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darksxder · 1 year

Text

the good plant pollen

pairing: fem! recom reader x na’vi miles quaritch

summary: getting hit by a sex pollen on your first mission as a recom was not exactly ideal, but thankfully your colonel helps you out

warnings: dubious consent (due to sex pollen), pwp, masturbation, sexual tension, p in v sex, public sex, voyeurism, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, na’vi heat cycle/sex pollen, power dynamics for sure (you’re his subordinate)

word count: 12.5k (HELLO???) not even sorry, my hands ache tho (from typing, not anything weird)

a.n: i requested something similar from @shadowshart but realized I wanted to play with this idea myself also lmao (read their story it slaps!)

GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH BACKSTORY I'M SORRY OKAY.

also thank u to my roomie for helping me with ideas, love u s.

dts: to the lovely @shadowshart herself (im ur biggest fan fr, sorry i flood your inbox) & @tarrynightss for beta reading, love you bae <3, @spiderlover03 for wanting this fic so bad and always, @belle82devart

*******

You wouldn't be in this situation if you paid attention.

You swear it.

You knew you should have been paying attention to Darcy as she pointed out things from the slideshow of venomous and otherwise deadly plants and wildlife on Pandora to avidly avoid, but you swore you knew it all already. Or at least you think you did from your other life.

You remember certain blurry flashes of colours and ramblings of a safety meeting, the dim room packed with row after row of benches full of whispers and muddled mumbles of ‘dangerous’, ‘claws’ ‘toxins’ ‘ leaching from skin’. Just a monotonous repeat of: ‘deadly’, ‘deadly’, ‘deadly.

All you could truly remember was watching Quaritch’s arms flex as he addressed you all, the way his face tensed as he spoke, just an octave under a yell, always. The strain in his neck. You were in the front row, leaning in, all for the guise of catching every word he spoke and you had at the time, but still, he was the major thing on your mind even then.

And now he was still a distraction, with his thick thigh pressed against yours, his heat leeching off of him and gripping at you, travelling up your side, up your neck, tingles spreading through your extremities. If you moved away an inch you would be on Lyle’s lap. That was not an option despite the constant light flirtatious jokes shared between you.

And no matter how sick it was, you enjoyed this stolen touch. It still felt forbidden. Probably because it still was.

He was still your colonel, you were still his subordinate.

How unlucky to be given the chance to live two separate lives where you were infatuated with him, and in both, you could not have him.

He didn't seem to mind this touch now so why would you? Honestly due to this you truly had no chance of paying attention to this safety presentation before the mission. It would have usually had your rapt attention, but something about this morning had you anxious and the touch of Quaritch had your stomach all fluttery and your mind wandering as the scientist spoke.

She was a mean woman, about your age, or at least the age you were as a human, your na’vi body was only 20. She had fierce red-brown hair that hung in long, frizzy waves. A headband pushed the bangs back from her face harshly as she rolled up her sleeves and continued talking. On her pale face, she wore teal eyeliner, and you suspected it was a strange way to place herself firmly in the recom team spirit, but what got you was her personality. She was fiery, she bit back at everyone, insults that went a toe too far, were her supposed comfort, terrorizing her fellow scientists through nitpicks and badgering in sickly sweet mocking tones in the morning and dragging them to the lab past reasonable hours.

Overall just metaphorically making them bend to kiss her feet.

Quaritch liked her. Not enough to like her as a person, but enough to appreciate the snark, the tone. Enough to ask general Admore to put her on their team for good the first week when she yelled at one of her many scientist underlings who got in Quaritch’s pathway.

Sometimes you wondered if he fucked her.

But when you did, you got sick at the thought and quickly extinguished it.

You focus back, feel the rumbling of the bench underneath you. Lyle was laughing beside you so loud it reverberated through the metal. Your eyes snapped up to see a deep red, long-leaved plant displayed on the screen and all of the recoms laughing. Darcy looked a bit too pleased with her ability to make Lyle wheeze.

“Overall it's not exactly supplying the good type of plant pollen if you know what I mean.” A wink. You did not indeed know what she meant and you heard Quaritch huff a laugh behind you.

“ Unless you like being on a rock for hours, I guess. There is a reason the na’vi call it the tsewtx toruk ”

Mansk spoke behind you. “The fuck does that mean?”

You laughed, which made Darcy glare at you. “It means dirty dragon. Its namesake is for its potency, strength and umm… tenacity or stamina it gives the user. As well as the physical symptoms of intense fever and hot flashes. But again like everything else, it is deadly. You would fuck till you drop essentially. Stay away.” A click and she was onto something new and you tuned her out again. Willing yourself to soon be able to make it out of the room, to be without her nasally voice if even for only an hour’s reprieve.

You were still focused on other things, panic flaring as you remembered you got up late this morning. Now mentally calculating how fast you would have to be after the meeting to make it back to your bunk and clean up your station before bed check later when you got back. But you focused pivoted again.

Not very far, just to your right.

Your colonel was so very close to your side. You were trying not to stare, truly, but you knew you weren't doing a good job. Your side eyes were never particularly subtle, Mansk and Lyle told you this for years and yet you continued. You couldn't control it. And it didn't help that you were much more noticeable in your na’vi body.

******

You were used to being firmly human and tiny for your age.

You were a stealth operative under Miles Quaritch for the RDA at twenty years old nearly 14 years ago. A lifetime ago. Able to even sneak past every na’vi and even Eywa herself they swore, but you never thought that was quite true. They nicknamed you Ghost anyways.

You pretended to hate it.

But when you had snuck into their village one day when they were gone to the river for a ceremony, taking pictures of the internal structures undetected, the team had celebrated you. Seriously celebrated, and even made a makeshift cupcake to commemorate the breakthrough. But it was not something done lightly and the cupcake was neither edible nor good, but you had eaten it. Had smiled, and allowed yourself to be jostled by firm slaps and pats on the back of Wainfleet and the rest as the guilt gnawed at you slowly.

But Quaritch noticed, he always did.

He found you out on the bridge that night, leaning against the rail as you gazed at the depths of emerald tones that made up the forest.

“You did well today. I know it’s difficult, soldier, but you did well.”

You looked up, startled to see him at your side. So much taller than you, even as a human. White hair cropped short and clothes pressed even at the late hour. Not a single wrinkle.

The deep scars on the side of his head caught in the blue-white light of Hell’s Gate’s fluorescents as he talked. They almost shined as if they were a platinum badge. His blue eyes lit up an icy hue. You felt your palms sweat as you readjusted your grip, feeling yourself shake just slightly. The once-chilled air of the brig was warm as you felt him step beside you.

Always on your right side, after having noticed you tense the first day, when he saddled up to your left. You had bad hearing on the left side and hated the anxiety of someone being on that side. He switched wordlessly when he saw you tense. His jaw set, eyes facing forward. He did it wordlessly and never left that right side view since then, even when agitated at you.

Especially then.

If he didn't like you, which you were sure he didn't, he at least respected you.

That was rare for him and it was enough.

It was enough.

But now as you try to shove images of burning forests and screaming na’vi from your mind you could barely see him. You were so tangled, knotted and sick at the way you would be and always were in a way a part of it. All of the atrocities, the death. Once you had been passive but now you had chosen to be firmly active.

He followed your gaze to your hands, you could feel it before you matched his stare to your white knuckle grip on the metal rail. You unclenched, shaking out your burning hands. A deep sigh rumbled from his chest, the sound seemingly following the curve of your spine as he leaned back. Dog tags clinked as he leaned farther forward over the rail to properly see you, to meet your eye. You indulged him only just to see his gaze be soft if only for a fleeting second as you gave in. You were always nervous about its absence, but it was always there. For you, at least.

You tried to smile, but it was barely a twitch of your lips, your knees aching as you tensed next to him. You had been standing here for hours after the so-called ‘party’ had died down.

Music booming in your ears, rattling your hunched frame in the corner as a small smile twitched at your lips to assuage that you were okay as the world fell apart around you. Breathing in the stale air of the gym in the brig, smelling dust, metal and sweat and of course the sweet vodka peach drink Zdinarsk spilled on your elbow as you moved past her. You took in everything as you sunk into the concrete behind you, revelling in the cold bite of the chilled material. Just watched as Zdog and Prager shouted lyrics to a Jay Z song, fingers pointing up to god knows what, rotating between gesturing the song out and rounding Lyle and Mank's shoulders as they laughed, half belligerent, drinks sloshing onto the concrete ground from battered red plastic cups. Since slipping out the back and avoiding the colonel's eyes hours later, you were just here.

Unmoving as the base winded down further and people prattled around its large expanse. All flitting about with briefcases and files as they rushed past you to their makeshift homes. Tired eyes focusing on the idea of their beds as the day was wasted and the next promised to start just as early. They filled the once cold lifeless gray space with life for a time until the night truly dwindled. The eclipse lit everything a bright purple. Awash in colours of magenta, and violet you just breathed, hands shaking as you inhaled. Your gaze never leaves the wonders beyond the glass surrounding you.

Now you were here and he had finally found you.

“You know why you're so good at your job, Ghost?”

A sigh slipped past your lips. Your shoulders caved in as your eyes slid shut once more at his deep raspy voice. At the use of your moniker, a remembrance of reality. He was your colonel. You were but a soldier. You were no hero, certainly not now.

No woman he had met by chance. Not a friend of his, of anyone, no longer a sister, no longer even your first name.

Just Ghost.

“No. Why, Colonel?”

And he hated how weak your voice was as he brushed calloused fingertips against your hands. So slight you were sure it was an accident. Your gaze shot to his, heart jumping painfully, back straightening as you stiffened. His eyes kept yours as he pried your hands from the rail none so gently, turning the right palm up and sliding something small and cool into your hand before closing your fingers around it, softer than the initial yank from the rail. But only by a fraction. All he could afford you.

Shivers raced up your spine, your chest aching at the touch, lurching with it.

“Wh-”

“It’s because you care. The animals out there don't notice you because they know you care. Like they know you wouldn't hurt them, even when vulnerable and squattin’ in the mud. You just have to remember to care for your kind more, alright?”

Your lip wobbled, voice much too weak to speak as you merely nodded, gaze trailing down again. Heart racing and fear clawing at you as you just stood there, weak and mortified, scared that he knew it all. Had the power to have you called a potential traitor for your empathy.

You wondered if when he said animals he meant the na’vi or the wildlife. You swallowed hard, eyes burning, squeezing shut as if you could wring the horrible thought from your mind, keep your heart from sinking to the depths alongside your stomach. You did not want to ask, for you knew already.

Your eyes tracked your beaten-up converse on your aching feet as you shuffled from your left to right leg, ignoring the prickles that raced up your shins. Caught on the only remnant of your sister left. She died in failed cryo on the way here. The heart drawn in sharpie on your left toe from your last day together. After, you both collapsed in exhaustion from packing your small joint carry-on bag the night before shipping off. It was glaringly bright in the white-tinted light illuminating the large hall now.

Still muted, smudged, and fading, but it made you smile anyways.

They were the first thing you put on each time you got back to base. The first step after a shower.

All of this, you realized you did for her. All of those like her, those left on earth. Trapped there, on a dying planet with no solution, no real plan or power to change it.

You finally braved a look at your palm, seeing a carved metal charm sitting there amongst callouses. It was crudely carved from the material but still startlingly smooth. It was a small ghost resting in your palm. No longer than your finger pad. A small hole was punched near the head with a link there to attach to your dog tags.

You let out a laugh at the sight and Quaritch was sure he had never heard anything so sweet, so close to shattering.

Your hand, gentle but rough like his, brushed against his knuckles. But this was no accident. It could never be construed as such and that was the true danger. You focused on feeling the strength there in those three seconds before your hand fell back against the now icy rail, missing the fleeting warmth he always seemed to radiate.

You just have to remember to love your kind more, alright?

“I do.”

A nod followed your soft words and he saw then just how young you were. With your two braids falling over your shoulders as you rocked back on your heels, forearms poised on the rail as you held the charm gently, close to your hoodie-clad chest, like it might break, like someone might take it from you. He focused on the light highlighting your features, and he felt his breath still for a mere moment. All at that moment it clicked in his head as if it was invisible until now, at this moment.

You were barely past being a teen, having signed on for a suicide mission with a sister who was long dead now, with few other choices six years ago. You were an excellent sniper and a keen strategist. A good follower, who took great orders. Loyal as shit. Throwing yourself in front of many projectiles from day one for strangers, colleagues and your team alike. Hell, you were probably a better soldier than all of them combined.

But you were too young. Painfully young.

Much too sweet to have calluses so deep and eyes so pained and a voice so hollow. Too young to have lost so much.

His gaze fell to your shoes, then back up as you looked back out to the horizon. He just wished you didn't wither away, yet. You were all so close to an answer. He knew it. A solution. Pandora was it. He knew you just needed a reminder and he would give you one, just this once.

You were just a kid.

Yelling never worked with you and he could never bring himself to do it anyways. You were a motivator for everyone, always picking them up with words or hands if they fell, but you were also easily motivated yourself. Easily swayed by a belief that what you were doing was good, or right. So he would give that to you. Because he needed you, he needed this whole team.

And that's all he thought when he had found that metal shard in the yard a month ago, in the vast grasses that tickled his hands as it sat in the very middle of it all. The whole operation and base. And he took it back to his room to carve. Immediately seeing the small timid ghost in the shape. It was barely the size of the pad of his thumb when he was done, whittling it to near nothing, slivers embedded in his palm, his skin. It only took him a night. He worked in between sets of weights and paperwork he barely dared to usually do, fingers always itching to pick up the tools again. Its creation in itself was motivating.

He tried not to think of why he was doing it. Pondered why he couldn't put it down when he started.

Why did he wait so long to give it to you? Why did he dread how you would react? Why was he so sure of how you would?

Just as you were now.

Soft, kind and something else he wished he didn't see. He refused to see as he too looked at the expanse of stars above your eyes, past your stare. He wished he saw what you did there, what you talked of seeing, of feeling. You talked of a vast expanse, a deeply instilled hope, a timid purpose, a reminder that although time was not infinite, life beyond them was, the cycle of everything and anything was so endless and it didn't scare you. It brought you peace as you gazed at the bright twinkling gems cast in the inky dark.

But instead of an expanse, he saw a dome. A prison. And that charm you cradled is just the same. It was just manipulation, a trap to get you to stay.

That’s all it was.

That is all it ever could be.

******

Now you sat there trying desperately to ignore the near euphoric scent of him beside you, and how your ears were twitching towards him whenever he made a slight noise, even if it was just a deeper breath than those previous. You noted all of them and swore you could feel them in your veins.

He smelled like a bonfire, a forest after a harsh rain, coffee, something like his old cologne with tangy twists to it along with gunpowder, metal. It was perhaps what his soul could be summed up as if he had one. But you were very much sure that he didn't.

But you still managed to focus upfront once more, on Darcy’s grand hand gestures with the clink of her bangles at her thin wrists as she pointed to the moving 3D images of frightening pandora fauna. Her green eyes were bright even in the dimmed light of the command room. The hologram was now focused on a palulukan.

A leathery wolf-like thing that caught your eye. Its teeth were so large and it was around ten feet long in size, taking up the whole room. You felt your tail thwap hard against the ground, curling around your left leg as you jiggled it harshly. Lip caught in between your teeth as you tensed, but no one paid you any mind. All you felt was your heart racing so fast you swore it might break your chest open, might splat on the ground still beating its erratic rhythm. Your fingers tighten on your empty holster as if to reach for a gun to protect yourself against the hologram threat.

“Y’know, they’re not all bad up close.” Quaritch laughed beside you, a low mocking thing that did horrible things to you.

That had your head snapping to his. Jesus, he was beautiful, that's all you could think, the anger giving way to awe as you watched his nose twitch, a look of confusion on his face, but it was gone as soon as you noticed. Like it was never there.

The stripes on his face matched his nature, sharp and melted into his bone structure. Highlighting the high cheekbones and strong jaw. His recom tags twinkled as they dangled with his strong lean forward, forearms resting on his knees. It gave you a horrible sense of deja vu you couldn't quite place. You always shoved memories of your past life away and you knew why you shoved that one out quickly. The tiny ghost charm still around your recovered dog tags felt like a collar then, even if it was tucked into your shirt, away from his view. You swore he knew. Knew he owned you.

“I’m not sure I believe you. I mean this is coming from the man who was once permanently scarred by one.” You said.

A huff.

“Plus I’m not concerned. Nothing on Pandora scares me like that.” You paused, frowning. “Not anymore.”

Not since dying. He knew what you meant.

His face was stern, but playful at the edges. It was evident in his eyes that he didn’t buy it. No muscle shifted in his face or his body, not a single hue of change seen, even of a minuscule sort, and yet you knew he was aware you were full of shit.

His eyes fell to your hands twisting in your t-shirt and you stilled them.

He laughed.

“That’s not what gave you away, Peach.”

And he leaned in, the smell of him was overwhelming, intoxicating, you felt like you were suffocating, fighting the urge to take a deep gasping breath in. He smelled so good, your ears perked up, flattening against your hair, then ruffling up again as his raspy voice whispered in your right ear as it twitched at his warm breath,

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

That only helped to increase its speed, you felt like you would faint, sure you would, but it was the least of your problems as you heard the recoms shuffle and make to move out. The dim lights now burning bright. All grabbing weapons off the table and suiting up. You hop up quickly, eager to get your hands on a gun, to then check and make sure that your bed was expertly made before inspection later, excited to get out and far away from Quaritch, from the itch he left under your skin. But the firm yank to your tank top collar had you gasping and collapsing back into his chest, your nose filled with his rich scent. You could feel his strong arms around you, one at his side, flush with your body, the other at the nape of your neck like you were a rogue kitten. You could feel his breath, your body moving, arching as his chest expanded with his inhales, could feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your tailbone, digging into the soft skin there deliciously. Heart still racing.

“Where you goin’ Rookie? Chopper’ is that way.” His eyes met yours over his shoulder, your breath stalling as you felt his eyes wander like a physical touch branding you, brushing against the hemline of your top, your heaving chest. He grunted, making an exaggerated gesture to the right side, in the direction of the hangar.

“Right, I- I just forgot something.”

He snorted. “Well tough, we gotta head out. ” And that was that.

You heard Lyle laughing at your expense, pointing at your flicking tail which you grabbed from behind you in fury at the blasted thing. It was giving away way too much to devious people around you.

The Colonel just charged ahead of you all, shoulders squared and ears flicking in irritation. He looked so mad and you had no idea why. Well, hopefully, he’ll let you off easy later at the sight of your messy sheets.

Hopefully, that scary palulukan bastard won't kill you… Hopefully, it will all go fine.

********

And it was all going fine until you spotted a viper wolf from the corner of your eye. You were a mile into the journey since drop off, muscles tight and burning from hacking at plants and hiding from leering beasts. The animals still attacked people they recognized as na’vi, just not as much as an avatar driver or god forbid, a human would. None of you were as accurately attuned to silent threats as the people of Pandora were. The recom bodies were new and native in theory to this planet, but you did not grow up as they did, hell you all grew up in a tank technically.

It had been stalking you all for a long time you gathered, it had to have been, what with the way it effectively cornered you as you all were nearing a ditch drop-off along with the certain confidence to the wind up of his body. So when it finally dashed with a horrible high-pitched laughing sound everyone turned to it, but it was already in the air.

Your hand grabbed your knife from your sheath with ease, throwing yourself in front of Quaritch and swinging your arm up with a cry. The thing launched itself with so much force that it bent nearly into a c shape as your hand slammed into its abdomen, sickly thin ribs curving over your hand, teeth snapping at your face as you swung it around, twisting the knife deep, teeth gritted in a yell, neck leaned back to avoid its teeth. Blood soaked your hands as jaws snapped at you, continuing their attempt at your face. You didn’t realize you were near the edge until it was too late. A strong kick of hind legs to your ribs shoved you off the grassy hill. Your grip slipped from the knife, and the creature it was buried inside as you went down screaming, tumbling down a rock covered slope. Wind and grass whipped past you, rocks crushing bone as you rolled, limbs flailing as you fell from various heights in between harsh slopes of land. Arms tucked around your head near the end. Muffled gasps and breaths wrenched from your lungs, various hard things crushed in your chest, and mud slid into your eye, leaving you with no sight on your left side, and with no air.

You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see.

All throughout you heard constant shouts of your name, “Ghost!” and whether it was a minute or truly an eon, you finally stopped moving, collapsing on your back, wedged under a sharp rock and something delightfully soft in contrast. Your head pounded like your heart was there.

The world was truly spinning, your stomach turning violently. The taste of metal and grass in your mouth. Splinters of sunlight fractured your vision as you pried your eyes open, looking up the long hill to the sea of blurred faces. With a groan you assessed the damage quickly, and stood shakily, trudging over with only a slight limp to the clearing next to you so they could see you were alright. But with blood running down your forehead, arms swinging around for purchase as your knees buckled, you can imagine it was not exactly affirming.

“I’m okay. Is the thing dead? Are you all alright?” You asked, voice shaky.

The clinks of rocks and mud had your heart jumping as you moved back, falling on your hands and knees, moving backwards like a crab then standing again when sense came back to you.

Someone, no idea who, was making their way down the hill, at the very loud and very kind protest of your teammates.

You found your voice as your head swam with worry, your vision still too blurry to make anyone out. You didn't want them to get hurt. “No, no it's okay. I'll find my way up. Is it dead?” You called, wondering if you had asked that already, but truly unable to remember.

Your head was severely pounding. And perhaps you were fine until a wave of dizziness blacked out your vision, and your legs gave out from underneath you. Pain ripped up your tailbone to every single cell of your spine. You felt like you might throw up as you yelped. But after wincing, and back bowing in, eyes squeezing firmly shut, your gaze met a lovely red flower beside you. With a deep blue and orange center. With oval-like petals the size of your actual face. It was ripped in half savagely and you felt the ground around you in a panic, calloused fingertips meeting soft petals wedged under your ass.

Oh no. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You whined.

A laugh. You had no idea where it came from. “What is she apologizing to? A plant?” You paid them no mind, tears welling in your eyes at your destruction of the life here. It felt like you were still the same. You huffed, gazing at the horrible tear in its side. It was nearly as tall as your waist and it looked heavy, naturally leaning against a mossy tree. A thick white substance was flowing from the flower's core. It was bleeding.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry.”

Combat training takes place before logic it seemed, as your shaking hands dipped into the flower, pressing against the center as if trying to stave it from bleeding out. But as you did so a burst of yellow dust slammed into your face. You choked, stupidly taking a deep breath in through your nose as you slid your mouth firmly shut, feeling a burn in your lungs, an itch in your nostrils. You sneezed, some of the powder falling out, dusting off of you. The flower’s essence was now burning on your hands and Darcy’s warnings kicked in much too late. You rubbed them against your rough pants, with the feverish feeling sinking in. They were no longer wet like though, almost like you had absorbed the thing.

Tingles raced up your arms as you winced, moving away quickly, truly just staggering around. Wiping your hands on the ground quickly again. But as soon as you stood on your feet your vision cleared, and everything became so much brighter.

Woah.

All of your pains faded away, almost healed. You felt great honestly. Nothing felt tilted or like a scene with a film filter on now. You felt alive, it was the only word for it. And so when Quaricth made it to the bottom finally, an almost scared expression on his face, eyebrows once furrowed in worry, scrunched in confusion. Lending to genuine shock as he watched the gash on your forehead heal itself, sealing with a pink glow, leaving your blue skin perfectly untouched.

His mouth went dry, gaze straying to the plant beside you. It looked quite familiar. Then back.

“You okay, Cupcake?” You throbbed at the nickname, deep in between your thighs, so sharp you almost fully folded over. What was that? You cleared your throat, feeling the tingles from your hands race up your windpipe as if you had just drank something fizzy, coaxing your words to slow, the octave going just slightly deeper. It didn't go away, the feeling flowing up your arms and wrapping around your waist like an embrace. Oh god. “Yeah, Let’s go.” He handed you your knife, neatly cleaned on his shirt and you stashed it back at the garter on your thigh with a wink.

He felt his steps still as you moved around him, grabbing at the rope Mansk threw down as you started to climb. You looked utterly fine, but he knew you weren't. It wasn't because he watched a gash heal itself on your skin, but instead for the fact that you had winked at him. You would never have dared.

His ears twitched, his tail flicking leaves harshly before he reined himself in again, determined to keep a firm eye on you.

*******

You knew something was wrong. Knew as soon as you touched that fucking plant. As soon as your vision cleared you knew what it was, what you had just properly and thoroughly infected yourself with. The so-called “dirty dragon”. You wish you had paid more attention, wished you didn't roll down a hill and hit your head making you delirious. Wished you were not stupid enough to try to save a goddamn plant as Lyle suspected. But here you were.

Maybe there was a cure.

Maybe you could make it back in time before it kicked in. You would never tell Darcy, she wouldn't help you anyway, but the chances of no one else noticing seemed slim. You stayed at the back of the pack, covering their backs as Quaritch led them once again. His search of the forest in front of him interspersed with glances over at you that you never failed to notice.

The recoms were just as distracting, but in an irritating way. You could smell all of them, all of their signature scents like they were pressed against you, nuzzling your face. It made your head hurt. You chose to focus on the best scent, his. It was intermingled with all of the other recoms, but it was the strongest, the best.

Your heart raced as you took deep breaths in, feeling the tingles spread from your lungs to your breasts with the action. Your gun kept slipping from your grip from sweat, it clung to your skin like a film, the relative cool of the morning in Pandora wrenched from you as heat wave after heat wave hit you. Sweat sliding down your forehead and teasing your parted lips. The rub of your thighs together as you moved in a low crouch was so intoxicating. A zing of electricity flowed up your body each time the seam of your camo pants met your center.

You were wet, so wet you could feel it. It felt like a period at first and you had panicked a little before realizing na’vi women did not get those, they reabsorbed the uterine lining as all animals should. It felt almost like a weight in between your thighs, as you noticed your arms shaking beside your head all whilst you kept the gun raised. On guard still even when you felt dizzy and faint. Hot and cold. Core aching desperately.

Quaritch raised a clenched fist and you all paused immediately as if in sync. His glance over a broad, muscled shoulder was quick, “Take the gear up three clicks and wait for Ghost and I there. Make camp.” Your core pulsed at his mere voice, an urge to be closer to him undeniable as you were still at the back of the group. Confusion marring their faces. He had an order against night ops, or at least he had as a human.

“What? Stay the night here? Are you crazy?”

It was Lopez, never shy to disagree with the Colonel's orders. But the look he gave him shut his mouth up real tight, sealing his attitude off.

“Nevermind. Let’s go. Move out.” Lopez grunted, picking up Colonel's dropped pack too before leaving. Struggling with the weight Quaritch didn't even bat an eye at.

Quaritch looked so good, hand loosely poised over his comm collar, the other resting on his cocked hip, braid swinging behind him with the motion. He looked delicious and you ached at the sight of him.

“General Ardmore, we're making camp. We’ll be back at 0600 sharp the next morning.” It was not a negotiation. You would have laughed at his gall, but it was no surprise to you and the snappy talk made you bite your lip, focusing on the deep timbre of his voice, basking in the sound.

You only snapped back to reality when you noticed the silence. Your group now a blurred mess in between faraway leaves, too far away, much farther than you remember them being. The colonel's words came back to you.

Take the gear, wait for me and Ghost there.

Leave us alone basically.

Oh god.

“Looks like you got yourself into some deep shit huh, Cupcake?” You sniffed, wiping at the sweat on your hairline frantically. “I don't know what you mean, sir. What did I do?” You squinted up at him, light spilling through long leaves to illuminate his figure, his eyes burning a bright gold in its rays.

You tasted your sweat as you took deep breaths, fists clenching as you felt your nipples rub against your bra with the move, thighs clenching slightly.

“I can hear your heartbeat, remember?”

Your face blanched, going still, eyes wide as he grabbed the strap of his vest, leaning into a hip, his lowered eyes travelling down your shaking figure.

“What plant did you fall into exactly?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He sounded smug. The bastard.

Shaking your head, you moved around him quickly, the movement matched the slight wind, bringing his scent over you in a rush. It was so sudden-so strong and good that you gasped loud and harsh. Your pupils were blown as they stared ahead at the foliage, praying something would come out of it and eat you. End your misery as you feel your cheeks burn. Jaw clenched.

You ignored every tingle and jolt as you trudged on, hearing him fall in step behind you.

“Ghost, just tell me what it is. One of the scientist freaks can help.” You scoffed, turning back sharply, almost colliding with his broad chest, your own heaving, each breath harder to grasp. You hated this, every single part of it. Hating how every part of you wanted to be plastered to him, wanted to feel all of him. How hard you had to fight it.

“No. They couldn’t. They wouldn't.” You cry, gaze, meeting the ground in shame.

“What do you mean? They have cures to nearly every poison on this dam’ planet by now.” He moved forward as he spoke, cautious like you were a wounded animal. You bit hard enough on your bottom lip to split it, tasting metal once again as you smoothed sweaty palms down your thighs, tensing as shivers racked your body with the action. He moved even closer and you backed up five quick steps, they could nearly be counted as hops, your eyes wide with alarm.

He did not understand the danger he was in. How badly you wanted him. What you would do to have him and if he kept trying to come into your space you were not entirely sure he wouldn't find out.

“It's not a poison, Quaritch.”

A breath of silence stretched between you, both of you instead focusing on the chirps and caws of Pandora wildlife around you. And that's when he noticed it. The shaking of your hands, your voice, the blown-out pupils eating away at the gold of your eyes. The sweat. The wink. It’s not poison. What else could it have been? A healing plant was unlikely to cause these side effects. What else did Darcy-

Oh.

“Take care of it.”

You scoff, cheeks burning, tail whipping behind you sharply.

“Excuse me?” It was shrill, the embarrassment rationing off your shy side to near nothing.

He gestured to the base of a large and thick tree trunk. Made a show of turning around, arms out wide, walking twenty paces out and stilling, gun at his side. Guarding you. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't. But the thought of actually doing it, sinking into the bark, tearing off your belt and slipping your hands under your pants, feeling along your cunt all whilst he listened, watched out for you? It was insane, and you refused to give in, but despite that thought your body moved for you. Your hands were moving and your knees locking before you fell to the grassy heap at the base of the tree.

******

Quaritch was sure he would pass out any minute now. He was tense, still, waiting, a part of him hoping you’d refuse, another knowing you would not be able to.

He could smell you for miles since the fall and the collision with that damn plant. He had been hard for hours, only taking point so no one else would see it. But you never noticed, you never did.

He wasn’t looking forward to the hell General Ardmore would put him through when he got back, but he knew you would not have made it back in time. He may have been distracted during the safety presentation by your scent, your warmth, and the touch of your soft thigh through his cargo pants but he paid attention, and it paid to do so. So he knew the shit you were in and it was deep. This was meant to be agony. He just knew- His ears swivel at the clink of your belt, followed by a rush of soft breaths.

Rustling has his tail twitching up, flicking side to side, nearly hitting his bent arm on the downswing. But it goes silent again and he can't help it. “You okay, Peach?”

Your moan is loud and he chokes, nearly falling over, fighting the urge to look, already perfectly picturing what he would find. He could hear you. How slick you were, he could smell it, his mouth watering, heat pooling in his stomach, fists clenching.

“God please keep doing that, Quaritch.” You gasped. His dick twitched. He stops, stomach flipping. “Doing what?” He drawled, bringing the last syllable on a walk, loving the squeak you made in its favour. His voice came out deeper, more rasped than he would have liked but he just swallowed, hard. Fighting to not look over, slightly failing and getting a sliver of blurred blue in his peripheral vision, a glance at scattered clothes nearest to him.

“Talking.”

God. Someone save him.

It was wrong, all so wrong and yet he would do whatever you wished at that moment. He would say anything you wanted.

“What do you want to hear?”

A slick sound and another gasp and he swore he cracked a tooth with how hard he clenched his jaw. “Anything. Just need your voice. I love your voice. Fuck!” And he groaned, ears twitching against his head, eyes squeezed shut as he fought the urge.

He wouldn't do this, he wouldn't. It wasn't right, but still, he talked.

“I can smell your cunt.”

A moan.

“I could smell it for fucking miles ever since you ran into that fuckin’ plant. Could smell you. Could hear your heartbeat…both of them.”

He couldn't breathe because every time he did, he smelt you, he breathed you in and he was one step closer to losing it. To breaking.

“Never wanted to fuck something so bad in my life. Wanted to pin you up against a tree, rip all the damn' clothes off of ya’ until you admitted what you need.” He could hear your heightened breaths. “Please, I'm so close.” But he stopped, shaking his head.

“What-why?” you called, voice vulnerable. It was a whine and he was delighted. This was power and he knew how to wield it. You always wasted yours.

You could have had him back there at the bottom of the hill if you asked, in front of his whole damn team if you wished. Hell if you jumped him he would have gone for it, no questions asked. You could have had him at fifty one when you wanted him. He would’ve fucking taken you. It would have been wrong, but he would not have cared. But you never did try, never even got close when you could have. You never did the wrong thing, the thing you wanted. Needed.

But he was not you.

“I'll keep talkin’ till you cum all over those pretty fingers enough to be cured Cupcake, even if it takes till fuckin’ sunrise. But only if you let me watch.” His voice came out as a drawl, southern accent sticking to every syllable. His ears twitch to better hear you reply. It was immediate.

“Turn around.”

And he does, slow and sure like. It takes everything in him to do it that way. To not seem too eager, like he hadn't been thirsting for your pussy since you were first placed on his team, when you were barely more than a teen. You were barely twenty and he was starting fifty, and yet he had wanted you. Human or not, Miles Quaritch wanted to fuck you and he was convinced that would never go away. You were not simply something he could get out of his system, but he would try.

Good God.

His heart stopped as his gaze met yours. Your eyes half-lidded, wobbly knees pulled apart, showcasing your drenched fucking cunt. You were wearing nothing but your dog tags. He found himself walking towards you, focused on the many strands of hair that fell from your braid, plastering themselves to your body, your neck, and your arms. Your face lovely and flushed, lips parted and swollen, but not as much as they ought to be. He drops to his knees in front of you, uncaring for the gun he throws in the grass somewhere around behind him, gaze never leaving you. Your heaving chest, your heavy breasts, your full blue curves in the sunlight.

“Talk.”

It was a demand and he could meet it.

“Yeah, whatever you want, baby. I’ll do anything you want.” He was stomach to the ground, palms gripping at the earth beside him as if for solace as he took a deep breath in and held it. His eyes flashed open as he watched your small lean fingers messily draw circles on your clit, hips jerking up, chest heaving. It wasn’t enough and the scrunch between your brows was from pain, not pleasure. He was breaking as your eyes met his. It was not the first time you looked at him like that, with enough lust to make his stomach flip, but it was certainly the first time he had ever been able to do something about it.

Jesus, he needed you.

“Use me, baby, please. I can give you what you need, y’know I can. I’ll fill you up, fuck that pollen right out of you if you want me.” A shocked sound came from you as if personally offended, hands falling off your body. You stood on wobbly knees and he joined you, cock aching as he stared down at your small flushed frame. You were beautiful like this. Perfect.

He was giving the power to you. Addressing the imbalance. You could refuse him, you could shove him away and he would willingly go, but he knew you wouldn't.

“ I want you. I a- I want you. Please.” It was a rasp, your voice near gone, throat parched. And your hands, hot as the sun gripped his tank top in fistfuls under his vest. He could feel your touch even above the cloth. At first he thought you were pulling him in until you whined when he tried to close the space. Hand smoothing up his shoulders. “Want this off?” He asked, hands on his vest. You only nodded and he unclipped it, not needing to be told twice, dropping it slowly to the tree beside him, your hand now laid on his bare shoulder.

“More.” Another demand.

He barely refrained from ripping the thing off. Settling for grabbing fistfuls on the back of his shoulders and pulling it up and over his head. Before he even tossed the shirt to the ground you were kneeling, thumbs dipping to rest on his hip bones. Your nose sliding up the line of his abs, inhaling deeply. He gasped, hand finding your hair, feeling the sweat there as you licked and kissed up his stomach.

One of his hands falling to the tree to keep his knees from fuckin’ giving out. You devour every inch of skin he showed. It was perhaps the first time he ever felt worshipped, with hands the heat of the sun gripping at his lithe waist, pulling and tugging him how you wanted, as you kissed, licked and bit at him, taking your pleasure with his. Your face rubbed along his hard-on through his pants nearly every third time you kissed his abdomen or sucked on a spot of his waist.

Butterflies. He got fucking butterflies like a teenage girl when you met his eyes, smiling before pressing the softest touch he had ever experienced in both lives, above his belly button.

That was it. “Oh, fuck it.” He rasped, pulling you up by the hands still on his waist, smoothing them up to rest around his neck, soothing your confusion with shushes as his hands tucked under your thighs, yanking you up as you yelped, a giggle falling from your lips. But you were not deterred, lips attacking his neck on the left side, under his jaw right by his chin and ear, and he nearly collapsed at the feeling, the pleasure that shot deep through his veins. With a deep breath his forehead met the tree. Fucking damn it, you would be the death of him. He overestimated how much strength he needed to carry you, to fuck you standing and you landed on his big blue chest, center landing on his sternum as gravity slowly pulled you down, the ridges of his abs rubbing into your puffy clit.

*******

You threw your head back at the feeling. Your thighs squeezed his sides as you slid down to rest on his hips. His head tilted back too then, a small huff leaving his nose as he went to gaze at the sky, as if to ask for mercy. You licked a hot line up his throat, sucking hard and he moaned, vision breaking to land back on you. Furious, he looked furious and it made another honest to god giggle leave your lips. The sound made your stomach flip, your core aching as you ground your hips into him hard. But with your look at the blue sky next when he dove to kiss your neck, reality cut through the pollen-induced haze.

You were taking advantage of the situation. He was only doing this to help you, a member of his team, that was all.

“Wait, wait,” you called, breathless and panting and he did, pulling back immediately, alarm on his face. A question in his lust-blown eyes, the golden green hue nearly swallowed by the dark pupil.

“You don’t have to do this. I don’t want to infect you” You said, tears in your voice. He tensed, hands readjusting you as he aimed to meet your eyes. He hadn’t even considered you infecting him, he knew you couldn’t. But you looked so sad. Then he got it. You had to be kidding. You thought-. Fingers firm but gentle on your chin made your gaze match his. He looked down, heart nearly stopping as he saw the ghost charm glint in the sun, newly attached to your dog tags.

A gasp left him. His gaze matching yours, now electric. He would devour you. “I’d fuck you whether or not I’m high on some plant, Peach. I’ve wanted to fuck you for ages.” It came out as a purr against your cheek as he leaned in, finally admitting it.

And you know he means it. You see it in his eyes, and you swear it’s enough to do you in.

You laugh, a truly mean-sounding thing. A smirk slides onto your face. His face tucked into your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you whined, hips jerking. He could feel your wetness on his fingers, sliding down your thighs, the hard pebbles of your nipples and your heartbeat roaring against his chest in tandem. Your short breaths caught against his ear as he ground into you. You sounded nothing short of heavenly, heat curling in his abdomen, an ache forming in his chest and navel, electricity smoothing up his arms at your feverish touch.

But he felt you pulling away. He took a long time to pull away from you, even longer to open his eyes. “What, what’s wrong?” His voice was nearly gone, cracking at the seams, it was all pure ecstasy.

Another laugh met his ears as your shaky legs met the ground. You turned so your back was to him. A flush of heat slammed into him as he took the view in. He marvelled at the slope of your spine, the dips at your blue hips, the stripes on your skin, the glowing dots across your shoulder blades. You place your palms on the tree, feet spread just slightly apart and then you lean back, putting just about everything on display.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want you to fuck me from behind.”

And his hands are on your hips before you even truly finish your sentence. You hear the clink of his belt, hear it slide out of the loops, falling to the grass carelessly behind you.

“Can you do that?” You ask, hips swerving. It was a taunt. He wanted you, he could come get you.

Your back arched, pussy aching, truly dripping, heat plastered to your sweaty skin. You were fearless then, for the first time in your life. It came from being truly wanted, even if for a brief moment. A brief dalliance would be all this ever was anyways.

A quick yank to your braid as he wrapped it around his fist had you gasping, pleasurable pain ricocheting up your spine, your ass rubbing against his crotch as he pressed into you, the tree bark just barely brushing your nipples and you nearly screamed. It was too much.

“I can and will fuck you anyway you want. I’d fuck you standing.” He nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his tongue sliding along your tendon, the cool wind latching onto the saliva and making you shiver so hard you squeezed your eyes shut, knees locking, bark digging into your skin. He chuckled, “I’m gonna be buried so deep inside this cunt you'll never be able to forget it.” His filthy words were accompanied by one strong palm smoothing over your left hip, pressing against your abdomen, ghosting your navel. “You’re gonna feel me here.” You whined. Clenching around nothing.

It was painful. The plant coming in full force, demanding to be bred and fucked. Waves of pain spread the feeling of knives along your skin and he seemed to notice the switch from pleasure to pain again. His mask dropped. He didn’t ask what you needed, he already knew. Fingers slipped down to your cunt, and he swore, his hand slipping almost past it with how slick you were as if moving through water.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” One hand gripped at your breast, acting as an anchor to his chest, to ensure you stayed steady, ready for him as he thrust three fingers inside you. He swore as he felt your tight, slick heat.

A gasp and a moan met his ears as your back arched, ass pressing into him, one hand gripped at his wrist, begging for what you were not sure about- but he did. His fingers were so thick, so good and you couldn't even think as he pressed three inside you all at once with a deep groan, slowly pumping them in and out, the sound of it almost comically loud as he focused on pressing up at just the right angle and depth to have you screaming, clenching around him so perfectly.

Fuck, you were going to absolutely milk his cock.

You fell forward, pleasure rushing over you like waves. You grasped at the tree desperately, knees going weak. “Please,” you moaned as his thumb slipped over to rub small tight circles around your clit. You went higher and higher, breaths lasting mere seconds as you gasped, voice high as you moaned. It was so fucking good, your tip toes pressing into the ground as you leaned up into his touch, hips grinding on his huge fucking hand. His thrusts turned faster, harder, hitting the perfect spot. A sharp press of his fangs to the back of your neck, the broad base of his chest against you, pressing your nipples just slightly against the rough bark and you shattered.

He had to hold you up as he kept pumping his fingers, barely able to move them as your orgasm took over, clenching around him in waves as he continued to fuck you. It was a momentary reprieve. He could tell that was not enough because your breaths just picked up speed again and you arched your back further. “Inside, please. I just need you. I’m ready.” He wasn't sure if that was true, but he also couldn't imagine you could be more prepared. He pulled his fingers out of you, watching your essence fall to the forest ground.

He gripped your jaw, pressing you hard against the tree, your wide eyes meeting his, cheeks flushed purple, drool spilling from your lips. He nearly came at the sight. Quaritch pulled you back against him hard and you gasped, limp in his arms. Brought his arms in front of you, his right hand covered in your slick, his pointer finger trailing your lower lip and your tongue snuck out to taste. But his hand was gone, pulled away with a click of his tongue, head shaking down at you. “You’re so messy. Look at you, such a slut.” He spat the words out and you ached. He heard your heart beat jump and he laughed, bringing his hand to his mouth instead, tongue swirling around his fingers.

Eyes closed, he moaned at the taste. He was starving for it. You tasted so sweet. Truly like a peach. He licked every bit of it off of him as you whimpered at the sight. You tasted like heaven. He needed more, but he knew that wouldn't satisfy what the pollen induced lust was craving, so he shoved you forward again, your shoulder meeting the tree with a wince, pleasure shooting down to your cunt at the roughness.

“Finally fuck me.” You pleaded, ass wiggling back, voice edged in anger, frustration. And he broke. He yanked the rest of his clothes off faster than what should have been possible, bare feet bracing inside of yours as he rubbed himself along your pussy. You were plenty wet and smiled at the feeling. He had been fully hard since he turned around and saw you, since then just pulsing, feeling as his pants tried to stretch to accommodate him.

It was a mild relief. He could give you more of it.

He tapped his head against your clit just to hear you hiss, see hints of your fangs. Moving down he lead himself to your cunt. The slide inside you was immediate, and he swore, tensing every muscle in his body in an effort not to cum immediately. “Oh fuck, Peach.” He tried to think of something else, something other than your perfect fucking pussy clenching around him, tugging him in further like he was meant to fit there inside you near to the hilt forever. You felt like warm silk and he could feel himself get close, all as your hips moved back and forth, still struggling to take him all in. “Don’t.” he rasped.

You stilled, smile falling as you peered back at him, worried he changed his mind, worried you would never get the release you needed for the pollen to leave you.

“If you move, I'll cum.”

But that did not deter you. Actually, it seemed to make you move faster. You pulled off him, nearly hugging the tree until just the sensitive tip of his cock was inside you before sliding all the way back with a roll of your hips that had his hands seizing, his abdomen lurching in pure pleasure. “Fuck sake, stay still, girl.” You clenched around him at the nickname and he chuckled. He saw how it was. Two could play this game. If he would come quick, he would make sure you did it first, as many times as he could wrench from you. And his words always seemed to do the trick.

“Should have known you were a fuckin’ freak. The way you looked at me back then was absolutely filthy, baby. You wanted me even when I was fifty, isn't that right?” The southern drawl sounded so mocking as he thrust into you. It wasn't really a question, but he stilled, waiting for your answer.

“Yes!” You yelled, shame burned your cheeks as he slid his own against yours, leaning forward over you making you moan. He was so nice and deep. You could feel his smirk. But you were rewarded for honesty.

He thrust into you so hard you saw stars before falling into a nice rhythm. Staying slow and hard with his thrusts as he spoke, his sweaty chest plastered to your back as his balls slapped against your clit. In between grunts and gasps, he spoke near your ear, but it was nowhere near a whisper. There was a bigger thrill because he was so loud. Anyone could hear, anyone could see. “Y’would’ve let me use that perfect young cunt any time I wanted, huh? Let me bend you over my desk right before a meeting, fuck you full. Have you leave with my cum’ still drippin’ down all over your pretty legs.” His words and a fast circle to your clit have you cumming again, this time around his cock.

He swore, veins in his neck popping as you bared down on him, squeezing him for all he was worth. His own high closing in as he thrusted harder, slamming deep inside you, brushing something you didn’t even know existed. A gasp falling from your lips, eyes rolling back. He pushed a large hand into the divot of your back to force a deeper arch, your head falling forward as you braced for him. And he fucked into you hard and fast through your orgasm and past that, when you were so sensitive you barely realized that the heat was almost gone, the excess of sweat slowed to nearly nothing but from the exertion Quaritch was putting you through.

“Where do you- damn, “ a huff against your back, “I’m gonna cum, fuck-, where do you want me?” His hips moved as if to pull out of you as he asked, but you let go of the tree with one hand, grabbing the back of his thick thigh, getting half a handful of his ass, pushing him closer to you as you rock back on his cock, rolling your hips, making an effort to grind against his pelvis with fervor.

Head tilted up, fucking begging internally for him to grab your throat, to lean down and kiss you, but you knew he wouldn’t.

Not on the lips. He would never.

“Inside Miles, cum inside me.” And it was you saying those words, your sweet voice breathy and the feel of you around him that did him in. Warmth flooded your core as he fucked up into you, in three hard slow thrusts, the sofest sounds you have ever heard from him escaping his lips as his head fell against your shoulder, shaking against your back, his ragged breaths making your hair stand up as you shivered, grinding back into him in slow circles. And he winced, making a noise that could almost be construed as whining if you were listening.

He was all over you, his scent flooding you, his seed inside you, spilling around his cock and down your legs. His sounds were so sensually sweet and it made your heart ache. He was yours. You would make sure of it. And you felt the heat rise in your body again, undeniable and painful.

When he pulled out, you turned, and in the last burst of a pollen-induced haze you grabbed the back of his neck, bringing his neck to your mouth, your fangs immediately piercing into his skin, tasting blood, marking him. He grunted in surprise, wincing as his arms grabbed your elbows, not pulling you away but holding you all the same. It was a primal thing, an urge you weren't even sure you could have, until you fulfilled it. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, lapping at the blood, delighting in the absolute pained sign-turned-moan that left his open mouth as you sucked at his blood, tearing slightly into his skin to affirm your mark.

A sudden shot of cum shot out across your abdomen as he wrapped your legs around him, his arms firmly around your back. Promptly falling on his ass with the force of his orgasm, moaning as his hips bucked into the air, chasing something that already passed.

You had done that.

The feeling of your fangs piercing his neck, marking him as yours had brought another orgasm right beside his last. Not even a minute later. That would not have been possible for any being other than a na’vi, and at this moment you were grateful for it. His strong arms held you tightly against him, your rapid deep breaths matching his, your ear plastered to his slick chest, the uneven rush of his heartbeat having your lips curl up. You looked up to see his eyes closed, squeezed shut as if in pain, rough hands slowly rubbing circles into your back, tracing the points of bioluminescence there, dewy grass tickling your knees on either side of his hips.

You felt the ache from the rough sex before the soreness in your muscles came over you. A side effect of the way he manhandled you or from the pollen you were not sure. You can't believe you just did that. You were in such shit. But it was not over yet. Both of you refuse to get up, to leave this haven and return to the realm where this is forbidden.

Your palm smoothed up his pec and farther to his neck, landing on the fresh blood there. You looked up, moving slightly off him, taking his jaw gently in your hands. His eyes looked calmer now, but his pupils were still very large as he watched you, breathing hard through his open mouth. You felt his breaths under your left hand on his chest, rising up and down with its force, gazing at his muscled figure, taking in every inch shamelessly. And he looked back at you tentatively, but not guarded.

Trusting.

Your other hand tilted his jaw to one side as you leaned against him, sweaty chests meeting as you felt his breath hitching. You placed a kiss on the bite mark and he flinched.

“I’m so sorry.” You said, voice tired but sincere. He just squeezed your hip, unable to talk. Not now, not like this. He was too vulnerable.

Your pointer finger found the spot you were looking for. The small freckle on his neck to the left side, on the edge of his adam’s apple. Dipping further down, strands of your hair tickling his chest you ever so softly kissed his beauty mark. A whisper of a touch. A loving touch.

Quaritch breathed sharply through his clenched teeth, like he was in pain and your eyes watered.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away, hands sliding down his chest to his abdomen where your hips sat. It was such a soft gesture, your lashes fluttering as you met his eyes once more.

It was too much.

“No problem, Ghost.”

You tensed above him, but forced yourself to relax again. Your throat burned with the tears as you pushed up off of him. Still slow and cautious. You didn't want to give too much away. Not anymore.

That use of your alias was deliberate. It was a placement of the iron wall between you once more and although you knew it was coming, expected it even, it still felt like your heart was collapsing, wildly jumping all around your body as pain laced through your every shaky breath. Your jaw clenched tight, leaving him in a pile on the grass. It was hard to angrily walk away after taking a pounding like that, if anything you angrily wobbled away, but still, it was done. You wiped the cum off your body with leaves, and roughly stepped into your clothes. Your braid was undone, brushed with your fingers and redone. No need to keep it down.

You were sure he didn't leave any marks on you anyway. Harshly, you looked back, stopping mid-tie of your combat boot to see him. He was refastening his belt silently, nearly a half yard away and you just stared at his chest, his arms, catching on his tattoo on the left bicep. You never got to kiss it, and that thought nearly killed you. The yearning was a stabbing pain in your chest. It felt like being torn apart.

You noticed the marks, he had plenty to pass him by and you felt almost guilty, at least a little.

How would he explain it all?

But another part of you, the part of you that felt compelled to bite him in the first place grinned, smirking like a Cheshire cat with all the milk in the world at her disposal. It was like you had written ‘mine, mine, mine,’ all over him in the red and blue-black bruises scattered along his abdomen, along his v line dipping into his pants. The scratches on his left thigh, and of course the fucking bite mark on his neck, carved into the perfect blue canvas there from your fangs.

But if he minded it, he didn’t say a thing.

He could heal it at base camp easily with a nice blue gel, with no scars involved. You knew he would, but wished he wouldn't.

He didn't even acknowledge it as he walked into the set-up camp an hour later with you in tow. Did not even make to explain both of your absences. He wouldn’t. He didn’t need to. They knew.

You looked more put together than the Colonel, and that was the most obvious tell of what had happened. No one was more put together than him. It was like the man was born a military man, created from strict order and perfection.

Besides that there was the fact that you reeked of each other. No one could tell which scent was who’s, or even tell who you were by scent alone anymore. Then if they somehow missed that, the ripped shirt sleeve on your left side and the missed belt loop on Quaritch’s right hip was a good clue. Along with the uneven gait from you as you walked up the hill beside him to meet them, gun slung over your shoulder.

But the best clue- the one that did them all in, it had to be the fucking bite mark.

No, the declaration of property,

plastered on the left side of their colonel’s neck.

******

bonus:

It was five hours since they landed back at base and all the recoms were playing cards in the deserted cafeteria, all eerily silent.

Lyle could feel the tension in the air ever since you and Quaritch separated like the sea when Bridgehead came into view. You go to the showers probably and Quaritch heads off to explain himself to general Ardmore, looking only slightly more presentable than yesterday.

They all wordlessly looked at each other before Lopez spoke up, the sound of the helicopter still ringing in their sensitive ears.

“So… cards, anyone?” Lopez asked. Everyone immediately agreed, a series of frantic nods and a chorus of affirmation as they all moved to the cafeteria.

They didn’t even bother changing, showering, eating, just walked to the cafeteria jostling each other, sharing tidbits from the mission in small laughs, but they never dared to speak about you. Or at least not what they were all actually thinking about in terms of you.

“Did you see the way she jumped in front of Quaritch with the-“

“-yeah. Just like old times. Stepping in front of shit, for that old goat.” Prager laughed, shaking his head roughly, disbelieving. He never understood that. He never would.

“The way the fucking thing kicked her off a cliff and she like got up, like she was fine??” Lyle exclaimed with a scoff, hands motioning in front of him wildly.

“Yeah that’s Ghost, alright.” She huffed a small laugh. “Y’know, i’ve never seen the Colonel throw himself in danger for anyone. But he cleared that fucking hill immediately after she fell.” Z-dog sounded almost awed as she finished speaking, still chewing her gum that had long since gone flavourless.

They all nodded, silence falling again. Mansk pulled a very serious face as if he was thinking hard enough to hurt before he spoke. “It’s because he never has.”

They all turned to look at him, stilling as memories washed over them. It was always Colonel and Ghost. Always. The clatter of the dining hall got so loud as they were awash in melancholy. He was right.

They took off their gear and rounded the benches, the cards came out and it was dead quiet once again, but the tension was thick. Hard to breathe. The only sound was cards shuffling, the rhythmic pop of Z-dogs gum, and Prager’s huffs whenever he lost (which was always). It was enough for Lyle to finally break after two rounds. “So we all agreed they fucked each other, right?” His voice not even close to a whisper.

“YES!” The group yelled, in unison again.

Relief went through them so fast, like a huge wave that crashed over and through them, their tired shoulders hunching forward like a weight fell off of them. And excitement rushed in to take the tension’s place.

“I knew it!-”

“I called it!” Z dog laughed, “Pay up you leeches!” Her hands spread out, cards falling to the metal table as she made a mock grab for Prager’s pockets. He only snorted, batting her away with a soft ‘fuck off, z-dog.’

They all laughed, feeling the buzz return to them, the camaraderie. “I just can’t believe it. I thought she’d never do it.” Lyle laughed, almost a sense of pride in his tone.

Lopez snorted. “Why not? He's always wanted her.” Nods all around the table.

“Yeah, they just both would never admit it.” A chorus of agreement once again, but the silence dipped into their group again. An unspoken thing still hanging over them.

“So… what changed?”

No one had an answer. They were shocked seeing you guys trudge back up that hill an hour after Quaritch told them to set up camp. After they realized you had fucked the hell out of each other. But for some reason it seemed so normal. Natural. The tension had to break at some point. Everything gives in eventually. And they had been waiting for you two to break for years. It took two lifetimes.

They didn’t want an answer. Not really. None of them would ever talk of it outside the group. They were not snitches and they cared for both of you far too much to even think of it anyways.

They just hoped you two fucking didn't make your relationship worse, or even more complicated than it was naturally.

But perhaps it already had…

*******

a.n: if you made it this far: I am impressed! I have had this idea since the first week of January and finally getting it out was great! I read it too much to like it, or tell if it’s even good lol. But lmk what you think, or if you want a pt.2 👀 cause I’m thinking about it tbhhhh

#quaritch fanfic #miles quaritch #miles x reader #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #recom quaritch fic #avatar fic #avatar x reader fic #avatar James cameron #quaritch x reader smut #avatar smut #filthy #nasty #fr

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onboardsorasora · 19 days

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ahh i love your deaged daniel series!

do max and daniel ever have a get together or play date with sebastian and/or jenson's families? just to give daniel a chance to play with kids his own age and get some energy out

but maybe he's also shy at first and scared to talk to all the new people!

been kinda offline all day, but i had this in the drafts

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Part 11

Max didn’t realize how many drivers had kids. It wasn’t something he went around asking honestly and it also wasn’t any of his business. But after the twitch fiasco, he’d been added to no less than three driver dad group chats.

He’d tried to explain in each one that he wasn’t a father, but Daniel had exchanged bodies. And that, itself caused a whole different level of chaos.

This is how he found himself and Little Daniel walking into a park looking dubiously at the group of men chatting in a circle while their children ran around them.

“Max! You made it!” Seb’s grin was wide as Max settled near to them.

“Well, it's within walking distance of my flat so…” Max shrugged. Little Daniel looked at everyone with wide eyes before shyly tucking his face into Max’s neck.

“Daniel, these are some friends of ours. Do you want to say hi?” Max asked softly.

“Hi…” Daniel whispered into Max’s neck, clutching at his tshirt strongly so Max didn’t get the idea to put him down. He hadn’t been allowed to carry the Max pillow and Daniel had made his objections known with big, watery honey eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Max had bargained that he could wear his race suit instead and that had soothed the savage badger.

“I forgot how shy he used to be. You’d never know now.” Seb mused, Jenson nodded along, clearly remembering how awkward the knobby kneed young Aussie used to be in the paddock.

“Kid was fast though.” Nico pointed out which caused the older drivers to nod again, clearly remembering.

“You hear that Daniel, you were the fastest.” Max said, gaining Little Daniel’s attention. The boy looked at him curiously, tilting his head when Max nodded to the men. “This is Seb, Nico and Jenson. You raced against them and won.”

“Yenshen.” Daniel repeated, looking curiously at the men and biting his fingers. His mouth dropped open when he looked at Seb, as if in recognition.

“Hello old friend. Remember how we stopped biting our fingers?” Seb said softly, reaching to pluck Little Daniel’s fingers from his mouth. Daniel let him, staring into Seb’s bright blue eyes in wonder.

“Do we think he’ll spring back up to normal or will it be another exchange?” Nico asked while Seb kept Little Daniel busy.

“I’m not sure. Grace thinks he’ll exchange his way up.” Max offered with a slight shrug, being careful not to jostle.

“She must remember then.” Seb murmured, fluffing Little Daniel’s hair.

“Seb!” Little Daniel cried out, grabbing at the older man’s palm to keep it from his hair.

“You said he did this before, right?” Jenson asked, grabbing his own son and swinging him on his hip. Little Daniel’s attention latched onto the other boy.

“Yeah, he got overwhelmed after Canada in ‘14. It never lasted this long though.”

Jenson put his son down after his wiggling got too wild and Little Daniel started tapping Max’s shoulder with his ring finger until the older man got the hint. The three drivers watched as Little Daniel clutched at Max’s shirt hem for a second before walking off to the playground with the other kids.

Later that afternoon, it took all of their efforts to corral all the children who had started a game of tag just as the decision to go home had been made. Little Daniel kept running towards Max then away when Max reached down to grab him, laughing his honking giggle and screaming that he was faster. Jenson was able to distract him enough for Max to scoop him up, tickling his belly. They laughed as he squirmed breathlessly.

Little Daniel kept up a running commentary on the walk home, chattering away and telling Max about what he did and how much fun he had. He started flagging once they got to their building and Max was barely able to get him showered, and fed before he was snoozing on the couch. Max smiled at his soft face, slack in sleep. He laid on his stomach, clutching his Max pillow in one hand and hanging the other off the side of the comfortable cushion.

#maxiel #max/daniel #de aged daniel

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dawndelion-winery · 2 years

Text

Lorem Ipsum

Highschool au Ft. Arlecchino, Pantalone, Dottore

Arlecchino:

Has probably threatened everyone in class at least once, the teachers included

As you can probably guess, she doesn't have a lot of friends

But you sit next to her, so you figured you might as well try to get along with her

But then it seemed she misunderstood and assumed you were flirting with her

She starts treating you to lunch after that, to the point you're always seated with her throughout the school day

Now apart from death glaring anyone who irks her, she does the same to anyone who seems to bother you

She doesn't talk much to you, but she did tell you to blabber on if it made you happy

You figured it'd be alright to keep talking until she tells you to shut up because she wasn't the type to tolerate things she didn't like

The again you never thought she actually listened since she always looked so listless

Yet whenever you offhandedly mention someone giving you a hard time, you find them surprisingly cooperative the next time you discuss things with them

She always did seem a little happier when you told her the issue has been resolved

"Didn't I tell you? The situation will resolve itself once you distance yourself from these problems, just stick with me instead."

Pantalone:

Class treasurer, somewhat of a prick

But he does his job flawlessly, so no one can really complain

Except when he rejects their proposals for whatever class ventures they have in mind for "being too wasteful"

With that in mind, he's never gotten anything short of a perfect score for maths, ever precise in his calculations and analysis

He's the type of asshole to breeze through calculus and scoff at those who can't

He makes an amazing tutor though

With calculation embedded in his nature, he knows when to praise and criticise you, pulling at your strings to keep you motivated - even if your motivation is just to be praised by him

"Yes, good work, look at how much faster you got this one, you'll keep up the effort, yes?"

And you can't really say no to him when he faces you with that close-eyed smile and pats your head

It doesn't matter if you haven't gotten past the first part of the question for the past five minutes, you badgered him to tutor you first and he will get it through your head whether you like it or not

"You're not giving up already, are you? ...to think I had such high hopes for you..."

He says it like he's truly disappointed and sighs, resting his chin in one hand as his fingers tap his cheek like he's deep in thought

And of course, you being a simp caved hard and fast, hastily agreeing to give it another shot

"That's my diligent student," he says as he pats your head again, and you should be more concerned about how quickly his tune changed but frankly, he doesn't give you much time to ponder as he shoos you back to work

Dottore:

Terrible classmate, amazing seatmate

Pretty much an asshole to the class, but as his seatmate you're practically guaranteed to ace any science subjects you have

Taking notes too slowly and can't keep up with class?

"Write faster, fool," he says as he effortlessly scribbles down all the key concepts, seemingly irritated by the fact that you can't keep up.

Big mistake because now you're even more distracted by the way his long, slender fingers move so deftly with his pen

If he noticed you staring he didn't say anything, but you swore you saw the corner of his lips tug upwards in a smirk

You know you're in trouble when the bell rings and you realised you've missed nearly everything

Yet, for some unknown reason, it would seemed he felt a shred of kindness towards you, sliding the notes he so boredly scrawled over to you before packing up his things and leaving for the next class

His notes are like a cheat sheet to your entire syllabus

Which leads to you often praising how smart he is, to which he scoffs and tells you flattery won't convince him to keep helping you keep up with class

That's a lie, it does

It also convinces him to tutor you

Not the best idea when you're more likely to study him than you're work, though he usually remedies that by grabbing your jaw to turn your attention back to your papers

His face comes dangerously close to yours when he explains things to you as you write, normally with him standing behind you and hunching over you with his face next to yours

His furrowed brows and keen eyes scanning your work to criticise your mistakes were quite the sight to behold - his side profile is vv pretty

And rest assured, you will understand whatever he teaches you, however much it takes

If he has to repeat and paraphrase himself, so be it, as long as your attention was on him and you kept looking at him like he was a godsend

Honestly, he just enjoys the attention and fawning, it feeds his ego sm

"I suppose I can't expect you to understand things as quickly as I do. Ah well, no matter, consider yourself fortunate you have someone as brilliant as I to help you."

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @serenenation @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @howlantic @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro

Obligatory @cxlrosii

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #arlecchino #pantalone #regrator #dottore #arlechinno x reader #pantalone x reader #regrator x reader #dottore x reader #genshin arlecchino #genshin pantalone #genshin regrator #genshin dottore #winery specials

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hetafice · 4 months

Text

allies taking care of a sick/injured partner :

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

request: How many characters will you write for at once? I’d love to see the Main 8 taking care of their partner as they’re bedridden (sick, injured, etc). If I have to limit it to a certain # of characters, just lmk for the future and you can pick whoever you’ve got the most ideas for for this?

a/n: i think the limit will be capped at 4-5. for the sake of cohesion i chose to write for each of the allies. enjoy!

America

He will absolutely baby you. To the point where it could easily become overwhelming.

In general, he suffers from the too-much gene in combination with his savior complex. Any injury on your end just exacerbates it.

I think he would also feel guilty on some level that he let you get injured in the first place, even if it was not his fault. So to overcompensate, he will refuse to let you do anything even remotely strenuous.

It starts off genuinely helpful. If you’re having a hard time moving around he’ll gladly help you sit up or move around. The issues arise once you start healing up a bit more. Rather than let you return to taking care of yourself, he’ll drag out the process for as long as possible.

It does not matter if you’ve been okay for weeks and can function normally, he’ll still insist on completing menial tasks for you. He might also try and prohibit you from doing anything he perceives as dangerous. If you put up a big enough fight he’ll let you do it, but only in his presence.

If you don’t mind being babied, great--he’ll gladly keep it up. If you don’t want to constantly be hovered over, and voice that to him, expect some pouting from his end.

Russia

Like Alfred, he is similarly overbearing but will relent if asked to do so.

Outwardly, Ivan is not a super emotional guy. However, if his partner was sick to the point of being bedridden, some of his emotions might start slipping through the cracks.

He’s protective and nurturing by nature, but past circumstances have forcefully muted that part of his personality. Your being sick would absolutely kickstart those instincts again. He would perfectly fill the role of a caretaker, cooking, cleaning, and nursing you back to health to the best of his ability,

He would be extra attentive in the mornings before he had to go to work. He’d check up on you, help you take your medication, and would try to boost your strength by cooking a healthy breakfast.

The constant checkups could get suffocating, but he genuinely only wants you to recover as fast as possible. And in his mind, that means being around you constantly to monitor your condition, or to provide whatever aid necessary.

Your being really sick serves as a way for him to realize how much he truly treasures you.

China

He is constantly badgering you about preserving your health, so when he first notices you aren’t feeling well he is far from pleased. When you tell him exactly what’s wrong he’s even more upset.

He’s a fixer, and he immediately jumps at the opportunity to find some remedy whether you want him to or not. The second he hears a sniffle from you, he’s already handing you mugs of strange concoctions and loading your meals with as many nutrient-rich vegetables as possible.

He’ll whip out holistic medicines that no one has heard of in centuries (and honestly, they might just work lol)

After the first time you get sick, he would also start trying to give you organic and highly medicinal foods, but as a preventative measure.

In parts of China, some people recommend drinking hot water in response to any small ailment. To Yao, it's a cure for everything, and from the first time you wake up in a cold sweat to the last, you’ll be handed glasses of barely drinkable water. Good luck with that. Honestly, who knows? Maybe drinking half a liter of hot water will stop whatever sickness you have from developing further -- or at the very least, distract you from your symptoms?

England

He is the type to say “I told you so” and pretend to not care, while still actively taking care of you.

He’ll chastise you for getting sick, maybe even going as far as to threaten to not take care of you should it happen again, but when it inevitably does he starts taking care of you without a second thought.

He’ll make sure you are comfortable, and have taken your meds on time, and will even prep tea for you if need be.

This scolding while simultaneously nursing you back to health is nothing new. You start sniffling or coughing, and he tells you that you should know better and not count on him to take care of him. Then only a few hours later when you’re sitting down somewhere trying to work on something you’ll see him checking up on you from the hallway from the corner of your eye.

He will by no means dote on you, but he makes sure to lend a helping hand whenever possible.

France

You’ll be left primarily to your own devices with this one.

Francis understands that you’re injured, and finds it very unfortunate, but unless you are seriously hurt you are going to be fending for yourself.

He won’t leave you completely out to dry though. Should you need something he’ll do his best to get it--but most of the menial practical tasks that come with taking care of someone unwell will be left to either you or a medical professional to manage.

His role is mainly to keep you comfortable and entertained. This is where he feels more confident taking the reins.

He’ll employ a variety of methods to make sure you’re relaxed. He’ll sporadically bring you glasses of red wine, help you with your skincare routine, offer massages, etc.

When it comes to leisure, rest, and relaxation he’s got it down pat.

Out of all of them, he would be the most likely to delegate a medical professional to come and take care of you in his stead. It’s not that he does not care, or feels inadequate; it’s just that someone trained in matters of rehabilitation would probably be more suited to the job--and what kind of partner would he be if he did not offer you the best of the best?

#hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia headcanons #hws america #hws england #hws russia #hws china #hws france #requests are still open!#happy new year btw....weird asl #what do you mean time is progressing

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trashbag-baby666 · 8 days

Text

Based on these headcanons welcome to the story of Clegan and Webgott parent best friends!

•Taking place in sunny San Diego, John is splitting his time. Hes embraced being a stay at home dad when he’s not on base. He had done two and a half tours in Iraq, when he got back home he didn’t want to give it up. Hell, he himself had gone to Top Gun. Now he was just Naval aviation instructor at the base, teaching young pilots how to fly and in-formation, some basic dog fighting. Nothing special like Top Gun though, is what he always says, when people ask.

•Gale is the Navy wife, San Diego? Cheyanne? Manitowoc? He didn’t care where they were he just wanted to be with John. But they had made their home here now. He’s a library director at the county library, he bakes, and he’s a full time mom and Bucky wrangler.

•Lieb, similar to John, had a career in the military. He did two tours in the 101st, essentially coming to an end when he messed up his knee after a helicopter crash. He had lost part of his unit and had to pull his Major out of the wreckage. When he got back San Francisco just didn’t feel right. Nothing did, he couldn’t adjust and everything felt threatening. Bingers he went until he met Web at a bar. They hit it off and something in him flipped. The more he went on dates with this guy and spent time with him he could distract himself from the intense feelings. It then gave him a purpose to really seek out help. After he got sober and him and Web got serious. They decided maybe a change of scenery is what they needed.

•Perfect timing and a job opened up researching marine life at San Diego State uni. Web applied and interviewed the two of them holding their hands tight as Web awaited the news. They were really holding out for the news he got the job. They had found the perfect loft apartment and everything. Come Monday when he got the call he had gotten the job they started packing.

•John and Gale have been married since 2014. they have an adopted daughter named Louisa but they call her Lou. She’s their entire world, Johns got her convinced to become a pilot someday. When Lou gets to go to work Gale if he has a meeting, she’ll spend the entire time looking at books about planes. She knows where all of them in the library are located.

•Gales favorite mental image is of John and Lou sitting on the floor of the library. Book in John’s lap, Lou next to him peering over. John’s telling Lou about all the different kinds of military aviation devices there is.

•John, although thousands of miles from Americas dairyland. Will not forget his Wisconsin dad mannerisms. Him and Lieb stand in the driveway together and drink and talk multiple times a week. John’s usually grilling something, they have the garage fridge that’s stocked full of bud light and diet come. (And some juice pouches for the girls.). He still has his midwestern accent, “you tell ya folks I says hi.” “bAg.” “Go packers and fuck da bears.” Gale is cringing everytime the accent comes out and plays. Gale ALSO hates the Midwest goodbyes, John’s a life long pro at them.

• “John let’s go you’ve said bye four times now.”

• “Wait a minute! Chick is fetching me his mom’s bread recipe!”

•This is how John gets his call sign Badger.

•He tells them that his call sign should just be Bucky. But Curt and the other guys have other thoughts. So, they start calling him Badger, well like, Bucky Badger. The states mascot. So, it stuck.

•Curt was John’s wingman until during their third tour Curt crashed. He lost his leg, lost his other best friend and back seater Dicky. Curt lore to come later!

•Web and Lieb have their daughter, Thalia through surrogacy from one of Joes sisters. Thalia is a lot like Lieb, hot headed, doesn’t think before she does, and has that Liebgott sass. She’s gotten herself into trouble a few time, as we know now, using that attitude. But she does carry some Webster in her, other than her Carmel curls just like Webs, she also loved books, She really likes writing stories in her journal.

•When Thalia was younger Lieb broke out his old guitar and tuned it. He would play and sing for her all the time. It would calm her down and he would sing her to sleep sometimes. Although he’d never admit that he sings.

•Curt and Lieb go to the same veterans support group at the VA together. Curt’s quickly became Thalias uncle too. Everyone loves Uncle Curt and his cool stories.

•Web and Lieb are just so happy together :)) even when Lieb is being a little shit and poking fun at him. Or when Web goes out on that damn boat that he knows Lieb hates. At the end of the day Web lets Lieb wrestle him for kisses in bed.

#masters of the air #mota #band of brothers #clegan #webgott #john egan #bucky egan #gale cleven #buck cleven #joe liebgott #david webster #modern au #mota headcanons #bofb headcanons

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iruinn · 6 months

Text

every breath of yours is a prayer to my temple ❀ iwaizumi hajime x reader

summary :

Iwaizumi has no soulmarks. He is fine with this. Iwaizumi is also a liar.

cw : smut (mild degradation, unprotected sex)

general tags/notes : OOCness, oikawa/female OC(not reader!), some one-sided pining on iwaizumi's part, as always unbeta read.

read on ao3 here

wc : 6656

MINORS DNI! ty

There are a few unshakeable facts Iwaizumi has always known, as steady as the sun rising in the east.

His mom and dad are extremely, almost disgustingly in love. Their matching timers (both reading 00:00:00, the countdown having finished far before Hajime was barely a twinkle in his parents' eyes) displayed proudly,

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. Despite the soulmark on his upper back (A black crown, standing out against his pale skin), Oikawa has always insisted on Hajime being first in his life. From when they were young, knobbly knees bumping into each other on bus rides back home to now, as he feels of the volleyball reaching his palm perfectly as he smashes it to the other side of the court, its always been Tooru and Hajime.

Iwaizumi doesn't have a soulmate.

"I mean," Matsukawa mutters. "Maybe it's just not the type of soulmark that manifests until you meet your soulmate? I've heard of soulmarks like those, rare as they are."

Iwaizumi doesn't know about that. Wouldn't he have felt the presence of a soulmate? Don't people always talk about how they feel a piece of themselves missing until they meet their other half?

"Hey, maybe that feeling is just due to the expectation of knowing your soulmate is somewhere out there, you know? Like, you don't actually feel anything but you think you do because you're so conditioned to missing a part of yourself." Hanamaki throws out his hands, spreading them like he had just impressed the wisdom of the ages upon them. Iwaizumi snorts, shaking his head.

"Dude, I think you're delusional."

The comment earns him a punch to the shoulder, but he just shakes it off, dodging Hanamaki's fists. It didn't matter, anyway. He didn't really need a soulmate. He had his team, and he had volleyball. Things were fine as they were, and Iwaizumi would be happy if they continued like this, always. The setting sun behind their backs, as he slung his arms around Oikawa's shoulders, grabbing him in a headlock and ruffling up his disgustingly perfect hair, the laughter of his friends in the spring air.

He should have known it was too good to last.

The beginning of the end started with her, he thinks.

A new manager, after their last one had graduated. She slotted into their life, neatly and without pause, like a missing puzzle piece that they didn't realize was missing until it was before them.

She immediately incited a feeling of overprotectiveness in the team. She laughed along to Hanamaki's and Mattsun's jokes, listened patiently to the excitable first years, and was immediately there to calm him down when he got too angry at Oikawa's flippishness, and recognized when Oikawa was overworking himself and put her foot down to stop him. (Even if it didn't work. Not much could stop Oikawa when he was determined.)

His breath caught in his throat, as his team members had thrown sideway glances at him, knowing he was in the same situation. She notices their attention, and looks at him questioningly too.

And yet, for all her cheerfulness, there were moments where she was overcome by a weird melancholy. Times when she glimpsed the soulmark on Oikawa's back, when his shirt rode up too high, when she noticed Yahaba's nose sometimes bleeding on its own (of all the soulmarks, a shared pain one was definitely an absolute pain in the ass), when she noticed the easy energy between Hanamaki and Matsukawa-

The entire team had noticed, especially Oikawa, who was always doted a lot more on her during those moments. His coy yells of "Manager-chan~" almost always succeeded those moments, as he would proceed to badger her and distract her.

It's an overnight training camp, over barbeque where she opens up, her voice carrying among the silence underneath the stars.

"I don't have a soulmate. Never will, I think."

"Ah, that's okay. I don't have one either. But I've never really felt the need for one anyway." He coughs, his ears turning red at the scrutiny. She observes him quietly and quirks an eyebrow.

"We're in the same boat, Iwaizumi-kun! We have to stick together then!"

He raises his skewer to her in a mimicry of a toast, relishing the sound of her laughter.

Hajime wonders if he's allowed to feel more for her. Was it worth mangling their dynamic so he could reach out and push one of her flowing strands of hair behind her ear? To reach down and take her lips, cupping the back of her neck in his palm? Was he made for her, their unmarked bodies in harmony with each other?

That day results in a change. Oikawa and Iwaizumi become Oikawa, Iwaizumi and her. She joins them on their walks home now, linking her arms with theirs, as she laughs at him and Oikawa ribbing each other. Their movie nights now have her sprawled across Oikawa's lap, her legs in his as they relentlessly mocked bad horror movies together, throwing popcorn at each other. She watches, water bottles and towels at ready as they relentlessly practice serves and spikes.

The best things come in threes, don't they?

This friendship of his, their trio, was so precious to him, and he wanted it to remain unbroken. He would push down his feelings for her if he had to protect it.

Their third and final year of high school arrives with a rush, and with it a sense of finality. The last year of volleyball he'd enjoy with his team, and their final chance to enter the Nationals. The insurmountable wall that was Shiratorizawa loomed over them as always, but this year would be different. It had to be.

Karasuno was a surprise. Seeing the grumpy kid that used to lurk around Oikawa now become a monstrous setter an extremely unpleasant one, watching Oikawa's anger at the prodigy gutting. But this was just another opponent to crush on their way to the nationals, and he ensured that his spikes were at their fiercest. Karasuno is vanquished, but he knows that the team is stumbling and will be scary once they find their wings. He thinks Oikawa has realized it too.

The tiny middle blocker from Karasuno makes him feel...weird. A yearning he didn't think was possible to feel. He's mildly insulted that its the annoying chibi of all people that brings it out of him.

Matsukawa laughs and laughs. "Hey, maybe he's your soulmate?"

Oikawa's head whips around, and walks up he grips Iwaizumi's head between his hands. "If your soulmate is Tobio's minion, I will never forgive you, Iwa-chan!" Iwaizumi sputters, headbutting him. "Shittykawa, you'd think it'd be a bit more obvious if he was!"

Iwaizumi wonders when he became Tooru-kun to her.

Their manager watches them both wrestle, a smile on her face. "Tooru-kun and me will support you no matter what, you know that right?"

"Ah, Iwa-chan...we're together now."

The world ends on a Thursday.

Iwaizumi knew he should have stayed in bed today. Her nervous stride as she slinks up to him forms a strange pit in his stomach. The pink spots of color high up on her cheekbones, her face fighting off a smile. The way Oikawa walks alongside her, her arms linked to his. The way he feels like an intruder now, a voyeur to moments he shouldn't be witnessing.

He knows what Oikawa is about to say even before he opens his mouth.

He wonders how he didn't see it before. She covers her face with her hands, blushing furiously, but Oikawa continues looking at him, waiting for something.

Iwaizumi smiles, punches his best friend in the shoulder lightly. It's okay. Maybe things could still be the same. He turns to her and snorts. "You sure you want to put up with this dumbass?"

They laugh together, the tension dissipating. He walks with them, but the distance between them has widened. A bitter part of Iwaizumi wonders why Oikawa had to go for her when he had his own soulmate, but he knows that is a selfish thought. He wonders how much of his feelings was solely because they both happened to lack soulmates.

Oikawa whines, a relieved look crossing his face, so quickly that Iwaizumi wonders if he imagined it. "Iwa-chan, you're so mean! You're still number 1 in my heart, you know?"

"Shittykawa, have you taken one too many volleyballs to the face or something?"

It would be nice, he thinks. To have someone to call his own. He watches his best friends as they shyly steal glances at each other, faces red, and despite that bitterness he hopes they're happy together. And maybe if she met someone despite not having a soulmate, he could too.

Iwaizumi curses as he strides down the corridor, knowing he's late. Oikawa had slunk away somewhere, and the next match was theirs, but their coach sends him away to track down their captain. The spring tournament is their last chance at Nationals, and he is extremely high strung already.

Where had he seen that before? It comes to him in a rush, and he realizes she's a Karasuno student.

He's too lost in his thoughts to notice the whirlwind barreling down his path, their collision imminent. He notices the girl a second too late, and he struggles to halt his stride, but she crashes into him, sending them both to the floor.

"Shit,can't you see where you're going??" He yells, and the lump on top of him groans, slowly lifting its head from his chest. He notices her uniform first, the familiarity striking.

The second thing he notices is her forehead and part of her cheek glowing different colours, iridescent. She looks down at him from her position and yelps, her expression going from annoyance to shock as she stares at his face. He feels his heart beating faster, his eyes refusing to leave those glowing marks, watching as they slowly fade away.

He straightens, grabbing her raised hand, and the places where their skin touches flares to life with color.

She's the most beautiful person he's ever seen, he realizes.

He sits up, and she flushes red, realizing she's on his lap. She still doesn't move, and raises her hand slowly. He watches, frozen, as she pokes his cheek, almost in a trance. She pulls her finger away, and he notices it's glowing, orange and red. She looks at her finger and at his cheek, and he feels the place she poked him blaze with warmth. He thinks it could burn a hole in him.

There are a few unshakeable facts Iwaizumi thought he'd always known. They might not have been as immovable as he thought they were.

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. It's not just Tooru and Hajime anymore, but maybe that's okay.

Iwaizumi doesn't have might have desperately hopes he's not mistaken has a soulmate.

You have a soulmate.

At least, you think you do. You throw the volleyball to your cousin, watching him stumble to receive it.

"What makes you so sure you do, (name)?" Hinata asks, curious. He tosses the ball back to you and you catch it cleanly, spinning it on a finger. You think it's a fair question. After all, you don't have a soulmark, unlike Hinata.

"It's just a feeling, you know?" You shrug. "Like I just know there's someone out there for me." You drop the ball, flopping onto the grass under you, and your cousin bounds up to you, throwing his arms around your neck. You pat his fluffy orange hair, feeling a rush of affection. "Of course, it's just a feeling. I'm not as lucky as you, to have such a pretty soul mark."

Hinata scrambles away from you, lifting his shirt and grimacing. The golden fox is bright, and you wonder what kind of person it belongs to. They must certainly be somewhat flashy, and you're very curious to see how they'd fit your cousin.

You giggle, getting up and brushing the grass off your shorts, pulling Hinata up with you. "Come on nerd, let's go get some more practice in before Auntie calls us for dinner."

"Blech! I don't care about soulmates anyway! I just want to play some volleyball! I'm gonna play before I graduate middle school, I swear!"

You believe him. There's very little your cousin can't do when he puts his mind to it. You shoot him a thumbs up and he grins at you. "For what its worth, I think you have a soulmate too! They have to be a really cool person, though, or I'm fighting them off!"

He cheers, and you follow him, your spirits high.

You've lived with your aunt and cousins for as long as you've remembered. Your parents had died when you were really young, and your mother's sister had taken you in. You got along with your cousins like a house on fire, immediately charmed by Hinata and Natsu. Despite the two year difference between you and Hinata, you both were really close, and you went along with most of his whims, encouraging his interest in volleyball and practicing with him outside your house , throwing the ball at him for hours on end, while Natsu cheered you both on.

You were happy when he decided to join the same school you were in, even though you'd both only get to share one year together, since you're already in your last year of high school. You both cycle to school together on the first day, and you listen to him chatter away about joining the volleyball club. You remember that the volleyball club at your school didn't have a lot of success, but you hope your cousin has a good time regardless.

The next day, you laugh high and loud when Daichi grabs you and shakes you, calling your cousin a menace. You know he'd grow on Daichi eventually. The competition the captain had set certainly explained the fervor with which Hinata had practiced back home.

Reaching school, you see the captain of the team is in your class, Daichi. You're pretty friendly with him and you stride up to him, leaning on his back. He yelps in surprise, then grins back at you when he notices you. "(name), hey! We're in the same class again!"

You smirk, bumping fists with him. "I can't believe we're in our last year of high school already! It feels like yesterday, stumbling into class in out first year..."

He sighs. "Yeah, it's our last shot at making something of the volleyball team too."

"Speaking off..." You trail off, and he looks at you, curious. "My baby brother is in his first year of high school and he might be, no scratch that, he's definitely applying to the team. Be nice to him, okay?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I make no promises. Is he any good at playing?"

You shrug. "He's short and spunky, real fast. I think he can do anything he puts his mind to, he's just a bit....over excitable."

You're not surprised when he becomes a full fledged member of the team.

You try to keep up with your cousin's matches, but your own classes and your determination to get into a good college had you busy for most of the days. You did always make time for when he talked about his matches against the other schools and his own rival/teammate, Kageyama.

You notice immediately when he comes home one day from a match, quiet. You tilt your head at him questioningly, and he plops down next to you on the ground, sprawling over you.

"Get off, you lump!" You giggle, pushing him aside, and he whines. "We won today, a practise match against a team. Aobajohsai."

You fistbump him, but he's clearly out of it, returning it with much less enthusiasm than he normally would. "You're..not as excited as I thought you would be about that."

He sits up, shaking his head. "I am! But their captain didn't join until the very last set, and he was scary."

"Want me to come to your next match against them and beat him up?" You grin, flashing your muscles (they're very pitiful muscles, unfortunately), and he snorts. "Nah, we'll just win against them again next time! I'm gonna be the best decoy ever!"

You mildly worry over what Daichi was making your brother do. A decoy? At least he still looked extremely excited about it. You think he wants to tell you about something else, but he shakes the thought away, and you decide to let him be.

The following weeks bring with it the interhigh, and you hear the volleyball team has been doing pretty well, winning their first two matches. You wave at the team one morning when they're heading out, looking extremely nervous, and you giggle at the second years that immediately pounce on Hinata, asking him how they knew you. You wish them luck, before heading into your school. You're sure they'll bring about another victory.

It's a surprise when Hinata comes home late at night, his eyes red and face rubbed. You bite your lip, realising what happened and watch him absent mindedly fool around with the ball.

"Want to talk about it?

He sniffs, rubbing his eyes. "We lost. To the grand king." You tsk. You're not sure who the grand king is, though.

"Was it close?" He nods, and you put an arm around his shoulder, bringing him into a hug. "You'll get them next time. There isn't much that can keep you down, and your team looks crazy enough to be the same." You think he knows this already, but you're a supportive big sister and you'll give him all the reassurance and praise he deserves.

He perks up, like he's remembering something. "Oh yeah, (name)! There's a spiker on Aobajohsai who makes me feel weird? His spikes are so cool, they're like BWAAH but he feels very familiar to me somehow..."

You were halfway to the kitchen, ready to pull out a knife when he said this spiker felt weird, but that explanation was even more bewildering. "Maybe he's your soulmate?" You wonder out loud, and he shakes his head resolutely. "He isn't, I'm sure. Besides, he doesn't really feel like a fox...."

You point out that his actual soulmate might not feel like one too, but it falls on deaf ears. The conversation is derailed with the both of you discussing whether Hinata's soulmark meant that his soulmate would be a foxy person, and you poke and tease at his red cheeks.

You shake your pom poms at Daichi and Kiyoko, questioningly. "You know, I came here to support my brother, not to become a de facto cheerleader for your baby nerds."

You had a free day from classes, and decided to accompany the volleyball team to their Spring high. You were already beginning to regret the decision when Kiyoko and the other tiny manager had procured a couple of pom-poms mysteriously from nowhere, pressing them onto you.

Daichi gives you a thumbs up, enthusiastically. "(name), supporting our team as a cheer leader IS supporting Hinata. We're all a team!"

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, glancing at Kiyoko, but she just shrugs at you. "Whatever gets them hyped up."

Resigned, you're glad you decided to doll yourself up a bit for the matches. You'd make the other teams jealous of Hinata for having a cute cheerleader on their side. You nod, resolutely, holding back a grimace when you notice the team looking extremely nervous.

They would be fine...right?

You decide to go hunt down some stomach medicine for the freckled first year, who looked like he was a second away from blowing his breakfast all over the court. Throwing a salute to Kiyoko, you stride away, breaking into a quick jog down the corridors when you hear the announcer.

You crash into someone at full speed, and you have just enough time to yell out an "Oh shit!" before you take the person down, landing on top of them. The first thing your brain notices is how hard and muscly the body under you is, and you find yourself turning red, pushing yourself up on the boy quickly, stopping when you see his face.

He's...really handsome. You're kind of mad at how handsome he is. Thick furrowed eyebrows, cute spiky hair, and body built like a brickhouse, and tan cheeks dusted with a pink, that was probably mirroring yours.

Except...his chin and most of his neck is glowing with a really pretty combination of blue and purple. It looks kind of silly, but they fade away even as you watch. The boy sits up in a hurry, and the position ends up with you on his lap, and you feel your face getting hotter. You look down and notice your own hands are also covered in a weird glow.

What the...

You raise your hand to his face, unable to stop yourself. You had a hypothesis, and your brain was running at a hundred miles an hour.

The boy watches you as you press a finger to his face, feeling his warm skin. You pull your finger away and it blazes a bright orange, the spot where you pressed against his cheek also glowing, like a facsimile of a highlight.

He grabs your hand, and the both of you stare at your interlocked hands, the colors forming slowly where your skin touches.

Well. You're glad your suspicions about having a soulmate didn't let you down. You kind of think you hit the jackpot with him too, considering he was one of the hottest people you've ever seen.

His face is blazing red. "What..?"

Ah.

"I did not mean to say that loud..." You realize you're still on his lap, and you scramble back. He snorts, getting up, and pulling yourself up with him. You note he still hasn't let go of your hand.

The announcer blares out, and the both of you jump like you're struck by lightning, the dreamy moment broken. He straightens, and points to you.

"After my match." He looks over you, and winces, remembering something. "You're a Karasuno student, huh...I'm pretty sure our next match is against your team. I'll find you after we win."

You puff up in indignation. The audacity!

"My baby brother and his team are going to kick your ass!" You stomp your feet, turning around to storm away, your hair whipping around your face. You feel a hand wrap around your upper arm as he pulls you back into him, snorting in amusement at your anger.

"You're also really pretty, by the way." You huff, looking around for people before reaching in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheeks, extremely light and quick, the only hint of it the light glow on his cheek that fades away in a second. You wonder if your lips are tinted. You guess they are, from the way he stares at them.

"Charmer. I'll see you later. Sorry about rooting against you."

You escape his grasp while he's still shocked from your kiss, winking at him. You had a nervous team to cheer for.

You hunt down your soulmate after the match. You had explained to Hinata quickly what had happened before the match started, and he nodded at you understandingly when you slink away from the celebrating team. You find a lone figure sitting on a bench, head bent, and you sigh, hoisting up the moist towels in your arm, glad you came prepared.

You sneak up to him, wrapping a towel around his neck, and he whips his head at you in shock, before relaxing and realizing who it was.

"Come to gloat?" He asks, before a regretful look crosses his face.

You move in front of him, holding his face in your hands. You watch his cheeks glow as you rub your fingers across them gently. It's weird how comfortable you are with doing that, but he didn't seem bothered by it either so you aren't going to stop.

"I'm going to ignore that because I understand that you're sad. For what it's worth, you were really cool out there."

"We still lost."

"Karasuno's pretty scary now, huh." You grin, proudly, and he lets out a sigh. "My brother, Hinata. He's the spunky middle blocker."

Okay, maybe you were gloating a bit. But today was the first time you saw them in action, and they were a lot more intense and good than you expected. You didn't know a lot about volleyball, but the stuff they were doing definitely looked super cool. You kind of understood Hinata's descriptors of 'BWAAH' and 'BOOM' now to describe their moves.

"That kid is your brother? That explains some things.." You look at him questioningly, and he shakes his head at you.

"I'm not gonna ask, I think. Iwaizumi, right?"

He's startled, realizing he doesn't even know your name. You introduce yourself to him, and he mouths your name, voicing it out.

"It's Hajime to you. You're my soulmate."

You grin at him, pulling him up from the bench. "Hajime, then. You know, there's a silver lining to your team losing today." He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers. You lean onto him cheerfully. "What is it?"

"You get to be comforted by your soulmate, of course! Let's go get some dinner, on me!"

Clearly cheered up by the prospect, he smiles at you, and you feel your heart flutter. Seriously, you must have saved a country in your previous life to get a soulmate this cute. You were determined to stain him with every color of the rainbow all over his body by the end of today.

He pulls you along. "Let me introduce you to my team first." You walk alongside him, wrapping yourself around his arm, needling at him to explain to you volleyball terms, the colors at the junction of where your skin meets his as bright as the setting sun.

There are a few unshakeable facts to his life that Hajime knows will never change.

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. When he introduces you to him, you cheerfully exclaim "Grand king! I think I'm supposed to beat you up!" and Oikawa sputters. Hajime doesn't hold back his laughter as Oikawa pouts, but you're paying more attention to Hajime, distracted by his laughter, moving in again to brush your fingers across his cheek.

Hajime loves seeing the colors appear on you. He loves the different shades they take, how they perfectly look like the imprint of his fingers when he presses them into your waist, when he grips the back of your neck and kisses you, when he brushes them across your forehead. He especially loves seeing them on your lips. He thinks they probably look a bit ridiculous to other people with their stained lips, but to him its the most endearing thing he's ever seen.

You also love seeing the colors on him. You've always been a bit possessive of your belongings, and Hajime is yours in a way no one else will ever be. You love watching the colors appear on his arms as you grip them, wrapping yourself around him as you both walk together. You also adore pressing kisses to his cheeks and lips, surprising him almost every time you do it. You know the marks you leave on his neck sometimes last much for an entire day, and you know he deals with the ribbing from his teammates every time they see it. It just entices you to leave more.

Most of all, Hajime knows that his soulmate loves him.

The colours dance around your boyfriend’s chest, as you trail your fingers down it. You’re lying on top of him, your arm crossed and supporting your head on his stomach, as you entertain yourself.

You pout when he stays asleep, dead to the world. Apparently your naughty shenanigans last night had knocked him out good, and you’re kind of proud of yourself for it.

But that was neither here nor there, and right now you wanted his attention. You moved up, biting his cheek, and he jostles awake with surprise, closing his eyes again when he realizes it’s just you.

“Go back to sleep then, baby.”

“Brat…”

You giggle, tweaking his nose.“I’m bored, Hajime.”

With a groan, you bury your face in his neck, enjoying his warmth and smell. “Don’t wanna. You’re so busy with your team…it feels like forever since we’ve been like this.”

He’s silent at your words, his hands coming down and squeezing your thighs, pulling at them. “Hey…I’m sorry about that. You’ve given up so much for me and I’ve repaid you by being too busy to spend time with you...”

You raise your head, frowning, and flick his forehead. “Ow!”

“Idiot!” Your cheeks puff up in anger. “You’re following your dreams, Hajime. It’s so fucking cool that you’re a trainer for the Olympics team now. You don’t have to apologize to me for anything. You’re my soulmate and I love you.”

He stares at you, his expression warm. Bending down, his lips brush across your cheeks lightly, and you giggle at the feeling. “I don’t deserve you.” He pulls back, watching the colour dance across your cheeks and nose where his lips brushed your face, before fading away.

You scoff at him. “You deserve the best.”

“And that’s you?”

“Of course it is.” You poke your tongue out at him. “What’s got you in such a melancholic mood today?” Any other time with you naked on him would have led to a lot of teasing and groping by now. He’s holding himself back.

“I met Tooru today.”

“Oh?” You sit up on his chest, curiously, and he supports you without any effort, his hands moving up to your waist.

“He told me he found out who his soulmate is, love.”

“But isn’t he still dating that manager of yours from high school..?” Hajime nods, and you whistle. “He’s pretty conflicted about the whole thing. He feels really bad for leaving his soulmate alone, but he’s been dating her for as long as we have. He thought they’d make it.” You’re silent at first. “So this is what’s gotten you worried?”

“He’s my best friend and I’ve been worrying about him forever..I’ve rarely seen him this broken up about things.”

You run your fingers over his hard stomach and chest comfortingly. “He’ll figure it out, Hajime. He always has.” Admittedly, you’ve always been a skeptic of him and his girlfriend. You frown at the thought. Hajime had told you pretty early on about his feelings for her and you often thought about how you would have felt if you had met Hajime while he was dating her instead. And now someone else was in that position.

Your boyfriend knows you well, and immediately knows where your mind is heading. He picks up your hand with his, interlocking your fingers and kissing it. “Idiot. I’m here with you now.” You slap at his chest.

“I know! I can’t believe you ever thought you didn’t have a soulmate.”

His fingers pinch at your thigh and you yelp in surprise. “My apologies, princess. Not all of us can have the same self-confidence you did when you thought you had a soulmate. I didn’t even have a mark.”

“And now you’re covered with them all the time.”

He knows that if he looked down where your body met his, it’d be glowing with different colours. The colours themselves were sometimes bright, sometimes muted, sometimes they’d last for hours and sometimes they would fade away after he took his hands off you, so quickly it’s like they were never there.

You’ve tested the way the colours appear extensively (intentionally and unintentionally…you’ve always found it hard to keep your hands off him) but you’ve never discovered any sort of pattern. You both concluded that it was just random, if pretty.

“Totally not embarrassing having to show up for training with orange marks all over my neck. You know your cousin is on the team, right?”

You giggle unapologetically at him. “Just think of it as revenge for whatever PDA Hinata and Atsumu throw at you. I know it’s a lot.”

Your boyfriend groans at the very thought. “I have lost count of the amount of times I’ve spiked balls into their heads to interrupt them. I thought we were bad. Most of the team is very traumatized.”

You coo at him. “My poor baby. We are definitely worse and you know it.”

He snorts. “I’ll show you worse.”

He lifts you, both hands going around your waist, making you support yourself on your knees. You start to complain before you’re silenced quickly, your words cutting off into a moan as he releases one hand from your waist to rub you, experienced fingers finding your clit quickly.

You’ve been together for quite a while, and know each other’s bodies as well as your own by now. It doesn’t take him long to work you up into a frenzy, his fingers entering you.

“You’re so wet already for me, you cute little slut.” He stretches you, his fingers scissoring. “Just look at that.”

He withdraws them from inside you and you whine in annoyance at the sudden emptiness, your thighs shaking. You flush red looking at the juices from you coating his fingers.

“Hajime…please.”

“Hmm? Please what?” You’re annoyed at how unbothered he looks lying down in comparison to your flustered self, and you poke at his chest. He repays you with a spank to your ass, and you yelp in surprise. “Behave. And use your words. I know that pretty mouth has its uses other than moaning for me.”

You’re pouting, but you’re enjoying this tremendously, and he knows it. Nothing gets you hot and bothered more than your boyfriend going all authoritative on you.

“I need you in me..”

You sit back down on him, feeling him hot and hard right under you. Moving back and forth slowly, you grind on him, covering him in slick.

You pick up the hand of his that was inside you, inserting his fingers in your mouth and tasting yourself on him. He grips your cheek, dislodging your hands.

“Shit..shit, okay.”

He lets go of your face, lifting you again slightly, before entering you. Your body arched as he pushed the head of the shaft in, your wetness offering little resistance. You both groan in unison as you bottom out. “Can’t hold myself back against you, baby girl.”

You giggle as you feel his thickness fill you out. You supported your hands on his stomach as you began to move up again slowly, and gasped as his hips surged up to meet yours with ease.

Hajime runs his hands down your body, his fingers tweaking at your nipples, grinning at the temporary stain of colour that covered them. You looked ever so pretty on his dick, bouncing up and down, covered in the colours that marked you solely as his. Your eyes are closed, your hair flowing down your back, the sounds of your skin slapping against his intermixed with the soft sound of rain outside your window.

He continues moving his hips slowly, the warmth of you covering him so well it’s driving him a little bit insane. He takes the opportunity while your eyes are closed to reach a single arm out to the side where the nightstand drawer is, extracting something he’d been keeping hidden for a while.

You’re in heaven, as he hit your sweet spots, filling you out so well, your pussy clenching around him tight. You startle as he picks up your hand lying on his chest and you feel something cold moving down your finger.

“What..?”

Your eyes fly open, looking down to where he’s interlocked your fingers with his. Your eyes lock onto the shiny band now adorning your fingers, the rock on it glittering. You pause moving, your brain trying to catch up. You meet his eyes, and they’re warm with his love, the unasked question in the air.

“You’re…you’re such an idiot, Hajime!” You gasp out, tears springing into your eyes. A hint of worry is in his expression as he notices your damp eyes. “Sweetheart..?”

“Hurry up and cum in me so I can admire my new ring! Who proposes during sex? We’re gonna get my sweat all over it!”

You whine, and he laughs, sitting up, leaning against the headboard. He grips your waist as your arms fly around his neck, and kisses you as he speeds up, gripping your ass. “I love you.” His lips continue to move across your face, kissing away your tears, swallowing your moans, until they finally latch onto your neck, as he bites and sucks at it. Your nails dig into his back. “I’m close, Hajime-“

“I got you, baby, it’s okay.”

You bury your face in his shoulders as you climax, feeling your cum mix with his as he empties himself inside you, the mixture of fluids leaking out. You shiver as you both take a moment to get a hold of yourselves, and he adjusts himself again, whispering praises into your ear as he falls back onto the bed ,taking you down with him, still inside you. You lie down on his chest, panting, feeling his move up and down with you as he kisses the top of your head.

You turn your head to the side when you’ve caught your breath, bringing up your hand to your face and examining the ring on it.

“I swear I had a proper proposal all planned out.” He grabs your hand, rubbing across it with his thumb. “I was going to take you out to a fancy dinner, get on my knees, go the whole way. Bribe the waiter to put the ring in champagne.”

You flush at his words, feeling your eyes dampen again. “You’re making me tear up again.”

“You looked so pretty right there. I couldn’t resist.” He kisses your hand gently. “I’m sorry for not making it fancier.”

“It’s perfect.” You lift your head, joining your lips to his. “I’d marry you right now if I could. I like the sound of Mrs. Iwaizumi a lot…”

He hisses, turning you both to your sides, hooking your leg around his. “You’re going to get me going again if you call yourself that.”

You laugh. “So eager to wife me up, Hajime?”

“Have been for years, baby girl.” Gripping at your thighs, he pulls himself out of you, admiring the sight of your cum and his dripping out of you. You wince at the feeling of the liquids cooling between your thighs, and he notices, getting out of bed and lifting you in his arms. “Shower first, though.”

“Ooooh.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you in, hooking your head on his shoulder and admiring your hand with the ring. “So husbandly already, Mr. Iwaizumi~”

You hear his smile as the door shuts behind you and he places you on the bathroom counter, leaning in. Your hand grips his hair as he nips at you, the two of you marking each other with the colours of the rainbow. “Anything for my future wife.”

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #woa! here be smut!#soulmate au #this is just rly fluffy and self indulgent like everything i ever write bshedjfgbdhrgdhgfbrdgf #i love soulmate aus...#sorry2 oikawa tooru hes going thru it in this au i think #keep ur head up king..#anyway enjoy!! aaaaaaaaaaaaa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi hajime x you

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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

Text

Title: A Long Time Coming {2}*

Lewis Hamilton x Friend Group Reader

Warning: Cursing, Teasing, Slow Burn, Plot, Raunchy/Crude Language, Jokes & Comedy

Words: 7.2k

Summary: After a long, grueling and stressful 2023 season where Lewis dominated and showed the world once again why he was the best at what he does. He walks away with his 8th championship title and plans with his closest and bestest for some much-needed R&R.

Note: If you couldn’t tell by the summary, we are manifesting with this fic, MANIFESTING HARD for Lewis for 2023. Also, thank you Ru for filling in some of the friend info for me. XOXO

Note II: I like the Daniel Ricciardo’s face and how he looks so sweet and unintentionally hot. He seems to have a good friendship with Lew, so I added him in.

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

{Part 1}

~~~~~~~

Meg the Stallion and Beyonce rang in your ear as you pounded your feet on the beach as you ran like your novel was chasing you badgering you to finish it this instant. You ran faster than you’d ever ran on one of your jogs. The sun was rising and it gave a beautiful distraction rounding out your group of distractions. You rapped out loud along with Meg and Bey using the bass to fuel you to push yourself harder. You ignored the burn in your thighs you pushed and pushed and pushed. You began shouting when it got too much but you still refused to stop.

However, no matter how fast you ran, or how hard you pushed yourself you still replayed the events of last night. You still heard the muffled words from the other side of the wall. You heard the moans and the deafening silence. None of it wanted to leave your brain. This morning when you’d woken you still hadn’t wrapped your head around it. You’d gotten to the point to really wonder if he’d purposefully put you in the room beside them. Then you wracked your brain further wondering if it was maliciously done.

Was he fucking with you in a psychological way? It didn’t make sense. You weren’t frenemies. Something like that you did to someone you didn’t really like or respect. You were sure there was no bad blood between you. However, when you took that away the answer you were left with was one you didn’t dare touch. You didn’t even dare to think about it. Instead, you shoved it into that untouchable travel back and avoided making any eye contact with it. It was edging the line of exploding from everything it was already holding.

Your brain couldn’t handle many more things to think about right now. You were at capacity. You could feel your breakdown steadily approaching. You needed to blow off steam in the worst way. After pushing yourself for another fifteen minutes, you did another mile and a half then turned around to walk the whole four miles back to the villa.

You took your time, thoroughly enjoying the quiet of the still brand-new morning, the beauty of the scenery and the calm of the sweet breeze wafting over your sweat dampened skin. A wave crashed to the beach and washed around your ankles. It was so warm and inviting you almost stripped and ran in. Instead, you peeled off your sneakers and socks and dropped into the sand. You weren’t in any rush to get back. You dug your phone out of the strap on your arm and took a few calming breaths. A fraction of an idea came into mind and instead of thinking about it, you pulled up your draft app and let your fingers fly.

You’d expected a sentence or a paragraph at best, but after 2 pages you were still going. Would you be able to keep any of it? Who knew but you didn’t stop. Was what you were putting down unputdownable? Meh, still to be determined. By the time you ran out of steam, you had five pages. Deciding not to read it then and there you turned your phone off and focused on the view. Who needed any more than this?

When you got back to the villa everyone was already sitting around the table where a massive breakfast feast was laid out.

“There she is. Where you been girl?”

You held up your shoes so they would get the drift.

“How far today?”

“Four and a half miles,” you replied to Gisella.

“Damn girl, running from someone or tryna run off your ass?”

You snorted. “Whatever, this ass is here to stay!”

For emphasis you dropped a baby twerk showing off one of your best assets. Cassie, Robin, Nikki and Gisella cheered you on. Noticeably Justice remained silent, her eyes glued to her phone with a bored look pasted on her face. Interesting you thought.

“Sit down let’s grub,” Lewis said.

You ignored him, leaning down to grab a tomato from Nikki’s massive omelet.

“Mmm. I’m gonna take a shower. Y’all go ahead.”

Not waiting for any replies, you walked inside toward your room for that shower you desperately needed. Though your belly was grumbling from that small taste of Nikki’s omelet you took your time. It didn’t matter that you were having serious daydreams about identifying the smells you’d caught from that table, allowing your imagination to run wild. It didn’t matter that the longer you did that your belly got louder than your music. By the time you got out, your stomach was eating you from the inside out. that was when you hurried your movements. Food was the ultimate motivator.

When you stepped back out, the commotion was loud. Lewis was laughing and carrying on with someone across the table that was not there when you came back. After a few moments, his eyes landed on you and recognition hit you.

“There she is. The life of the party!”

You smiled widely as you approached Daniel.

“Daniel Ricciardo!”

You did a dab in front of him at the same time he did it then both of you giggled like idiots before he pulled you into a hug.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. What are you doing here? This isn’t Australia.”

“Naw, I know. Lewis sent the invite, and I was like hell yeah. I’d never been to Mozambique so here I am.”

“Regret it yet?”

“Now that I know you’re here, not a chance.”

You smiled, dipping your head at his words. The last season you’d spent a lot of time with Daniel. He and Lewis were close and got along well and because you’d been to every race weekend, you’d gotten to know each other better than just passing strangers. You enjoyed his company and more importantly enjoyed his face. He was always a gentleman and always sweet to you.

“Such a sweet talker.”

“Are you guys gonna chat the whole time let’s eat,” Lewis chimed in.

His voice was tight as if he was speaking through clenched jaws. Again, you ignored him.

“Shall we? Looks like you’re next to me,” Daniel said holding out his arm for you.

“Yes, thank you.”

You looped your arm in his and allowed him to lead him around the table to the two empty chairs remaining. Ever the gentleman, he allowed you to sit first by pulling out your chair.

“Thank you. It’s so cool you’re here. Honestly, I like you better than any of the other drivers. You and Seb.”

“Well, I like you better than any of Lewis’ other friends that came to the race weekends.”

“Woooow,” Miles voiced mad loud.

“Don’t be jealous,” you said sticking out your tongue at him.

You brought your attention to the table to survey the dishes and quickly made a game plan. By the end of breakfast, you wanted every single dish in your belly. Taking your time, you filled your plate not caring that everyone could see how much of a glutton you were being.

“I see why you need to run 4 miles,” Miles added.

Without warning, you picked up a sausage and threw it at his head. When it hit him right on the mouth you sneered at him, “And hol’ dat!”

Everyone laughed all at his expense.

“Is after breakfast a good time to switch rooms?”

You groaned internally at Nikki’s question.

“Yeah.”

“Why’re you switching rooms?”

You ignored him again focusing on your food. You were not doing this passive aggressive shit with him right now even though your silent treatment was massively passive aggressive.

“Y/N?”

You pushed the strawberry pancakes into your mouth and moaned exaggeratedly hoping he’d get the hint and drop it.

“Y--.”

“It’s nothing Lew, she just wants a different view. I thought the foliage and horizon would be a good one.”

You could feel the tension off of him but still ignored him. The conversation turned and everyone began listing off things to do and places to see. Everyone had different ideas of what consisted of a vacation for them so within a few minutes the list of possible things to do had over fifteen things on it. You happily ate and chatted with Daniel when he leaned to you to spark conversation. You barely paid attention to the discussion to narrow down the itinerary.

“Anything you wanna do, Y/N?”

Lewis again attempted to engage you and by now you knew that he knew you were purposely ignoring him. This was his defiance to annoy you because the one thing you wouldn’t do is ignore Lewis Hamilton. God Forbid. You didn’t fall in though, instead, you looked to Daniel.

“Anything you wanna do?”

“The beach is calling my name.”

“Mine too actually,” you seconded.

“Yeah? Wanna hang with me then?”

“Absolutely.”

You could feel Lewis’ radar eyes on you boring hot holes into your head. He was daring you to look at him, but you didn’t. It would be more beneficial to ignore him. You knew every single button to push and right now you wanted to push every single one of them until he got the hint that you were pissed.

After a pit stop in your room to change into a bathing suit, you attempted to find Nikki to get the room switch over with, but she was already gone with a few others to tackle that endless list of activities. When you walked back outside you bumped right into Lewis. Clenching your jaw, you attempted to step around him, but he stepped in your path to stop you. After two attempts you sighed.

“Why are you giving me the silent treatment?”

You glared at him then rolled your eyes continuing said silent treatment.

“Come on kitten, you know these games are boring.”

“Fuck you! You know what is boring, listening to you fuck your flavor of the month through the walls knowing I was on the other side of it. That—that’s boring and fucking childish.”

You walked away not giving him the time to reply. You followed the path from the villa to the private beach practically stomping the entire way. Just before you got to where sand met stone Lewis slid in front of you. He didn’t speak though, he just stared you down. He was challenging you.

“Also, why bring a flavor of the month that couldn’t suck a dick even if she had the first edition copy of the Kama Sutra? Pathetic.”

You exaggeratedly rolled your eyes at him and pushed past him, clipping his shoulder intentionally. Instantly, you regretted the move. His shoulders were a lot broader than you remembered, and stronger too. A dull ache radiated in your shoulder from the aggressive contact, but you pushed forward. Before you got too far, you felt Lewis wrap his hand around your wrist and pull you back.

You spun to him colliding into his defined chest. Your first reaction was annoyance and anger but at the feel of his impeccable abs and chest muscles pressing into the softness of your torso and breasts that anger cooled and made way for something else—something you weren’t prepared for, something you had to quash now.

Lewis’ tongue darted across his lips ever so slowly pulling your attention and holding it for much longer than you wanted.

“Were you listening in, kitten?”

The look in his eyes was a teasing one of course but there was something else there. Something you hadn’t seen before. The look poked at you, goading you

“Did you want me to listen in LewLew Boo?”

His cocky smirk made an appearance before he leaned a little closer. His scent engulfed you. The sea salt and fragrant indigenous flowers around only enhanced it. The fire behind his honey kissed orbs burned into you. Neither of you spoke again. It was as if both of you were searching for something within the other’s eyes, something that would determine the next move.

“Eh-Em!”

Neither of you moved. Again, the sound came. You turned and found Justice standing there with a salty look on her face.

“Am I interrupting?”

You took a step back from Lewis but his hand on your waist remained. Glancing at him, you waited for him to release you. He didn’t though.

“Is that why you want to change rooms?”

He still hadn’t given any acknowledgement to Justice and his question only proved he wasn’t fazed she was standing there within earshot.

“Maybe if I wasn’t next door, you’d be able to concentrate on the bad head. I mean—WAFF.”

You saw the moment your snarky comment made impact. The bratty little monster inside of you snickered. You were in no way meek or mild. You always rose to the occasion. It was your fatal flaw. If he wanted to play mind games, you’d play mind fuck. Moving from his grasp you walked around him again leaving him standing there.

The beach turned out to be just what the doctor ordered. The water, sand, drinks, and company really took your mind off of everything—book, editor, agent, your sleepless night and Lewis. When you weren’t sipping mixed drinks in your rocking lounger, you were enthralled in conversation with Daniel. Though you’d known him through Lewis for a while and knew he was a cool guy, you didn’t know very much else about him. You sat talking about everything under the sun constantly switching from topic to topic never once succumbing to boredom or uncomfortable silences. He was funny, intelligent, fun and actually pretty damn hot.

Who would have known that underneath those racing jumpsuits laid a six pack God with curly hair and a killer smile? You openly checked him out and whenever you frolicked in the water you caught him openly returning the favor. It was all in the name of fun and carefreeness and by the time the sun was beginning to roll behind the waves you were thoroughly relaxed. You and Daniel walked back inside the villa laughing together still covered in the salt of the ocean.

“You’re fun,” Daniel declared.

“Of course I am. I’ve said it before I’m the life of the party around here. Anyone tells you different they’re full of shit.”

He laughed again as you turned the corner and found everyone lounging in the large TV room.

“There they are. My god. I felt like I was on Love Island waiting for my turn to accost Y/N away,” Gisella teased.

“Shut up.”

“You guys sure look cozy, like tonight will be interesting,” Nikki insinuated wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

You rolled your eyes and perched on the arm of the couch nearest Gisella. “What’re we doing for dinner, I’m starving.”

“Lew ordered a whole spread, they’re setting up now,” Mabdulle informed.

“Cool. Then I’m gonna shower wash off this salt,” you said,

“And other substances,” Gisella said with a wink.

You knew what she was insinuating, and you didn’t want to give her fuel Especially since you could feel Lewis’ eyes on you taking special interest in the prospects of this conversation. You knew why. He and Daniel were friends and crossing that line with someone in his immediate friend circle was messy. He’d never once entertained anyone you mutually knew, never once even attempted to flirt either. It was an unspoken rule between you.

“Thank you for a great beach day, Daniel.”

He smiled widely and bowed his head like the perfect gentleman. “My pleasure.”

You walked toward the room that was once Nikki’s and was now yours since you’d switched. Once you walked inside, the place you’d left your suitcases was taken by suitcases that weren’t yours. You knew they were Nikki’s. Attached to the top of one, you saw a note.

Truce. I only booked this place for you because you were so upset you missed the first Africa trip. I saw the photo from the room you were in and knew instantly it would help you write. There’s no point to any of this if you switch. So, truce.

After rolling your eyes, you read it a second time then sighed softly. If one thing was certain it was that Lewis could be infuriating. You were always going back and forth with annoying each other. There were times you both needed days to cool down from your verbal altercations. Your friends always joked that both your passion levels matched one another and would make for a good sex. You saw the flip side where it could lead to the very opposite. You always felt like you and Lewis’ relationship could go anywhere on the spectrum it just depended on the mood of the day.

You walked back to the room you’d had last night and found your things neatly in the corner waiting for you. You had half a mind to immaturely stomp them back to Nikki’s room like a petulant child just to see if he’d leap up and drag them back, but you fought the impulse. Part of you believed he would definitely out petty you tonight. Shaking your head, you proceeded to get your things for that nice, hot shower you were looking forward to.

By the time you made it back out to the tv room, you heard uproarious laughter coming from the dining area that was set up on the beach. The breeze was soft, and it carried the scent of the delicious food you were more than ready to stuff your face with. Lewis was the first to see you. his eyes drank you in, slowly roaming over your body like were a classic painting and he was the appraiser determined to pinpoint your value. Your flesh heated from the intensity of his gaze making you slightly uncomfortable. The discomfort wasn’t from his eyes on you though, it was from the lack of expression to his face.

You couldn’t read him at all and that was a first for you. Thanks to your years of friendship both as preteens and again as adults when you found each other again, you could read him easier than others. You often communicated nonverbally. He’d give you a look and you’d return it having a conversation and formulating a plan in under a minute. Now, you couldn’t get anything. When you got to the table, it was Daniel who pulled your chair out though it was on the opposite side of the table from him. Lewis watched the whole thing happen and when Daniel leaned down to whisper how beautiful you looked, you knew Lewis saw it too.

Dinner was slightly tense but uneventful. Drinks flowed and the food kept everyone mostly focused there. Everyone was broken off into mini conversations that combined every once in a while. Once dinner was over, Gisella, and Nikki took lead bringing you all to a circular fire pit that was quite impressive. On the large stone table there were at least fifteen bottles of alcohol waiting. Everyone spoke at once, clearly shocked.

“Who’s drinking all of this?”

“Please, we know you can guzzle it all, Miles!”

You snorted. Every time he was called out, he always made such an exaggerated face like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“What is all this?”

You took a seat and instantly reached for one of the white wine bottles to pour yourself a glass.

“We knew it would be you taking the first glass,” Miles called out.

You raised your glass that was filled to the brim at him and took a hearty sip. Wine was your friend, and no one could tear you apart.

“Cassie, Robin, Nikki and I thought it was a good time to increase our fun.

“How?”

Cassie stood with a wide smile on her face, “Truth or Dare.”

Everyone exclaimed all at once. Some groaned in annoyance, some clapped and cheered, and others just laughed. You rolled your eyes and kept nursing your drink. You weren’t surprised. It seemed when grown ass adults got together truth or dare was the only obvious choice. Slowly, everyone quieted down, but no one protested. A few eyes fells to you but you ignored them and refilled your now empty glass.

“All right, the life of the party is down,” Mabdulle confirmed.

“What are the rules?”

Nikki snorted at Lewis’ question.

“Simple, anything goes. We’re all grown ass adults. Do you boo.”

Oh boy you thought taking a mouthful of the sweet wine. You knew it was going to creep up on you in a few—it always did. You hadn’t decided if you cared or not yet. Robin was the one to start things off directing her first question to Mabdulle. He of course picked truth.

“Is it true that you love me more than your boys?”

They all made a buzzer sound as if they knew Mabdulle was going to shut that down.

“Hell yeah, it’s true. I love my baby, fuck these fools.”

Once he said it Lewis, Daniel, Miles and Andrew all looked shocked as Mabdulle kissed on Robin who gave his friends a cocky grin.

“That’s fucked up. It’s like that?”

“Fool you ain’t fuckin me and suckin my dick.”

They all lost it then protesting his choice of words. You knew that if the choice came down to it, Mabdulle would have a hard ass time choosing between his boys since back in the day and Robin. He’d probably try to pick them all. He was that much of a sweetheart.

“All right this one’s for Lew, truth or dare?”

He looked half bored. “Truth.”

“How many times this season did you want to rock Vansteppan’s shit?

Everyone busted out laughing then, even Daniel who always tried to be diplomatic. Lewis smirked and took a sip from his glass of dark liquor.

“More times than he could handle.”

You smirked on the rim of your glass because you’d come close to running onto the track and straight up drop kicking him once he’d gotten out his car. Lewis had to stop you several times.

“Yo, Y/N came so close. I swear when she slipped away without no one knowing that one time I heard those Kill Bill alarms and knew shit was bout to go down,” Miles recounted.

“Yeees. One minute she was there, the next she was halfway across the room,” Lewis’ best friend Daniel piped up.

“If I had been two seconds slower, she would have broken his jaw,” Lewis added.

“In the words of 50, if you got a glass jaw you should watch your mouth cause I’ll break your face,” you said.

Everyone laughed loud again as you shrugged. They thought you were kidding. You weren’t. From the look on Lewis’ face, he also knew you were bout it, bout it.

“Like he has no reason to be so confidant looking like a whole blind mole rat. Uggh so unattractive,” you ranted.

“So, you don’t think he’s attractive?”

“Fuck no. He’s as attractive as a tree with peeling bark and dripping sap,” you said rolling your eyes.

They continued to laugh. “Fuck that, he’s as attractive as Candyman,” you added.

“Hol up, Candyman? Which one cause you definitely not talking about Yahya’s fine ass,” Gisella said.

“Oh hell no, not Yahya’s fine and hung ass,” you agreed.

All the ladies squealed and laughed knowing just what you meant and wholeheartedly agreeing. The game continued and slowly you found yourself unwinding and getting real loose. When the warmup round of truths passed the dares got interesting. Nikki got the first raunchy dare to run around the pit in her underwear and in true Nikki fashion she did not disappoint. The dares just kept rolling one after the other at that point. However, when it came to your turn you switched it up.

“Truth.”

Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes as if fed up with you.

“It’s all good. I got her,” Miles began smiling like he was about to fuck your whole world up. He rubbed his hands together and you were sure he was sure he was about to drop the best mixtape in history.

“Out of anal, public sex and a threesome which would you say hard pass to?”

There were a few snorts and gasps around the group, but you rolled your eyes because he thought this was really going to be uncomfortable for you.

“None of the above.”

No one spoke for several moments. They kept their widened eyes on you seemingly waiting for you to clarify or continue.

“Moving on,” you added.

“Uh—no!”

“What do you mean none?”

You looked around the group, skimming your eyes past Lewis who wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were planted across the way.

“I said what I said and meant what I said and none of you need clarification on what I said because it’s nonya!”

They really lost their shit then, but you didn’t care. You proceeded to ask Justice to choose, and delight hit you when she chose dare. You were about to show you were the pettiest of all in the land. You hurried into the villa and came back with a banana then handed it to her.

“For the next two minutes, show us your technique.”

She looked shocked then as she hesitated with the banana in hand.

“What?”

“We’re all consenting adults secure in our abilities or—short comings. I dare you to show us your technique and we’ll rate you.”

“Why you so interested? Tryna pick up some tips, Y/N?”

Your eyebrow shot up fully getting her hidden meaning and catching the bitch in her tone. You didn’t doubt that once you’d walked away from Lewis earlier that she’d badgered him over what you were talking about and why he’d held on to you so long. You didn’t doubt that the green monster was attacking her now. It was common with anyone he brought around the friend group. Nikki’s theory was that they all picked up on something that no one wanted to acknowledge, and it made them territorial.

You cocked your head to the side, “Tips? Nah, I’m good, but you did agree to this game, and you did choose dare. You can refuse and take your punishment. Choice is yours.

You watched the uncertainty on her face but the glare of hate she sent your way shocked you. You’d done nothing to this girl.

“Okay.”

Justice peeled the banana, which slightly looked to be in the eight-to-nine-inch range, then she paused taking a breath.

“We won’t judge you girl. Pretend it’s Lewis’,” Gisella encouraged making most around the circle snort.

You on the other hand, hid your amusement behind your glass. Justice began by raking her front teeth over the tip leaving indentations in the flesh of the banana. All the men sucked in a hiss of pain with some of them crossing their legs. That didn’t stop her though, she then clumsily swirled her tongue around the tip of the banana and down a few inches until she awkwardly wrapped her lips around it. When the imprint of the banana pressed against her cheek a few grumbles erupted through the group. You peeped around fighting the confusion in you. Everyone looked to either be just as confused or bored.

Before you looked back at her, your eyes met Lewis’. He was watching you like you were the show instead of his chosen flavor of the month. By the look on his face, you knew you’d done this on purpose. He didn’t look bothered though, he looked amused by your pettiness. You looked back Justice in time to see her accidentally bite off a piece of the banana.

“Oops.”

“And time,” Andrew shouted avoiding her eyes.

“It’s weird to do that to a banana so take that into consideration,” Justice defended.

Everyone exchanged looks trying to gauge who was going to deliver the critique. Little did they know, you weren’t done with your pettiness.

“I think the best person to deliver the critique consensus is Lewis,” you said.

“And I oop,” Cassie said just as she took a few gulps from her glass.

“Me?”

“Yep. I mean you’d know all about her technique. Right?”

He stared you down challenging you. It was a challenge you didn’t back down from.

“I agree,” Nikki said.

Lewis emptied his glass then spoke, “Out of ten let’s say—a five.”

Justice gasped, clearly offended.

“A five? Lewis!”

“It’s all good. It’s a banana as you said. A cock isn’t a banana.”

You snorted and averted your eyes when you felt them both look at you.

“Maybe you should show us how it’s done,” Lewis suggested.

All eyes landed on you, but you didn’t entertain it. “Not my turn.”

“Conveniently,” Lewis muttered as he refilled his glass.

The dares continued and it was like your dare set everything that was raunchy and nasty off. Miles and Gisella ended up exchanging lap dances, Nikki ended up showing off her best twerk which began a twerking competition between her and Justice which surprisingly ended in a tie. The girl couldn’t suck a dick, but she could shake her ass, maybe that was what kept Lewis around. With Daniel’s turn he ended up having to take a tequila shot off of you. Rather than putting the salt on your hand Nikki opted putting it right at the crook of your neck, one of your most sensitive spots. When she did her reasoning became clear.

“No man friend or not likes to see the woman he wants being licked by another man,” she whispered winking at you then Gisella.

These two were trying to set your ass up and were playing with fire. Daniel looked sheepish as he approached you with the doubt shot of tequila in his hand. his eyes asked the question his lips hadn’t. You smiled and angled your neck giving him access. With the way your neck was angled you were able to look directly at Lewis. The scene had his undivided attention. Daniel knocked back his drink and lowered his lips to your neck. The tip of his tongue slowly trailed along the salt path and the suddenness made you bite your bottom lip. When the thick pad of his tongue came into play, he sucked, and you had to pinch your lips to conceal the small moan. Lewis’ jaw clenched as he looked away. Daniel bowed his gratitude to you then sat back down.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Again!”

“What does it matter? My god, are y’all trying set me up or something?!”

“For someone who is the life of the party you sure are boring tonight,” Lewis challenged.

You smirked. “Fine. Dare.”

“Pull up your last sexy thirst trap selfie and pass it around for everyone to see.”

You immediately began laughing. “So sorry, I don’t take thirst traps.”

“Liar!”

“Really Gisella. Gonna shout me out and everything!?”

“I’m sorry boo, we all know that’s a lie. Everyone here has read your books; we know what goes on in your head.”

You busted out laughing. “Fine.”

Pulling out your phone you scrolled through your gallery and easily found the picture but hesitated when you realized how revealing it was. You then scrolled past it in search of another.

“I’ll do it,” Robin said coming over to you and taking your phone. You groaned.

“Damn, Y/N. You were gonna pass this weren’t you?”

You pinched your lips and looked away.

“If you’re not comfortable I’ll find a different one.”

You loved Robin. “This is why I’ll forever love you Robin, but it’s cool. Give the vultures what they want.”

Robin snorted then handed it to Nikki who was beside you. She smiled widely then gave you her thumbs up of approval before she passed it to Daniel beside her. His eyebrows shot up then his Adams apple bobbed making Nikki snicker. He passed it along to Justice who rolled her eyes and passed it to Lewis. When he looked at it, his head cocked to the right, then the left. Justice must have expected him to barely look at it before he passed it on but after a while fifteen seconds, he was still staring at it.

“Ehhh-emmm!”

All eyes went to Justice who crossed her arms and stared at Lewis. Though his expression gave nothing away the fact he was still looking sent your stomach into your throat. When he passed it on, he guzzled the rest of his drink. Of course, when it got to Miles, he had to make a huge commotion.

“Damn, Y/N. There’s a thirst trap and then there’s this. Bruv, this is risk it all material.”

Everyone laughed and told him to shut up. It was something everyone often said to him. A few more rounds and it was Lewis’ turn.

“Dare.”

“Grab a marker and draw a tattoo of your choice on Y/N’s ass.”

Your jaw dropped at Miles’ dare.

“Wait what? Why me?”

He shrugged. “First person I thought of.”

“You ass!”

“No, your ass,” he countered with a wide grin.

Lewis stood and grabbed the black sharpie on the table and walked over to you.

“You expect me to what show you all my ass cheek?”

“We’ve seen it before,” Andrew blasted.

“If you’re so shy then to inside,” Mabdulle suggested.

No one spoke up, no one even attempted to get you out of this. Resigning yourself to your fate, you pouted and stomped your way to the villa. A few moments later, Lewis came in behind you. his eyes were glossed over, facial features relaxed and a comfortable vibe emitting from him.

“Bend over for me, kitten.”

Five little words and your panties were soaked. What the fuck is this? When you didn’t comply or speak, he licked his lips, and your mouth went dry. What is life right now?

“Want me on my knees instead?”

A visual of him on his knees behind you with his mouth on you had you staggering back into the wall. Lewis cocked his head to the side and studied you.

“What am I seeing right now? Fear? Or is it something else maybe--.”

Before he could continue, you turned away from him and bit your bottom lip. If he continued looking, he’d see right through you. His steps were slow as he approached you. He didn’t touch you though and the longer he didn’t the more the puddle between your legs increased. Soon you knew you’d begin dripping onto your thigh.

“Poke that ass out for me, kitten.”

Obeying, you bent low enough that he could get enough access. Your cheek pressed against the cold wall offering you some cool to alleviate the heat you were now engulfed in. Lewis slowly moved the gauze like material of your dress using the high thigh slits as his opening to gather the material just at the top of your ass. You heard him suck in a breath as he hesitated. A long moment passed where neither of you spoke or moved, you just remained suspended in uncertainty and a weird mixture of arousal and confusion.

“I should mark you so everyone knows what you are. A petty petty brat.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He scoffed, “Naw, I have something better. I’m gonna put the only thing you should ever have on you.”

You felt the press of the marker against your skin and Lewis’ hand right atop the spot he was writing on. You tried to focus on what he was writing but the knowledge he had his hand on your bare ass was sending you over the edge and you needed to concentrate so you didn’t cum right then and there and give yourself away. This was not what friends were for.

As soon as he started, he stopped. “All done.”

“What is it?”

“Go look,” he replied with a wink before he walked back out. You walked to the nearest bathroom ignoring the slickness between your legs then turned your back to the full-length mirror. As clear as day and easily read was his name across your ass cheek. His words echoed in your head.

“I’m gonna put the only thing you should ever have on you.”

Lord have mercy, you thought as you slouched over trying to compose yourself. When you went back out to everyone their eyes followed you as you tried to play everything off.

“What’s the tattoo?”

“Doesn’t matter. Whose turn?”

Everyone looked around at each other silently speaking because Lewis’ best friend Daniel spoke. “Y/N truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Leave the room. We’re all going to pour a shot. When you come back, choose one. Whosever shot you choose you have to try to turn them on in 2 minutes. You win if the other person laughs or taps out first, you lose if you laugh or tap out first. If you lose, you have to sit on that person’s lap for the rest of the round until it’s your turn again.”

“Well damn Daniel.

“My baby is good at everything he does,” Cassie said while kissing on him.

Without a word you walked inside the villa and grabbed a bottle of water hoping to flush some of the alcohol in your system. That had to be the reason you were behaving so out of character. As you waited, you couldn’t stop thinking about what Lewis said and the fact you now wore his name in sharpie on your ass. It would be there for at least a few days which meant for the next few days you’d be stuck with this memory unable to tuck it away into the box of never to be touched again things.

“Y/N!”

You took a few breathes then walked back out. On the stone table there were twelve drinks laid out for you.

“Choose your destiny!”

You snorted and surveyed your options. There was no way for you to guess who’d poured what, so it made no sense to carefully go through them and assess the options. Without thought, you reached for the one that was the most out of character choice for you, the clear glass that smelled like lemons. As soon as you knocked it back, you tasted the lemon and the harsh burn of Vodka.

“Eeck!”

“Vodka, I hate vodka and lemons. Who did this?”

All eyes turned to Lewis who looked amused as hell.

“Why’d you pick something you hated?”

“It be your own people,” you began making everyone laugh around you. “Why, Brutus?”

Lewis smirked, “Strategy.”

You took another shot to wash the taste out your mouth and moaned at the cherry flavor. “This is much better.”

You groaned walking over to Lewis taking the seat on his left side which Cassie gave up for you.

“Your two minutes start now.”

“Wait, how am I supposed to turn him on?”

“It’s easy for me,” Justice slid in.

You snorted and looked at her. “Is it, are you sure?”

She rolled her eyes again at you and you were two seconds away from smacking her.

“You’re a grown ass woman. Tap into your writing skills, you got this,” Cassie said.

You took another shot then sat back down. “Okay. Wait, do I have to speak so you hear?”

“Nope.”

You leaned into Lewis’ ear then whispered.

“I’ve been a bad girl and I deserve a spanking.”

Lewis reared back and looked at you with his eyebrows raised. After a few moments, he came back. You allowed your lip to brush against the shell of his ear and continued. “You should use that big hand and slap my ass until I’m whimpering and screaming your name begging you to make it better, make me wetter.”

You heard he take in a harsh deep breath but didn’t know what it meant.

“You asked me earlier if I want you on your knees and the answer is yes. I want you on your knees behind me with your hands spreading my ass, on your knees in front of me while I use your tongue. I want to use your face as my throne while you worship this pussy like the queen I am.”

From your angle you saw him squeeze his knee while the other hand was balled tight.

“Does that sound good? Do you want it as bad as I want it? Do you want to hear me say your name while I cum on your tongue? Do you daddy?”

Lewis’ head began to move but that was where you lost your shit. You snorted and kneeled over laughing your ass off. It was the daddy that had put you in the ground. You were managing fairly well on the string you were hanging on, but that one word made it impossible to remain in character reciting the words of one of your characters in your previous book.

“I’m sorry—I just—I can’t—oh my god. fuck!”

“And Y/N loses,” Daniel announced.

“How the fuck did you not laugh?”

Lewis didn’t look amused at all. His jaw was tight, his eyes trained to the ground, his fists balled tighter than a newborn’s, and his shoulders tensed.

“You okay?”

He nodded but he still didn’t look at you.

“Take your punishment.”

You sighed then went to his right side and sat across his lap. The instant you sat you, felt it. He was as hard as granite. You sprang right back up snapping your head to him.

“I’m just as fucking shocked as you,” he muttered.

Lewis pulled you down back onto his lap holding you still. You weren’t on top of his length but you from your angle, you still felt it pressing against your hip. Your head immediately went bye-bye. Following the game was impossible because all you could think about was the fact that you’d just actually turned him on, you’re actually managed to do it. He was solid hard right now because of you and the way he was pressing against You was sending your head to one place—the gutter.

Biting your bottom lip, you chanced a glance at him. His eyes were focused on something, but it wasn’t you or the game going on around you. His entire body was tense. Long gone was the man who was always at ease with you. The man who no matter what joke you ran with each other remained unphased. This was definitely not the same Lewis. As if sensing your thoughts, his eyes met yours and you remained locked in his gaze.

You searched his eyes for an answer, or an explanation to this predicament. You were in uncharted waters, and you didn’t know how to act at all. His eyes dipped to your lips and the attention made you suck your bottom one in and in response he did the same. A swarm of butterflies took flight in your gut and your alarms went off.

“This is bullshit Lewis!”

Journey stood and stomped off leaving everyone to watch as she left. You stood and averted your eyes while stepping as far away from him as you could. Lewis sighed, then stood and followed where Journey walked. The rest of your friends whispered amongst themselves, each speculating what the problem was. You didn’t care, you had more than enough to think and speculate over.

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{Final Part To Come}

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