#i was starting out in a higher position back at the start of the year. but really freshly starting out. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Women make up for the other 50% of Tumblr’s audience.

#i was starting out in a higher position back at the start of the year. but really freshly starting out.

daniel-nerd · 3 days

Text

when everyone is talking about rafah, and israel passing a law allowing them to ban al jazeera, and then immediately enacting on it. here are some numbers, compiled nicely into 2 graphs

the first graph, is the SCORE reporters without borders(RSF) gave to Israel, USA, and Russia, in their world press freedom index. (higher is better)

as you can see. there is a pretty big drop between 2021 and 2022, lets talk about that

In May of 2021 Israel had a military operation in gaza. on top of that, in march of 2021 israel had the 4th election since 2019, where the Likud got 24.19% of the votes, and Naftali bennett managing to form a coalition, making him the prime minister, ending the strike of netanyahu, which was the prime minister since february pf 2009, the coalition survived until November of 2022, where israel had the 5th election since 2019, the election that formed today’s government of israel, with netanyahu back as prime minister, the coalition is also known as the most extreme right wing government israel saw in years, if not in the entire history of Israel.

the next graph shows the POSITION of each country in the RSF world press freedom index(lower is better)

as you can see, israel slowly started to go downwards to a freer place, with better freedom of press, until 2022 when the current government formed. and haven’t shown any signs of slowing down the suppression of the press.

in 2020: 51 journalists were killed worldwide

in 2021: 48 journalists were killed worldwide

in 2022: 57 journalists were killed worldwide

in 2023: 45 journalists were killed worldwide, the lowest since 2002!!

since October 7th over 105 journalists were killed in gaza alone. easily getting us to triple digits, something that we haven’t seen in over a decade.

currently, any website of Al jazeera except ajplus is banned and blocked in israel. (I have no idea why ajplus wasn’t blocked, but I also haven’t looked around the website, i only found out it was a thing thanks to wikipedia)

changing your DNS server to openDNS seems to bypass the ban,

using VPN seems to bypass the ban,

using the tor browser (obviously) seems to bypass the ban.

I haven’t checked google’s DNS servers but it will probably bypass the ban too.

this post is all over the place, but CHANGE YOUR DEFAULT DNS SERVER

it is very easy! i use OpenDNS, they have great tutorials explaining how to change your DNS. and it WILL bypass most of the blocked sites if your country ever try to block a site.

#israel #palestine #al jazeera #RSF #reporters without borders #world press freedom day #world press freedom index #israel ban of journalism #gaza #all eyes on rafah #rafah

35 notes · View notes

thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Bringing in the new year with Simon.

Just a little something to tide us over till tomorrow. 😉

5…4…3…2…1… Happy New Year!

The television blasted out the sounds of the happy, cheering gathering of people while boisterous music played behind them just as the clock struck midnight. Two long-stemmed glasses filled with cheap champagne sat bubbling on the crowded coffee table, untouched. Even right outside the window the sounds of celebrating could be heard as people took to the streets to spread their joy through the cold night. And yet everything was completely forgotten and faded into the background as the two people sitting on the couch became lost in one another.

Simon's large hands were wrapped around your delicate cheeks, pulling your face tight against him as heated, moist lips captured yours over and over without a single thought to what was happening outside the space between you both. All he could comprehend in that moment, all that he cared about, was the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body, the soft touches from your fingertips grazing over bare skin that made his mind fuzzy.

He had gotten a little too eager, started the celebration a little too soon, as it was the first year he wasn't stuck in the barracks alone and isolated as those all around him celebrated with those that meant something to them. Now he was with someone who he cared about more than anything in this world and so things had already gotten ahead of themselves… not that either of your minded.

Eyes staying closed, he grabbed your hands within his, lacing his fingers into the empty space between yours, and gave them a tug in a silent request to move in closer. Carefully, with mouths still connected, he helped to situate you over top of his broad lap so that you were comfortable. Straddling his thick thighs between your legs, knees shoved into the couch cushions on either side, you wrapped your arms around his neck as your fingers sought to play with the short strands of hair at the back of his head.

Your touch was met with a deep-throated moan from him, causing his hands to reach behind you so that his palms could fill themselves with as much of your ass as he could hold between them through the fabric of your dress, massaging that voluptuous curvature in slow, circular motions as he pushed down to guide your hips to gently grind against him. The scant fabric at the crotch of your panties meant that you could feel him press up into you the longer you moved, that bulge growing steadily since he first pulled you into his kiss.

His exploring mouth began to travel down from your lips to your jaw and then on to your neck where he nuzzled into the crook of it as he latched on. Sharp teeth nibbled at the tender flesh at the base of your neck, quick bites that had you tingling from head to toe.

A loud group outside shouted and laughed, which caught your attention and drew you back into the reality outside of Simon’s body. “I think we missed it,” you moaned breathlessly into the room as his lips sent another wave of pleasure rolling straight through you. “It’s already past midnight.”

“Didn’t miss a fuckin’ thing, sweetheart,” he groaned as his hands roamed up a little higher to secure themselves around your waist. “This is the only way I wanna bring in the new year.”

Minutes passed by wholly ignored as if time itself had stopped while large hands pawed at your lap as your hips rolled over top of him. The friction was divine and mixed with the overwhelming feeling of your lips embracing his own and it wasn’t long until it felt like his entire body was on fire.

Suddenly you felt Simon shift beneath you and all at once your body being shoved back down onto the cushions as he loomed over top, crushing your body into the surface as he positioned himself in between your legs.

Your lips were left cold as he broke the kiss to sit back on his calves as calloused digits pushed the bottom hem of your dress up to your waist, leaving your hips exposed with nothing but a small bit of underwear to cover them. His breath got caught in his throat for a moment as he took in all that beautiful, warm skin, the flush of your cheeks, the swollenness of your lips.

His angel heaven sent.

There was a saying Simon had heard that said what you did on the first day of the new year dictated how it would go throughout the rest and though he didn't believe in old wives tales, he wasn't about to jinx a good thing. He wanted the next 12 months to be filled to the brim with moments like this.

“Let’s start this year off right, yeah pretty girl?” he smirked as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties to slide them down your tights and right off your legs.

“With a bang.”

4K notes · View notes

sahkuna · 23 days

Text

needed to write a drabble about sukuna being that hot older brother you always look forward to seeing at your best friend’s (yuuji) house... eee!

UPDATE: there’s a FOLLOW UP to this drabble

content warning: f! reader, smut, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope! oh and modern au:]

he’s only a couple years older than you, (by three years, if you want to be exact) and you’ve been acquainted with itadori yuuji's older brother— sukuna— multiple times.

whether it was through seeing him over at the itadori household during high school or being invited out by yuuji to sukuna’s new place a couple years after college— sukuna had always been a lingering presence in your life.

your relationship hadn’t been anything more than exchanging brief pleasantries whenever needed. until things start growing more suggestive as the two of you grew older.

it wasn't planned. the kissing, the meet-ups late at night, him deliberately lingering around when everyone else seems to have left the room. there were too many incidents to recall.

but one thing lead to the next and...

the slapping of skin on skin can be heard throughout his apartment, echoing against the walls of the vacant hallway that leads towards the doorway of sukuna's apartment.

tucked away behind his bedroom door, is quite an obscene scene. with your chest pressed against his mattress and face covered deep into his pillows, there's only so much left for you to do as you stick your ass up to receive the rough pounding from sukuna's thick cock.

the coherent sentences you used to form a few moments prior have slowly turned into a series of whimpers and broken moans all while sukuna has a tight grip on your waist pulling your ass flush against his hips so he can bury himself deep into your sweet cunt— unprotected.

you forgot how this came to be, of who convinced who to dip their toes into the world of sex with each other but you're damn glad that it happened.

"oh god," you blurt out between cries. sukuna's left hand drags down away from your waist, and finds its way toward your clit. "ah—! please, don't stop! that's… so good, so goo—ah!" you just about lose your mind when his fingers tease your sensitive clit in slow, torturous circles.

there's a mean, wicked smile tugging at the corner of sukuna's lips. his brows rise in amusement at how quick you are to fall apart in his hands— quite literally at that, too. "think you can hurry up and finish before your friend comes back?" sukuna asks, tone unwavering despite how his hips thrust into you repeatedly.

ah. your friend. his brother. the fact that he doesn't even bother to address him by name and does it dismissively would have you chiding him to be nice— but you're too far gone to digest what he said.

between the touching and the fullness of his dick pressing and rubbing against the walls of your pussy, you squeeze your eyes shut and wail. "please, please— i think i'm—!" your hand shoots down to hold onto his wrist. but you don't pull it away from you, despite how overstimulated you feel. "shit!"

when sukuna pulls out briefly to rub the head of his cock against your slit, you whine at the loss of him. with shaky hands you press your palms against his mattress, and make a weak attempt to change positions onto your back.

"please, put it back in!" he's definitely gonna make fun of you for begging later. but perhaps a higher power decided to have mercy on you— just this once— because sukuna's back between your thighs and stretching your hole.

fuck him, fuck him, fuck him and his stupid, girthy cock. and the smug ass expression he's probably got on his face right now.

despite that all, you wanted to kiss him. just the thought of it was—

the harsh sound of a fist pounding at his front door tears you from your thoughts. you're about to question who it is until you hear a voice from the other side that you know all too well.

"answer your phone, sukuna!" wait, why's yuuji here? "if you're gonna invite me to your place, at least do it when you don't have some girl over!"

"are you crazy?!" your voice is sharp, incredulity seeps through your tone.

with his dick still submerged in you and his hips rolling at a languid pace tacked with the sound of the gentle plap-ing of his skin against yours, — as if his fucking brother wasn't technically right the fuck there— he offers you a mere shrug. "forgot i invited him over."

and fuck him for being your best friend's older brother.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #jjk smut #bfb sukuna #hopefully this shows <333 #TUMBLR STOP HIDING MY STUFF

872 notes · View notes

makoodles · 1 year

Text

ミdaddy issues

part one | part two

🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader

🍓tags: nsfw, interspecies relationship, temporarily one-sided attraction, second-hand embarrassment, vaginal sex, oral sex, (v brief) anal fingering, dirty talk (it's quaritch, come on)

🍓word count: 14k (there's literally nothing i could say to excuse this)

masterlist

Miles Quaritch is the kind of man whose reputation precedes him.

Everyone has heard of him. His ruthlessness and his skill are legendary, his authority absolute. The army guys talk about him like he’s the stuff of myth, the scientists talk about him like he’s the biggest bastard to ever walk the earth. Even before he had returned to life as a recombinant, he was positively infamous. Now though, his return has raised his reputation to near mythological status.

But it’s not just his name and reputation that is known around Bridgehead City. Recently, your crush on him has become equally as infamous.

It’s not your fault. It's not like you’re trying to make it obvious. The man is just so damn fine, blue or not. In the beginning, all you do is appreciate his form from a distance. It’s not like you see him all that often, anyway, so your admiration is mostly contained to quick glances in corridors and across the mess hall, whenever you spot him talking with his squad or walking with any of the higher ups.

It’s perfectly innocent! There’s nothing wrong with having a little crush on someone that will never notice you, after all.

The problem is that your crush, while innocuous, isn’t exactly subtle.

“Quaritch, huh?” It’s Anjali that asks, an older, pretty microbiologist with a sometimes off-puttingly blunt manner.

You pause, but don’t look up from the microscope you’ve been peering into. For a moment, you consider denying it. But what’s the point? If she’s asking, that means that she’s already noticed your shy, flustered glances in the colonel’s direction.

“Yeah,” You sigh, a little defeated. “I guess.”

Because you’re so focused on the plant specimen you’re studying, you don’t notice the way all the others in the lab start looking over, clearly eavesdropping. If you had, you might have backtracked – maybe you would have downplayed your embarrassing little crush.

“He’s just...” You fiddle with the glass slide beneath the lens, still fighting not to make eye-contact with Anjali. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

Anjali snorts. She’s an older lady, with her grey-streaked hair scraped back into a severe bun, accentuating her harsh appearance. She’s working on her own report one desk over from you, but you can still see the way that she’s peering over her glasses at you.

“Is he?” She asks archly. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t see around his enormous sense of entitlement.”

You laugh a little awkwardly, and duck your head back down. God, you don’t know how else you expected that conversation to go. Everyone knows that Quaritch’s overzealous attempts to exert control over Pandora was what caused the whole war and resulted in the human population being forced off-planet all those years ago. Damn, you know that too!

But it’s not as though you like him as a person or anything! He’s not even really the same man as the one that did all that. Your fascination with him is really just… aesthetic appreciation.

“I just think he’s attractive, you know?” You mumble, embarrassed. “I don’t know what he was like as a human, but… I don’t know. There’s something about the- the height, and the muscles-”

“Oh, spare me.” Anjali mumbles sourly.

“You asked!” You snap, mortified. “I’m just saying-!”

That’s when another voice cuts in.

“He could break you in half with his pinkie finger.” Dr. Geiszler points out from a desk behind you. He’s not even trying to pretend that he’s not listening in, leaning right over his workspace as he eavesdrops.

Your eyes widen a little, and for the first time you realise that nearly everyone else in the laboratory has been listening in the whole time. Your face grows hot with humiliation, and you shrink a little in your stool. Oh fuck, why did they all look so interested?

Geiszler watches your reaction, and then his face slackens in an expression of realisation. “Oh shit, you’re into that.”

You genuinely can’t think of anything more humiliating right now. They’re all looking at you as though you’ve just grown an additional head.

“Oh, fuck off!” You say reflexively, scowling at them all. “You can’t pretend like you haven’t ever thought that the Na’vi are sexy!”

Anjali looks as though she’s just sucked on a lemon, but several other scientists start shiftily avoiding eye contact.

Geiszler just snorts. “That’s different. We’re not talking about just any Na’vi here, we’re talking about Quaritch!”

“He’s old enough to be your father.” Anjali points out, clearly disapproving. “Maybe even your grandfather.”

“So?” You say without thinking, before realising that this isn’t really an argument that you want to get into. “I mean- Not in his current body! No, fuck, I don’t mean- fuck. Look, can we just forget about this? Pretend I never said anything!”

Mercifully, they go silent at that, though you can still hear the faint sound of someone snickering in the back of the lab. They may not say anything more, but you’re all too aware that they’re still looking at each other and smirking. Laughing at you.

You hunch your shoulders and keep doing your work. You wouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty over something as stupid as a harmless little crush that you can’t control. You wouldn’t.

Bridgehead really isn’t all that big, so you see the colonel semi-regularly. It’s always from a distance, but it’s still enough to give you a good look at those long legs, those big muscles, and that lithe, narrow waist. If you’re truthful with yourself, you go out of your way to organise your paths crossing.

You’re not even a fully-qualified scientist just yet. You don’t actually have an official title – you’re more like an intern. You work under the highly decorated scholars in xenobotany, running tasks and projects for them as part of your doctorate degree. You had been allowed out here to Pandora as part of your degree, in order to get the experience you needed to qualify, and it has treated you well so far. The whole internship position means that you have a little bit more freedom with regards your schedule, which works just perfectly for you.

So, yeah. What started out as innocent admiration has turned a little… stalkery. You’re willing to admit that. But it’s harmless!

So what if you know Colonel Quaritch’s schedule off by heart? So what if you linger around the areas that you know he frequents at opportune moments, like just after his workouts or drills? It doesn’t really matter if your eyes linger around his big biceps and his sculpted chest, especially when his deep blue skin is all heat-flushed and sweaty, right? And it surely doesn’t matter if you wander past the Recombinant areas of the base far more frequently than you need to, right? It’s not as if anyone is going to notice.

It doesn’t really matter how much you stare, because the colonel is utterly oblivious to your attention. He never notices you, not even once. And that’s fine too, you tell yourself. It makes it easier, in fact! You can admire him all you want if he never looks at you, after all.

It gets a little bit more challenging to hide where your attention is straying when other people start to figure it out.

It’s like your little crush is an inside joke in the science department. The scientists on base tend to be pretty good at minding their own business (mostly because they’re usually so damn focused on their own work and little projects), but in this case you’ve become an endless source of amusement for them.

You can see the way the entire xenobiology department giggle together when you perk up at dinnertime as soon as the Recombinant soldiers enter the mess hall, and you know that they’re nudging each other when your attention strays to the Colonel as he eats. He’s got such sharp teeth, and your eyes fixate on him as he licks the sorry excuse for food he’s been served off his canines.

When you start dressing up a little bit more, the science guys start sharing smirks. It’s a little bit humiliating, but honestly you think you’re starting to lose your sense of shame. You start wearing tight little pencil skirts and thin blouses, under the guise of professionalism, and you start to do your makeup a little bit heavier too. Quaritch never so much as bats an eyelid in your direction.

“Not that I’m complaining, per se,” Geiszler drawls one afternoon, leaning lazily against the worktop as you painstakingly organise tissue samples. “But aren’t you trying a little too hard?”

“Shut up.” You grumble, chewing on your stick lip-glossed lower lip. “It’s just a skirt.”

“Right.” He drawls, eyes trailing down over the length of your body as you shift on your uncomfortable little stool. “And the makeup?”

“It’s not breaking any uniform protocols.” You say simply, scratching just under your eye.

Geiszler sniffs, amused. “Is it true you’ve been following around the xenobiologists when they go to check on the recoms?”

You peer very closely at the tissue sample in your hands, a little more closely than entirely necessary. “Maybe.”

“Jesus.” He lets out a short, disbelieving sort of laugh. “Fuck. Why? D’you get off on being ignored or something?”

That’s a little crass, and you raise your head to scowl at him. He really doesn’t need to rub it in like that – it’s pretty damn obvious that your crush is unrequited. It’s cruel to point it out like that.

“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t notice,” You mutter, aggravated. “I’m just- I just like looking, that’s all.”

Geiszler snorts again, but he appears to be somewhat sympathetic now. “Right. Just looking.”

Finally, you tear your attention away from the samples so you can scowl at him. “What do you want, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I want to put you out of your misery.” He replies simply, leaving his elbows against the worktop and smirking at you. “Recoms are being sent out tomorrow. Just a small run – Ardmore wants to put those new bodies to the test before she sends them out after Sully.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask as though you’re not hanging onto every damn word.

“They’re heading to the lowlands, at the base of the mountains,” Geiszler levels you with a significant look. “You know what that means, right?”

You perk up instantly at that, your eyes growing wide.

“Panopyra.” You breathe.

Your entire damn doctoral dissertation is centred around the unusual, jellyfish-like plants that grow on other Pandoran plants. It hovers somewhere between plant, animal, and fungi, having evolved a primitive sort of nervous system. It grows a cuplike body that collects water from dew and fog and condenses it down into a thick, syrupy sort of liquid. That liquid is then collected by the native Na’vi for use in their healing drinks. It is that medicinal property that fascinates you so much.

“Yeah, I thought that might get your attention.” Geiszler grins. “You’ve run out of the samples you’ve been using, right? You’re not gonna be able to write any more of your thesis without more specimens.”

“Yes,” You breathe, your brain already scrambling to think of all the things you need to do. “I need- oh, I need some cuttings of the sensory tissue, and I need a lot more samples of the internal liquid. The stems, too-”

“Right, right,” Geiszler interrupts, nodding. “The problem is, it’s just the Recoms being sent out. They’re not bringing any of the science team.”

Your shoulders sag a little at that. How are you meant to get a proper sample if there’s no one qualified to take samples going on their reconnaissance trip?

As if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, Geiszler’s smile turns a little sly. “If you want those samples, you’re gonna have to ask the big man in charge of the mission to bring some back for you. And you’re gonna have to ask real nicely.”

Colonel Quaritch’s office is empty when you call at it, and so you’re forced to go searching for him.

You find the recoms in the little recreation room just off the hangar designated for soldier use – Na’vi-sized beanbags had been thrown into it as an afterthought for the recom soldiers, and it’s almost comical to walk in and find so many of them sprawled across the squishy chairs. Some of them have instead decided to squeeze them into the regular armchairs, with one Na’vi-sized body occupying an entire sofa. They’re playing poker of all things; they’ve been provided with a set of over-sized playing cards and everything.

They’re a rowdy bunch, shouting and roaring with laughter, and so they don’t immediately spot you when you edge your way into the room. For a moment, you think that the colonel isn’t here. But then you take another look, and you spot him.

Quaritch is standing to the side, his spine taut and his shoulders back and straight. It’s a very formal position just for watching his squad relax, but there’s a certain softness to his expression as he watches them that you’ve never seen from him before. Your heart skips a beat; this is the most unguarded that you’ve ever seen him, and your eyes fixate on his face eagerly as you try to drink in all the details.

It’s Fike that notices you first.

“Aw, man,” He groans, tilting his head back dramatically before gesturing at you with his cards. “Not another checkup. We told the other doc, if something feels wrong we’ll tell you-”

“Ah, no.” You’re beginning to get flustered. Fike’s exclamation has drawn the attention of the other recoms, and all of a sudden you feel as though you’ve been placed under a spotlight. “I’m- I’m not actually a doctor!”

There’s a very brief pause, and then one of the female soldiers sits up from her beanbag to squint at you. You think this one is Walker.

“Why are you here all the time, then?” She asks. “Weren’t you here for our checkup yesterday?”

Oh. They had noticed. Embarrassed heat is beginning to build in your cheeks, and you can’t help but dart a quick look over at where Quaritch is still leaning against the wall. For the first time ever, he’s looking right at you. The realisation sends little jolts of electricity racing up your spine. His expression is entirely neutral, almost bored, but that doesn’t matter. He’s seeing you.

“I was just, um, shadowing the xenobiologists,” You say quickly, “For my internship.”

One of the other recoms turns to another and mouths 'internship’, and they both start to snicker. You pretend not to notice.

“And what does the intern want with us?” Fike asks, already having turned back to his cards.

It’s terribly embarrassing having to stand here and have these 9-foot-tall soldiers basically look you up and down before disregarding your entire existence. But you’re here now, and you have to push through.

“I’d..” You begin, before your throat goes dry and you have to clear your throat before trying again. “Could I please speak to the colonel?”

All the snickering and whispering dies down for a moment as the recoms look at you before swinging their heads around to look at their superior officer. There’s a moment of silence, but then the subtle sniggers start right back up again.

“So polite,” one of them whispers, and you feel yourself burn with embarrassment. But it doesn’t matter how many of them are sharing smirks or whispers, because Colonel Quaritch has pushed himself off the wall and is beginning to step towards you.

Oh god, he’s so big. You have to actually tilt your head back just to look at his face as he comes to a stop in front of you, and you begin to fidget nervously with your fingers. Up close, he seems so much bigger. Every movement has the skin around his muscles flexing, and you have to work hard not to stare like an absolute moron.

He doesn’t crouch or bend down to make it easier for you to talk to him. Instead he just raises a brow, clearly waiting for you to speak.

“I, um- hello,” You start off clumsily, growing flustered under the weight of his intense, golden gaze. God, does he even realise how intimidating that is? “I was wondering if- I mean, I heard that you’re being sent out into the Pandoran lowlands tomorrow, and I was wondering if you might be able to bring me back something-”

God, you sound like such an idiot. There’s no way he doesn’t notice the way your voice trembles, or how you can’t quite meet his eyes, or how you keep stumbling over your words, but he just watches you evenly with no expression on his handsome face.

You fumble for the datapad that you brought with you, tapping clumsily at the screen before holding it up for him. His eyes dart to the photograph that’s being displayed, but he still doesn’t speak.

“This is panopyra.” You say, and your voice grows a little stronger. This, at least, is something you feel comfortable talking about. “It’s a plant that’s displaying characteristics of a new line of evolution toward a primitive nervous system. My entire dissertation is focused around my research into this plant, and I really need some samples. The body of it is hollow, and it collects a liquid inside-”

Finally, Quaritch speaks.

“We ain’t bein’ sent out to do gardening.” His voice is deep and rumbly, edged with that Southern drawl. It has a hint of danger, even when he’s not actually threatening anything.

“I know!” You say hastily. “I know that. I just thought- I thought that maybe if you happened to see one, you might be able to take a sample of the liquid inside of it and, um… and bring it back.”

You end up trailing off a little pathetically, feeling overpowered by his intense stare. God, he looks so unimpressed with you right now. You bite your glossy lip and try not to shrink into yourself entirely.

At last, Quaritch sighs and holds out his hand. “Give me that thing.”

You hand over the datapad at once, your eyes growing wide at the possibility of him actually accepting. Asking for this favour had served the dual purpose of fulfilling your work needs and getting to talk to him, but you hadn’t actually expected him to agree.

He squints at the photograph on the screen, and swipes lazily through the mass amounts of text accompanying. “I ain’t reading all that shit. Give me the run-down on it.”

You had actually written ‘all that shit’, but no matter.

“It grows similar to a fungus, so you’ll likely find it attached to trees or other plants,” You rush to explain, excitement beginning to bubble up into your chest. “You won’t be able to take an actual sample of the tissue without damaging it, so forget about that. What I really would like is a sample of the fluid that collects inside the cup on top, see?”

His eyes follow you as you reach up on your toes to point out what you’re referring to in the photograph, and his ears flick back in acknowledgement.

“It poisonous?”

You hesitate a moment. “...No.”

Quaritch shoots you a look of obvious disbelief. “You wanna try that again?”

“It’s not poisonous.” You say, a little bit more convincingly this time. “But it does have a sort of defence system. Just… don’t touch the little tendrils.”

Quaritch’s face is set in stern disapproval, but he isn’t saying no.

“I’ll provide you with the instruments you need,” You continue, starting to bounce a little on your toes at the prospect of him agreeing. You really need these samples. “Oh, I’d be so grateful!”

There’s a muffled sound from somewhere over your shoulder, where the rest of the recoms are no doubt watching and listening with great interest, but you don’t turn. Quaritch’s gaze flickers only momentarily towards them, and they silence instantly. God, he’s so effortlessly commanding.

When he looks back to you, he just sighs through his nose and hands you back the datapad. “Fine. Send me the details.”

For a moment, you just stare at him. It takes a beat to register that he’s just agreed, and then a wide, beaming grin begins to grow across your face.

“Thank you-!” You start to squeal, but he cuts you off with a quick wave of his hand.

“Cut that out,” He grumbles, already beginning to scowl as he steps back. “Never let it be said by Ardmore that I was unco-operative with the goddamned science department, yeah?”

You’re not willing to press your luck any further than you already have. You just nod, a little frantic, before sending him one last smile and scurrying your way out of the room. The laughter from the rec room follows you all the way up the corridor, but you don’t care – you’re getting your samples and you just had your first conversation with Quaritch. He looked at you, he spoke to you. He knows you exist!

You’re smiling to yourself the entire way back to the lab, flushed with the pleasure of your success.

For the next couple of days, you’re waiting on tenterhooks for the recoms return.

You still work away on your projects and your research, but you’re hyper-attuned to everyone that comes and goes from the lab. It’s not as though you’re really expecting the recoms to come into the lab, but you’re listening desperately for any news of their return.

The day before they’re due to arrive back to base, Geiszler comes to irritate you at your desk.

“Go away.” You grumble before he can say a word.

“Oh, come on!” He laughs. “I come bearing gifts!”

That catches your attention, and you raise your head from your work to squint at him. He’s standing there with a stupid sort of grin on his face, the kind that makes you uneasy, and his hands are tucked behind his back.

“What?” You ask suspiciously.

With a flourish, Geiszler pulls his arms out from behind his back. When you see what’s in his hands, you nearly scream.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with you-!” You hiss, whirling around to look frantically over your shoulders.

Mercifully, there’s no one around to witness the enormous blue dildo in his hands as he offers it up to you.

Geiszler is laughing, as though this is just the funniest shit he could have imagined. “Oh, the look on your face-!”

“Get that away from me!” You hiss, scandalised. “Oh my god, you do realise that I could report you for workplace sexual harassment-”

“But you won’t, because we made this specially for you-”

“We?” You hiss in disbelief. “Who the fuck is we?”

Geiszler waves that away as though it’s unimportant. “Me and some of the other guys in xeno. Look, it gets boring in the lab. We thought this was funny. It’s a Na’vi dildo, to scale. You’re welcome.”

“You are such an asshole.” You snap, mortified. “God, what is wrong with you!”

Geiszler just snorts, and places the big dildo on your desk, right in the middle of your papers. It’s almost comically large, made with bright blue silicone and featuring a prominent, squishy head. It’s even ribbed down the underside, with bumps that admittedly look rather attractive. Your face burns at the sight of it.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that 3D-printed-”

“Take it back!” You pick it up and try to push it at him, but he’s already backing away with his hands up in the air. The stupid prick is laughing at you.

“Nu-uh! It’s all yours!” He’s already backing away, all sniggers. “You can imagine the colonel-”

“Oh, you freak! That is so invasive-!” You nearly drop the dildo entirely, both horrified and mortified.

Oh my god, it was to scale. This was the size of what the colonel was packing? It feels as though the silicone is burning in your hand, and you feel horribly hot and prickly. Oh, this was such an invasion of the colonel’s privacy. Whether it was the standard size of a Na’vi cock or not, the idea of using it while imagining Quaritch over you has you flushed and embarrassed.

Geiszler is still laughing when he ducks out of the lab, leaving you alone and absolutely humiliated.

After that, you avoid the lab. You know that the scientists all think that your crush on Quaritch is just one big joke, and you really don’t want to see them all smirking and sniggering when they see you, and you really don’t want to have to field any sly comments about the stupid dildo.

You’ve been too mortified to even look at it too closely, so you take it and hide it away under a load of papers in a separate work area that’s usually used as storage. You’ve been hiding away in this separate little work room for days now; you can’t do any important experiments here, but it’s as good a place as any to work on your dissertation and at least you can be alone here.

You’re in this little work area, typing furiously, when the door slides open behind you with a hiss.

“Geiszler, if you’re here just to harass me again, I will fuck you up.” You bite out without turning, your shoulders turning tense as you glare at your monitor.

There’s a moment of silence, and you hope that he’s taken the hint to go away and leave you alone.

“I’m not sure I appreciate that tone, girl.”

You turn so quickly that you nearly overbalance right off your chair, eyes wide and horrified. The workroom that you’ve practically claimed for yourself is small, with low ceilings designed for human use – that means that Quaritch has had to duck down to fit through the door, and remains standing hunched and visibly irritated, with one hand lifted against the ceiling so he doesn’t hit his head.

“Oh-!” You scramble to get off your chair and fix your skirt, tugging it down straight as you hope and pray that your hair looks alright. “Sir, I- I didn’t realise that you were back!”

Quaritch just grunts. He does not look particularly happy, but he sets a large sample container on one of the empty desk spaces. Inside, it’s filled with a clear liquid that could easily be mistaken for water, but you know better.

“Oh!” You gasp, jolting forward to take a better look. “Oh, such a big sample! This is amazing, thank you!”

Quaritch says nothing, his big alien face impossible to read.

“It better be worth it.” Another voice cuts in, and you jolt in surprise at the realisation that there’s another big blue figure ducking in through the door after Quaritch.

You pause, uncertain in the face of this newcomer and already nervous from Quaritch’s overbearing presence. Oh, god. He’s brought company. Why has he brought company? Another blue head appears over the shoulder of the first soldier, and your eyes dart between them. You’ve spent enough time watching the Colonel to recognise them as Corporal Wainfleet and Private Fike, though you don’t have so much as a passing acquaintance with them.

“I thought you said they were harmless.” Fike grumbles, before raising his hands up to show you rather brutal looking purple bruises along the backs of his hands. “Fucking look at this.”

“Oh.” You breathe, wincing. “No, I said they weren’t poisonous. I did tell you to watch out for the tendrils. The defence system is really quite amazing-”

“Oh yeah, it felt fucking amazing when it was stinging the ever-loving shit out of me.” Fike interrupts, though he appears to have lost interest in speaking to you in favour of peering curiously around the work room.

You can imagine that the place looks fairly dismal; you hadn’t been expecting visitors, so your research is scattered everywhere. Coloured sketches and photographs of cross-sections of the panopyra plant are stuck up on the walls all over, not just around your own desk. You’ve taken advantage of the desks that are never in use, piling your notes and research high all over the place. Writing your dissertation is exhausting work, after all – there is just so much to learn from these plants, so much potential.

“Well, I think that it is worth it.” You say, stepping towards the counter that Quaritch had placed your sample on and reaching eagerly for the beaker. “It’s difficult to get samples like this – there are so few excursions into the jungle these days. But one this size might actually be enough to fuel my research for the next two months at least! I might actually be able to finish my dissertation at last-”

No one is listening to you, you’re quite certain, but you don’t let that deter you as you babble away, raising the beaker to your eye level so that you can examine it. The liquid inside is pure and uncontaminated – the perfect specimen.

“Whoa,” Wainfleet is peering at the sketches on the wall. “You’re really into these weird little plants, huh?”

“They’re the whole reason I’m here on Pandora.” You say matter-of-factly, placing the beaker back down on the desk. “Everything I’m doing here, all my research, is all centred around them.”

It’s the most you’ve ever said in the presence of the recoms, and you find yourself mentally patting yourself on the back. You really are intelligent and driven, though you’re sure that the recoms would never have guessed it based on how moronically you act around Colonel Quaritch. They seem quite surprised to discover that you have actual interests other than their beefy commanding officer.

Fike and Wainfleet both poke around the work room curiously, snickering with each other as they peer blindly into microscopes and push around enormous reference books like big kids.

“Hey, careful with that!” You say reproachfully, though they pay you no mind.

Quaritch himself is still standing silently, taking in the room with alert but judgemental eyes. He doesn’t seem all that impressed by your work, but then again it’s almost impossible to read him. He makes no effort to chide his underlings at all, and they continue messing about unchecked.

“Took us a while to find you.” Quaritch speaks suddenly, and your attention is drawn to him immediately, a swoop of excitement juddering through you at the fact that he’s speaking to you. “You’re not in the lab with the rest of the science pukes.”

Your silly excitement at being on the receiving end of his attention dims a little at that. Science pukes? Seriously? You’ve worked damn hard for this degree!

“That’s not nice.” You say, then mentally curse yourself. It’s not quite the scathing reproach you had intended – it comes out a little wobbly and uncertain. God, why do you have to come across as such a sad little wet blanket whenever you’re in front of him?

“Not nice?” Quaritch repeats, sounding partially amused and partially disbelieving. “And when have I ever been known for bein’ nice, sweetheart?”

Good lord, he’s terrifying. You don’t normally have a difficult time standing up for yourself, but something about being on the receiving end of that bright yellow stare makes your stomach twist. You don’t know if it's fear or arousal, and you also don't know which would be worse.

“I just mean-” You start, trying hard to keep your voice strong and confident. “That calling people names isn’t nice.”

Calling people names isn’t nice. Fucking hell, you sound like a goddamn five-year-old. What is even happening to you? You swear you’re not normally like this. Has your brain just rotted thanks to all the stupid ogling of his big biceps you’ve been doing? You’re mortified.

“Jesus Christ.” Wainfleet’s voice calls out from somewhere behind you. “What the fuck is this?”

For a moment, you’re desperately relieved that they’ve called attention away from you. Quaritch is looking at you with scathing disbelief for that calling people names comment, and you’re quite sure that whatever he was going to say in response to that would be so biting that you’d wish you were dead.

But then you turn to look at Wainfleet, and you actually do wish that you were dead.

Because in his hand, looking almost regular sized against his much larger body, is that stupid, evil giant blue Na’vi dildo that Geiszler had given you last week. You had stuffed it behind a whole load of old papers on an unused desk and forgotten about it – it was just your fucking luck that these gormless blue bastards would unearth it accidentally as they poked around.

Mortification erupts through your body, so overwhelming that it roots you to the spot. No way. No way. No way.

“Holy fuck!” Fike bursts out laughing, and holds his hands up. “Give that here!”

Nothing can describe the sheer humiliation that sears through you when Wainfleet tosses the dildo to Fike. You just stand there frozen, watching the two enormous Na’vi soldiers throw a huge silicone dick between them in the middle of your workspace.

“Damn, the little intern’s a freak!” Fike says in mock approval, his voice dripping in amusement.

He makes a show of holding the dildo up to the light and peering at it, faux-admiring the bumps and ridges along the shaft.

“No, that’s not-” You start, and your voice cracks. “That’s not mine-”

You go entirely ignored as the two soldiers roar boisterously.

“Damn, you think of the Colonel when you use this?” Wainfleet asks, cackling as Fike throws it back to him. “Is this why you follow him around everywhere? You want the real thing?”

The humiliation is so intense that it’s actually difficult to breathe around it, stifling and choking. You glance at Quaritch, hoping that by some miracle he’s gone temporarily blind and deaf and has missed this entire exchange so far. The idea of him knowing that you’ve been following him around is shocking, and you feel yourself shrinking.

Quaritch has just pressed his lips together. As you watch, he gives a deep sigh through his nose.

Your stomach quivers with mortification. Oh my god. He knew already – how long has he been aware of your crush?

“No,” You choke out, your skin burning hot. “No, I don’t- I don’t use that, it was given to me as a joke-”

Quaritch is still so difficult to read, but even still he looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere else right now. His gaze flickers briefly over your face, which is all contorted in mortification as you just barely bite back tears, and he rolls his eyes with a sigh.

“Alright, that’s enough-” Quaritch starts, but it’s too late.

Wainfleet has just reached out and smacked Fike around the head with the dildo, laughing as he did so, and Fike stumbles back with a playful roar as he tries to escape the silicone cock. He throws his arms out to catch his balance, but his big hands splay across one of the work tables and knock some of your reference books to the floor.

But it’s not just the books he knocks into. His hand smacks into that precious beaker full of panopyra liquid, and you let out a startled shout as the force of the blow of his hand breaks the glass container, the liquid inside showering all over the desk with all your papers.

Everyone goes silent, as though the sound of breaking glass signals some kind of change in the atmosphere.

You let out a sound that’s positively wounded, jerking forward to the destroyed sample. You needed this specimen so badly – it was supposed to inform the research that you needed to finish your dissertation. How long would you have to wait for another sample like this one? You’ve been working on this research for years, and you were so damn close to the end. So damn close to being qualified, to stepping up the ladder and being taken seriously by your peers rather than just being seen as an intern.

“Shit.” One of the recoms mutter; you don’t bother looking up to see if it’s Wainfleet or Fike. “Didn’t mean to-”

Your eyes trace over the mess of broken glass, but then you realise what the sample has broken on and you feel your stomach drop to your feet.

“No!” You shriek, launching yourself forward.

The recoms all jerk in surprise at your shout, but you pay them no mind. It’s like they’re invisible to you now. All you can see is the way that your papers, your precious research, is being soaked through and destroyed by the liquid that has spilled all over the desk.

“No, no, no, no.” You breathe to yourself, biting hard at the inside of your cheek to keep from crying as you struggle to pick up your research, shaking it out in an attempt to get the worst of the wetness off.

It’s too late. Your research, all your painstakingly-taken hand-written notes, tears like wet tissue-paper in your hands.

You raise your head to look at the three recoms in your workspace, still clutching your destroyed research to your chest. You must look crazed, breathing heavily with wide and wild eyes, because Wainfleet and Fike share a wincing look with each other.

Awkwardly, Wainfleet reaches out and places the large dildo on the counter next to the ruins of your work. Everyone in the room struggles not to look at it.

Quaritch’s jaw is clenched hard, his ears pinned back against the sides of his head. He appears to be holding himself back from shouting, though you’re not sure at who. Slowly, he turns his head to look at his two subordinates, who are now standing with their heads ducked as they try not to make eye contact.

With trembling hands, you drop your ruined research back down on the counter. Your mortification is swiftly being overtaken by pure rage.

How fucking dare they? It would be one thing for them to mock you about your crush (that apparently Quaritch was already fucking aware of) but it’s entirely another for them to humiliate you by parading around with that stupid fucking dildo that you’ve never even properly touched. And then to go and destroy your sample, the one that you’ve waited so long for and that you needed so desperately for your dissertation? And to destroy a chunk of your existing research too?

“Get out.” You whisper, your fingers shaking as you pluck at the ruins of your papers.

Quaritch sighs through his nose. “Look, we’ll get you another sample of the damn thing. There’s no need to-”

“Get out!” You raise your voice for real, whipping your head up to shout at them. “God, you assholes! Get out!”

Fike laughs nervously, glancing towards Quaritch. That only sets you off even more. They have the audacity to follow their commanding officer into your workspace and mess around, ruining things, and now they’re not going to listen to you after destroying your work? God, they look down on you so much it’s sickening. They’re not even listening to you after humiliating you so soundly, choosing instead to look towards Quaritch as if his opinion matters so much more than yours.

Your rage is only fuelled by your earlier embarrassment, your face flushed with heat as you glare at them. Oh, you’re furious. You can’t remember ever being so humiliated and livid in your life.

“I want you fucking out!” You roar, and when they don’t move you reach for a reference book on the table beside you and launch it at them. “You’ve fucking ruined it-”

Wainfleet ducks to avoid the book that soars over his head, but you’re already reaching for another one. He throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but you’re so blinded by rage that you barely even see it.

“Oi!” Quaritch lets out a shout and steps forward with his hands outstretched as if to physically stop you. “Enough! You’ll be written up for assault if you keep this up-”

You let out an inarticulate noise of fury as you throw a second book, this one bouncing harmlessly off Fike’s shoulder. “I’ll be written up for murder if you don’t get the fuck out of here-”

Wainfleet lets out a sound that sounds like a nervous giggle that’s been choked back. You can imagine that it’s a little bit of a shock for them to see you go from shy and mild-mannered to absolutely fucking insane, but your crush on Quaritch really had made you act like a total idiot around them. You feel so stupid about it now – you had become so enamoured with someone who totally ignored your existence, shrinking into yourself like a goddamn wallflower because you were so shy around him.

But Quaritch is looking at you, for possibly one of the first times ever. Not just looking at you, but seeing you.

When you grab at a microscope to throw, heavy and metal and definitely capable of doing some damage, Quaritch lets out a sharp hiss and steps forward with a single hand outstretched towards you as though to physically restrain you.

“Get out.” He says without looking at his soldiers.

Wainfleet and Fike share a look with each other before practically scrambling to leave. They can’t seem to leave fast enough, though you have no doubt that they’re snickering together as they go.

“You too.” You grit out, fists clenched around the microscope as though it’s a weapon. “I want you gone too.”

Despite your obvious anger, Quaritch makes no move to leave. His big honey-coloured eyes trace over the broken glass on your desk, your ruined research, your big teary eyes. You probably look like a mess; you’re practically sweating from all the embarrassment, your hair is in disarray, your eyes are all swollen from the angry tears that are threatening to spill over.

“You need to calm down, darlin’.” He says, his voice low and a little bit rumbly. Ordinarily that might make you melt, but as it is you just feel as though he’s being condescending. “It’s just some goddamn plant water. You’ll get more on the next run.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You snap without thinking, your chest still heaving with poorly stifled emotion. “It’s not just about the sample and you know it.”

Quaritch’s golden eyes cut towards the big dildo on the counter, and you feel your temper flare all over again.

“It’s not about that either!” You snap, embarrassed and defensive. “This research is my life! Without it, there’s no point to me even being here on Pandora. Your fucking knuckleheads have just destroyed months worth of work. Do you have any idea how much harder I have to work than the fucking men out there?”

You gesture towards the door to the main laboratory, where you’re sure they’ve walked past all the overwhelmingly male scientists working away. No doubt they can hear the shouting, but no one has been brave enough to come looking to see what’s wrong.

Quaritch’s expression doesn’t so much as twitch as he watches you rage, and he doesn’t interrupt.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is just to claw my way up to equal standing with them? They laugh at me enough already, that’s why they gave me that stupid thing-” You wave at the dildo without looking at it. “Just because they knew that I liked you. They laugh at me for having a stupid crush on you, and I… I’m so sick of people looking at me like I’m just pathetic, because I work so hard! And now you’re here, and you’ve just ruined my work-”

Quaritch lets you rant until you run yourself dry. You’re breathing heavily, exhausted and furious and so fucking sick of the sight of him.

“Look, kid.” He says at last, when you pause for breath. “You’re sweet. Pretty. Smart, clearly. But I ain’t looking for anything like that. I need to focus on this mission-”

“Oh, what the fuck.” You breathe, staring at him in total disbelief. “Is that the only part you fucking heard? I have a crush on you, that’s it! All I wanted was for you to look my way, and it took a giant fucking dildo for you to actually acknowledge that you knew about how I felt? You’re such a dick-”

“Hey,” He barks, stepping forward. He’s so huge, his bulk alone throwing you into shadow as he looms over you. “Watch your mouth-”

“No!” You snap, although your voice is a little thin. He really is an intimidating bastard. “No, you don’t get to tell me what to do! God, I am so sick of men thinking they can tell me what to do-”

Quaritch’s chest erupts in a little rumbling snarl, and you have to fight not to flinch away from him. He’s like a beast, lip all curled up over his fangs as he growls at you for your attitude.

“So what, your solution is to hide away in this miserable little room?” He demands, stepping forward just so he can look down his nose at you. “Some of those dickless little science guys were mean to you, so you’re gonna lock yourself away like this?”

“It’s not-”

“What’s the point in dressing up all pretty in those little skirts with all that makeup if you’re hiding away in here, huh?” He continues, insistent as he keeps pushing forward until you start to back up. “Maybe that’s why they don’t take you seriously. You need to stand up for-”

“That’s for you!” You shout, temper flaring up all over again. “I do that for you, because I thought you might look at me!”

Quaritch pauses at that, blinking as though you’ve just taken him by surprise. It infuriates you; how could he be so stupid, especially when he has known about your crush all this time. It’s not like it was subtle.

Suddenly, you feel absolutely exhausted. It’s like every ounce of your energy has been leached out of you, and you turn your head and sigh. The amount of emotions that have washed through you in such a short space of time has left you feeling drained and drawn, and you just want to be left alone now.

“I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You say tiredly, turning away from him and burying your face in your hands. “Just get out. Go away.”

There’s a long pause, but mercifully Quaritch doesn’t try to argue any further. You’re still turned away and facing the wall, so you hardly hear his quiet footsteps as he turns on his heel and marches out of the room. The door whooshes closed behind him, leaving you alone and hunched in the middle of the room.

In hindsight, you may have overreacted with the recoms a little bit.

You had been careful to back up some of the most important points of your research to your hard drive, so you hadn’t truly lost as much information as you had initially feared. It’s more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, really. The loss of the sample does sting quite a bit, but you’ll get more. It just might take another couple of months – the wait is frustrating, but there’s nothing you can do about that.

All you can do is try to recoup some of the notes that you’ve lost, and struggle to write more based on the samples that you’ve already studied. It’s very difficult to come up with any new material when you don’t actually have anything to work with, but all you can do is your best, as usual.

Geiszler creeps into the small workroom a few days later.

For several days after the incident with the recoms, none of your colleagues have dared to say a word to you. You’re sure they had heard the shouting, the glass shattering, the sound of you throwing books. If they had somehow missed all that, then they surely would have noticed the recoms that had stalked from the workroom, all agitated and pent up from the argument. Yet none of them have even asked you if you were okay.

“Still avoiding us, huh?” Geiszler asks, his question accompanied with a nervous laugh.

“Fuck off.” You bite out without looking away from your computer screen.

“Ouch.” Geiszler mutters. “I suppose I might deserve that.”

You can hear him approaching, but you still refuse to turn around. You just keep stubbornly working away, acting as though you’re too busy to spare him any attention. Unfortunately, Geiszler doesn’t let your inattention sway him; he just settles in a stool nearby, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I, uh… heard about that little blow up you had with the Colonel.” He says, clearly a little awkward. “I wanted to apologise. Upon reflection, the, uh… the dildo thing might have been a little inappropriate.”

You fight the urge to sigh. God, what did you do to deserve being surrounded with morons like this?

“Yeah, no shit.” You mutter, finally looking up to glare at him. “Why are you here? All I want is to be left alone.”

Geiszler, to your gratification, looks positively shame-faced. He’s looking down at his hands as he twiddles his thumbs, sighing.

“Wanted to apologise, I guess.” He mutters, shrugging.

“Yeah, well, whatever.” You mutter, finally abandoning your attempts to appear busy as you turn to him. “Plenty more Na’vi on Pandora, right?”

A nervous giggle bubbles out of his chest, as though he’s not certain if he’s allowed to laugh or not.

“Yeah, yeah, right.” He says, starting to grin. “And, uh… are you.. Are you strictly Na’vi-sexual, or are you-”

You burst out laughing, turning to look at him in disbelief. “Na’vi-sexual? There’s no way you just fucking asked me that.”

There’s a bizarre sort of blush on his face, but he laughs along with you anyway. “Right, right. Well, you can’t blame me for wondering, right? With your crush, I mean.”

Your smile fades, and you look back down at your work scattered all over the desk.

“I don’t want to talk about that, actually.” You murmur, “I think I’ve made enough of a fool of myself as is.”

Geiszler nods awkwardly, looking distinctly guilty.

“Yeah. You, um,” He breaks off, scratching uncomfortably at the back of his neck. “You look nice.”

You just raise a sardonic eyebrow at him. You’ve gone without makeup today, and you know that going bare-faced makes you look younger, but who were you kidding with all that makeup, anyway? You’ve abandoned the sleek pencil skirts and pretty blouses, too. Under your lab coat you wear a simple sort of sundress, one that stops just below the knees. No heels, either, just sneakers.

“Yeah, well.” You shrug a shoulder lazily. “No one to impress.”

Geiszler’s smile twists as he nods again. “Sure, sure. Um… look, I was wondering-”

You never do get to know what it is that Geiszler is wondering. The sound of the door to the workroom hissing open cuts him off, and he falls silent as the two of you look to see who has just encroached into your space.

The sight of Quaritch’s big blue form ducking in and then straightening up has the two of you stiffening, staring at him in disbelief.

You’re absolutely rooted to the spot at the sight of him, but when he turns to look at you, you whirl around and immediately feign being busy. You grab blindly at papers and datapads, and peer unseeingly at your computer screen as you try to look preoccupied. What is he doing here?

Geiszler, meanwhile, doesn’t even try to pretend that he’s not gawking stupidly.

Quaritch glances his way, and his expression drops into a sneer. “What’re you looking at? Get outta here.”

Irritatingly, Geiszler scrambles to do just that. He sends one last glance towards you before practically fleeing from the room, nervously ducking around Quaritch’s imposingly large figure.

Your eyes bulge a little now that you’re left alone with him, and your eyes dart around frantically around the room in search of something to do. Why is he here? Why the fuck has he come back? It’s been days since your embarrassing breakdown in front of him, and you’ve been blissfully unaware of him since. You’ve basically just locked yourself up in this room, working on your research. You’ve even taken meals here – it’s a much more productive use of your time than wandering around the base after Quaritch in the hopes of catching a good glimpse of his ass in his camo.

Fighting to resist the urge to look his way, you tap urgently at the datapad in your hand.

“Do you need something, Colonel?” You ask icily, your attention focused down on your pad. “I’m very busy.”

There’s a momentary silence, but you’re not willing to look up to see his expression.

“Was that one of the cockless little deadbeats that’s been giving you a hard time?”

Giving you a hard time. God, it sounds as though you’re a bullied little kid. How embarrassing.

“He’s the one that gave me the dildo.” You say simply, tapping on the datapad screen. “But he’s not so bad, I guess. Just a bit of an idiot. That doesn’t answer my question.”

The next pause is much longer.

“Haven’t seen you around.” Quaritch drawls, his voice slow and even. “Couldn’t get away from you, before.”

Oh my god, this man is just determined to humiliate you.

Pursing your lips, you turn and march towards the specimen fridge in the corner of the room. It’s really just a mini fridge; a low, hip-high box that contains various biological specimens, and you kneel down and stick your head inside in an attempt to look busy.

“Not like there was any need to come see you.” You call out simply, your voice slightly muffled from inside the fridge. “You made yourself pretty clear, before.”

“Oh?” His voice is closer, though his steps are so light that you can’t hear him approach. “About what?”

“About me.” You snap, though you keep your head firmly buried in the fridge. It’s so much easier to talk to him when you can’t see his face. “Just go back to ignoring me, please.”

There’s another long pause, and you keep staring blankly at the bright white wall of the mini fridge. But then a touch comes to your hip, and you jolt in surprise.

Quaritch’s hand is big and hot, the heat of it searing through the fabric of your labcoat and your sundress. It engulfs your whole damn hip, curving around towards your lower stomach.

“What’s with the change in clothes, sweetheart?” His voice has dropped an octave, rumbling into you as you feel him shuffle closer. “I thought all those little skirts were for me.”

Your fingers clench around the door of the fridge. What the fuck is he doing? All that time you had spent dressed up, made up, simpering like a damn idiot at him, he had barely even given you a sideways glance. But now, after screaming and crying at him like a lunatic, he’s making a pass at you while you’re wearing a simple dress with no makeup. What the fuck?

“I’m not trying to impress you.” You say simply – you feel braver inside the fridge.

“No?” His thumb strokes over your thigh, and you feel the hem of your dress hitch higher. “Well, I like this little number. Better than the others, maybe.”

You swallow thickly, staring blankly at one of the little labeled test tubes beside your face. You don’t answer, but you don’t protest either. Quaritch seems to take your lack of response as encouragement, because his whole hand drifts from your hip to just under your dress. You jerk as you feel the skirt being flipped up over your ass – but you still don’t pull away.

“Hey, kid,” He murmurs, his voice soft and a little condescending. “I gotta question for you.”

His hands are moving slowly, as though waiting to see if you’re going to kick out or try to stop him any way. You know you probably should (where is your goddamn self-respect), but for some reason you allow the touch to travel all the way up your thighs.

Your belly tightens, heat flooding between your legs. Oh god, why aren’t you stopping this? You’re already embarrassed enough about the show of yourself you’ve made in front of him – this is surely going to make it worse by making you seem like a total slut. But then again, you’ve been desperate for him since you first locked eyes on him. Maybe you are a slut.

“What?” You breathe, your voice trembling a little as his big fingers leave red-hot trails over the bare skin on the back of your legs. A large palm strokes over the inside of your thigh, the soft calluses tickling your sensitive skin.

“That dildo. You ever use it?”

The question startles you enough that you jolt, the top of your head smacking into the top of the fridge.

“What?”

He chuckles, and then you feel those big fingers curl around your cotton panties. “You coming outta there?”

“No,” You blurt, grabbing at the sides of the mini fridge. “No, I’m very busy.”

There’s a sharp tug to your underwear, and you gasp as you feel him pull the back of your panties up so that they’re wedged right up between your ass cheeks, the fabric stretched taut and tight over your cunt. You’re admittedly wetter than you’d like to be, and you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of him noticing.

And yet, you still don’t pull away. If anything, you’re holding your breath, waiting to see what the fuck he’s going to do next.

When you feel warm breath on your exposed ass cheek, you nearly choke. Oh my god, how closely is he looking at you right now? Is his face pressed right up between your legs? It sure fucking feels like it.

“Answer the question.”

You swallow thickly. “I, um.. I don’t-”

His hand twists, and you gasp as your panties are pulled up further. The message is clear – tell the truth.

“Once,” You choke out, mortified. “Just once! I just- I threw it out after, I didn’t-”

You don’t even have time to fully process the fact that you’ve just admitted that. It had been a moment of total weakness, your decision to smuggle that stupid dildo back to your room. Or maybe it had been morbid curiosity – you just wanted to know if you would be able to take it. You had binned it straight after, mortified by your own weakness.

There’s a sharp pain on the soft pudge of your ass, as though he’s just nipped at you there. Your thighs twitch together, horrified by the little electric zap of arousal that jolts between your legs.

“Could you take it?” He wonders, and you can hear a grin in his voice.

Holy shit, is this happening? Are you dead? Hallucinating? Have you just lost your goddamn mind?

Emboldened by the fact that he can’t see your face where you’ve stuffed your head and shoulders into the fridge, you mumble, “Pervert.”

Two hands grip at your hips, and you let out a wheezing, startled gasp when you feel a wide, rough tongue lick a stripe across your pussy through your panties. His spit soaks through the delicate fabric, making it cling to your already sticky cunt.

“Whatcha say?” He mumbles, his muffled words vibrating against your clit. He sounds smug, the bastard.

Your thighs clench around his face, but he just reaches up and pushes them back open again with no effort.

“What are you doing?” You gasp out, dropping your forehead down onto the tray of the fridge and making the sample test tubes clink together dangerously.

He huffs a short laugh and pulls his head back to nip right at the juncture of your ass and thigh, making you jolt away from his mouth. “What, you don’t like it? Want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurt, reaching back to try and grab at his head to keep him in place.

He knocks your hand aside, but you can feel him laughing. “Get your head out of that goddamn fridge then, before I drag you out.”

You feel like staying inside the mini-fridge just on principle, but you can’t bear the thought of him pulling his mouth away from you. Not when he’s finally started to touch you, after so long of you yearning for it.

Slowly, you pull your head out. No sooner have you started to move then Quaritch uses his grip on your hips to pull you out. You let out a startled sound as his big hands grab at you and flip you, throwing you on your back in front of him. The display of casual strength is unexpected and very, very attractive, and your legs spread eagerly before he even moves to open them himself.

When you actually get a look at him, it nearly bowls you right over. His pupils are so blown that they’re swallowing his irises, leaving just a thin ring of gold around the edge. His ears are held high and alert, and his mouth is quirked in that infuriatingly cocky little grin right now.

Fuck, he’s just as horny as you are. The realisation is shocking.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” He asks, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them right off with no effort.

You don’t put up a single ounce of fight, arching your back with an excited gasp as you’re left exposed in front of him with your dress all hiked up around your waist.

He lets out a soft groan as he reaches a finger out and drags it through the folds of your cunt, clearly marvelling at the wetness that has collected there. That same finger slips inside of you and you moan, wanting more, wanting to roll up into it, wanting the ache inside of you filled to the brim.

“Look at you, kid, all sexed up like this.” He says, pulling that finger out and admiring the glistening slick on his hand.

“You’re just a-” You gasp, heaving for breath as you struggle to regain yourself. “A dirty old man!”

That makes him laugh, a low groan of a sound that makes your eye twitch. Holy fuck, does he like being called names?

“Oh yeah?” He rumbles, sounding delighted. He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s licking at you again.

He flattens his tongue and guides it up, sliding across your slit before enveloping your clit in his mouth and sucking. You’re arching into his mouth, breathlessly stuttering his name as your hips twitch. His hands on your hips are so big and so strong, holding you so firmly in place as his mouth devours you.

The flat of his tongue is rough and textured like a cat’s, and you let out a low gasping sound as it catches against your clit. Two of his fingers push into you as his tongue works over your clit, as thick and meaty as a well-hung cock. He must feel the flutter of your cunt around his fingers, because he growls low, his powerful form all but vibrating with tension.

Oh god, he’s so big. You had known that, of course, but it’s so different having him all up in your space like this, your legs thrown over the bulge of his biceps as his big head worms its way between your legs, licking insistently at you. The bulk of him is enormous, simmering sexuality about to boil over - it’s insanely arousing to you, the sheer energy of him sending your head spinning.

The onslaught of sensation from the wet heat of his mouth has your head dropping back to the floor, staring up at the ceiling as your eyes go wide. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and as much as you don’t want to give Quaritch the satisfaction of knowing that he affects you like this, you can't help the way your back bows as he licks and sucks at you.

He grins against you when he feels you shiver against his mouth. When your thighs clench closed around his head he groans softly against you. Embarrassed, your legs spring back apart, but Quaritch reaches up and grabs at your thighs to prevent them from spreading too wide.

“Squeeze if you want to.” He grunts, before devoting all his attention to licking and sucking at you once more. He tugs encouragingly at your thighs, and when you wrap them tentatively around his head he gives an appreciative little hum.

You shiver, chest heaving. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, his textured tongue rasping over the bead of nerves, a strong white current washes over you and you arch into his mouth as you come.

You can’t speak, can’t think. The feeling is too overwhelming, too all-consuming before the come down eventually starts and words are coming out, your body shaking.

“Oh fuck, god – oh my god,” you sob, slapping your hand over your mouth, biting down at your palm. “Quaritch– please, shit.”

You jerk your hips up, partially in an attempt to escape from the relentless stroking of his rough tongue over your oversensitive clit, but Quaritch moves with them. He’s basically on his knees following your cunt like a dog as you try to twitch away, using his huge hands on your ass to keep you pulled tight against his mouth.

He goes on licking at your clit and the swollen puffiness of your cunt, and when the rough texture catching against your most sensitive spot gets too much for you, you have to push at his head. He pulls back just slightly, but then continues to lick at the insides of your thighs, as if to lap up every last glimmer of your slickness.

Your head rolls on your neck, all boneless and loose as you wheeze for breath. Jesus Christ, you’ve just come so hard you can’t feel your toes. Colonel Quaritch has just eaten your pussy so goddamn good that you nearly blacked out. What the fuck?

Your cunt is still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when you feel Quaritch’s big fingers pressing inside of you, testing the stretch and slickness.

“You never answered me,” He murmurs, his tone almost conversational despite the huskiness of his voice. “And I hate repeating myself. So tell me; could you take that dildo?”

“Yes,” You sob, twisting your body around as his thumb rolls over your too-sensitive clit. “Yes, I could take it.”

“Yeah?” He says and it comes out on a purr, the vibrations rumbling in between your legs. “Think you could take me?”

You hardly have any idea how you’ve gotten into this position, but you’ve been imagining this for months now. You’re not stupid enough to throw away this chance.

“Why don’t you come and see?” You breathe, leaning back and arching your back boldly. You can hardly believe your own bravery, but maybe your own horniness is just making you stupid.

But Quaritch laughs, as though he finds you stupidly amusing, and his hands drop to his belt. You watch with wide, eager eyes as he flicks open his cargos and pushes them down and oh! There it is.

You push yourself up to get a better look, mouth falling open a little bit as you get a look at his cock. It’s big and blue and ridged, just like the dildo, but you hardly think it’s fair to compare the two. Quaritch’s cock is real, and looks velvety soft to the touch with a prominent, purplish head. Opalescent precum is beading at the tip, tinged slightly blue and glowing a little bit, what the fuck? He’s so hard that it looks a little painful as it strains against his stomach, though he’s still grinning so slyly that you would never guess.

You want to touch, but you don’t get the chance. His big paws for hands close around your hips and flip you again so that you’re on your hands and knees once more – he seems to like you in this position, because his hands grope insistently at the soft flesh of your ass as he grinds his hips into yours, the thick hardness of his cock rutting against the inside of your thighs.

He’s rough with you by human standards, but never enough to hurt. Just enough to send a little thrill up your spine when he pulls your hips into his, the thick ridge of his cockhead beginning to prod at the entrance of your cunt. It’s hot and large, but your mind feels like liquid, too drunk on all the pleasure he’s given you so far to deny more.

You choke weakly, but you don’t try to wriggle away. You can do this, you can take him. He’s prepared you well, you’re relaxed and so wet, and you had managed to take that dildo inside you, if only for a brief time. You try to stop tensing and relax yourself as you take shaky breaths.

Quaritch pushes his cock in a little further, almost unbearably slow. You feel yourself being stretched open, small stings of pain shooting through you as you drop your forehead to the ground and grunt. One of his big thumbs strokes over the small of your back, the motion soothing and unexpectedly sweet as he slips another inch inside.

“Oh, fuck.” You squeak, eyes wide.

You can feel little bumps and ridges squeezing their way inside as he penetrates you, your lungs seizing up. Quiet cries and gasps fall out of your mouth as you adjust to the feeling of his cock filling you up. No human had ever given you this overwhelming sensation before, the feeling of being impossibly stretched open beyond belief. Not even that stupid goddamn dildo had come close to this.

Every time you think the length of his textured cock has finally ended, he’ll push a little more of himself in. You keep your eyes tightly closed as you continue panting heavily. He’s going incredibly slow too, careful and deliberate in his movements. You had stupidly thought that you would adjust quickly, but it feels as though you’re just barely hanging in there.

Then, finally, Quaritch pauses. It’s a mercy, because your breaths are coming in wheezing pants now as you clench up around his cock, tightening up around the intrusion in flutters. You must be tight to the point of causing pain, but he just lets out a rumbly sort of groan against your back. His hands tense around your middle, impossibly long fingers holding you in place.

Right as you begin to accept the size of him, he uses that grip on your waist to pull you away from his cock and then back down onto him again. It knocks the wind right out of you. You gulp wildly for air, soundlessly. You can’t even cry out, you’re so stunned.

“Fuck,” Quaritch moans. “Like wet velvet, honey. Well done.”

Before you can process or even think, Quaritch pulls out and then pushes back into you, again and again. Every bump drags against your walls and snags on every sensitive part of you. It feels like you had never been fucked before this, the sweet, dull pain and overwhelming sensations of Quaritch looming over your body ruining you.

He huffs and growls as he begins to thrust up into you, no longer slow and careful. Each time he pistons his hips, it’s powerful and keeps you from taking deep breaths. The way his body presses into yours, the way every part of you touches his burning skin, is intoxicating.

His need, his hunger borders on bestial. His wet breath condenses against your skin as he ruts into you fervently, destroying your thoughts. You’re totally at his mercy, whimpering pathetically and whining.

It’s all too much, his size, his pace, his sharp teeth nipping the back of your neck and shoulders. He’s like a wild animal, his hard cock burying itself inside you over and over again. It’s the first time that you really begin to appreciate that Quaritch isn’t human anymore – it extends far beyond his looks and into his behaviour and instincts as well. There’s no reprieve; you can only accept his intense pace.

Unbelievably, your abdomen is tensing again, reeling up tighter and tighter. You’re on the brink of coming again, but it feels like it’s impossible. You’ve never been so pleased by a partner before, hardly ever able to come at the hands of someone else, and you’ve never come so quickly twice in succession before. You feel like you’ll die if you come again, it was too much. Everything was too much.

“Come on, mama, let me see that back arch.” Quaritch mutters to you, his voice thick and growling as his big hand settles across your shoulderblades and pushes you down.

All you can do is obey, shivering as his big hand keeps your upper body pinned to the floor, his other hand using its grip on your waist to pull your ass up higher so that he can pound into you at a better angle.

“I’m going to-” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you sob against the floor. “Oh, god, oh fuck, oh shit, I’m going to-”

“Gonna cream on me?” Quaritch grunts, his pace taking the air out of you. “Go ahead, kid. Go on. This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?”

His hips slam into your ass with every thrust, every drag of his cock working those ridges against the sensitive nerves inside of you. You can feel him twitch inside of you, a sure sign that he’s approaching his own release. The thought makes you moan as the strength behind his hips sends you skidding forward on every thrust before getting yanked back by his hands.

Your lashes are all clumped together from tears, your mouth hanging open stupidly – not only are his thrusts knocking the air from you, it feels as though they’re knocking the thoughts from you too. It feels as though he’s giving fucked stupid an entirely new meaning. Your entire world has narrowed down to the sensation of his cock rutting between your legs, his balls grinding against your clit. Your release is winding up in your belly, and you feel your eyes roll and toes curl as it approaches.

“You been watching me, wanting this. If I’d known what a little spitfire you were, maybe I would have given it to you sooner-”

He rocks into you, his pace now rough and deliberate as he claims you in short, fast strokes. Your little workroom is filled with the unmistakable sound of slapping flesh, his hips snapping against your ass with every feral grunt. He has you pinned so firmly beneath him, every thrust feeling as though it’s punching right up into your chest. It aches, and that ache spreads throughout your pelvis, your belly. It’s warm and sweet as syrup. It feels like he's going to break you in half. You think you might want him to break you in half.

“Look at you go.” Quaritch mumbles, seemingly to himself, and then you feel the broad expanse of his hand slap against the soft flesh of your ass. It seems like he just wants to watch it jiggle as he ruts you like an animal.

He leans forward, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he murmurs to you.“This is what that limp-dicked bitch from earlier wanted with you, you know. Bet he imagined you just like this, all stretched out and wanting on that dildo he gave you. Little pervert. He wouldn’t know what to do with you. Think he’s outside listening? I bet all those cockless motherfuckers are listening right now, trying to imagine what you look like. Let them hear you, honey. Go on.”

It’s too much for you. Your elbows give out, your face smushing against the floor as Quaritch uses his grip on your hips to pull your ass back against him, his huge torso plastering itself against your back. His cock is spearing into you so deep that you feel as though you’re going to feel him inside you like this forever, feel the ghost of his cock plowing into you long after he’s gone. You feel every ridge, every vein, every throb.

“Oh god, oh fuck, shit, please!” You wheeze, shuddering as he fucks you into the floor. “I need to come, I need to come-”

You’re cut off from your babbling when one of Quaritch’s big, thick thumbs hooks into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. You moan, closing your eyes and sucking desperately at his stupid blue finger.

“Fuck, you’re hungry for it, ain’tcha.” Quaritch snickers, but he sounds breathless and a little disbelieving. “And here I was thinkin’ you were such a shy little thing.”

Just as suddenly as his finger had pushed its way into your mouth it’s removed, and you almost whine at the loss of it. But then, to your shock, you feel the spit-slick pad of his thumb stroking over the exposed rim of your asshole. He presses inside, the blunt thickness of his fat thumb wiggling inside as your whole body clenches around the intrusion hard.

With an overwhelmed scream, your entire body pulses like a heartbeat and your vision goes white. Your orgasm rocks through you like fire, as relentless and merciless as Quaritch’s rocking hips as he continues to fuck you through the quivers of your release.

“There you go,” He coos at you like you’re a goddamn animal. “Oh fuck, you needed this, didn’t you?”

Choked moans and hitched breaths bubble out of your mouth uncontrollably. It’s like he’s just been waiting for you to come, because now he loses that edge of controlled restraint that he’d managed to maintain. His thrusting is sloppy, uneven – he’s unmistakably nearing his own finish.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, darlin’.” He snarls. “Look at you gushin’ all over my cock.”

You yelp as he buries himself deep inside of you one last time, a rumbling snarl tearing its way out of his throat. You can feel the ridge of his pubic bone against your ass, his muscular thighs bracketing your own. He is rooted to the hilt, burrowing as far as possible, and you choke at the sensation of impossible fullness.

Quaritch hisses like an animal when he comes, and you squeal at the feeling of his hot come splashing inside of you then overflowing. It’s so hot that it feels as though it’s burning, but Quaritch just keeps going, the squelching shamefully loud in the quiet of the room.

Soon you’re forced to reach back and slap at his hip, gasping for breath and whimpering under the onslaught of his spent cock rubbing so insistently at your hypersensitive sex.

“Enough, fuck! Enough!” You wheeze, your forehead dropping down against the floor in surrender.

There’s a pause, and then Quaritch stops moving, his slowly softening cock buried deep inside and staying there. The heavy weight of him feels good, and you go lax on the floor as his big hands hold you up so lazily. Your chest is still heaving as you try to regulate your breathing, and Quaritch makes a couple of condescending cooing sounds to keep you quiet as he rolls you over beneath him.

“Ow, fuck.” You breathe when he pulls out of you, leaving you awfully empty and clenching around nothing as you feel the wet dribble of his come spill out of you.

He pauses, glances down at your cunt. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, but Quaritch seems to be immensely satisfied at whatever he sees. He chortles a soft laugh, and reaches down to stroke his fingers through the sticky mess he’s left between your legs.

Your head lolls on your shoulders as you swat at him, grumbling at the electric shiver that the oversensitivity sends through you. He just snickers at your weak attempt to smack his hands away, unphased, and closes his hands around your waist before bodily picking you up to hold you against his chest.

You groan, unhappy to be moved. “Jesus Christ, gimme a minute.”

He ignores you, snorting another quiet laugh before standing with you, unbothered by the way you hang limp in his arms as he carries you towards one of the desks. His breathing is slightly laboured, and he practically drops you on the surface of the desk as he reaches for the respirator that he seemed to have abandoned when he first came in. His determination to fuck you through atmosphere that he struggles to breathe in is admirable; the Na’vi may be able to breathe oxygenated air for up to an hour, but it can be a challenge and that’s without strenuous physical activity.

Still, you can’t help but snicker yourself.

“What's wrong, old man?” You crow at him, grinning as you lay splayed out and exhausted on the desk below him. “Out of breath?”

Quaritch takes deep breaths from the respirator, clearly trying to regulate his body again after so long without proper air, but he still manages to choke a faintly disbelieving laugh.

“You used to be so sweet.” He mutters, slapping lightly at your thigh. It’s not a harsh smack, just enough to have you jolting a little under him. “What the hell happened, huh?”

“You didn’t look twice at me when I was sweet.” You grumble, reaching down to push the skirt of your dress back down self-consciously. “So don’t go acting like you’re disappointed.”

Quaritch snorts. Respirator abandoned, he leans down and nips at your shoulder, grinning against your bared skin as you jerk and cry out ow, fuck.

“Mm, I like a bit of fire.” He mutters, allowing the respirator to hang down around his neck as he licks over the little bite mark he’s left. “But you’re wrong about me looking. I can’t say I didn’t like those little skirts.”

“Oh.” You breathe, starting to smile. “Okay.” A little flustered now, you start to push yourself up into a sitting position, embarrassed about your spread legs. “Um… where’s my underwear?”

Quaritch grunts as though he doesn’t care for the question in the least. “D’you need them?”

“Yes!”

That big, stupid smug grin again. You’d dearly love to smack it off his face, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He doesn’t make any effort to seek out your lost panties, but you can’t be too irritated with him when he keeps nipping so insistently at the base of your neck, leaving hot twinges of pain-pleasure in the wake of his mouth.

“Asshole.” You say, though without any heat. Your eyes slide closed, enjoying his rough tongue against your collarbones. “Hey. You never told me why you came looking for me, anyway. Was it just to laugh at me?”

Finally, Quaritch raises his head. This close, you allow your eyes to trace over his face; his features are so alien, big and bold and more expressive than he intends. His ears twitch, and you fight back a smile at the sight. Sweet.

“Brought you more of that damned plant water.” He grunts. “It’s on your desk.”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately try to sit up, pushing roughly at his chest. “What?”

Quaritch allows you to push him away, though it’s not without an irritated sort of groan. Still though, he doesn’t look annoyed as he steps back to allow you to scramble off the counter he’s had you propped up on. If anything, his swishing tail reveals his sense of satisfaction.

Your knees nearly buckle when you hop down on the floor, but Quaritch’s enormous hand wraps around your elbow and keeps you upright. You don’t pause to try and regain your balance – you’re too busy trying to stagger over to your own messy workspace, your eyes wide and fixated on the sight of a sample beaker perched atop your desk.

“No way. No fucking way-!” You crow, your face splitting into an irrepressible grin. “Holy fuck!”

If possible, this sample is even bigger than the one that Wainfleet and Fike had smashed all over your notes. You take it in with disbelief, your hands reaching for it eagerly.

“A sample this size will let me do all the tests I need for my dissertation and more,” You breathe, awed. “I can- oh, wow. I’m going to finish my whole thesis. I’m going to get my motherfucking PhD.”

Quaritch’s mouth quirks, clearly amused by your foul mouth. He leans back against one of the spare desks just so he can watch you fuss over the sample he’s brought.

“Do I get something in return?” He asks, and you can feel his big golden eyes dropping down over the length of your legs. His gaze feels even more heated now, as though knowing exactly what’s under your dress has lit some sort of fire in him.

You snort, stepping over to the sample fridge with the beaker clasped very carefully in your hands.

“You certainly do not.” You say archly, hoping to maintain an aura of aloofness as you tug the fridge door open and place your precious sample carefully inside. “As far as I’m concerned, this sample can be considered reparations. If you bring me a sample of panopyra sensory tissue, however… then we can talk about rewards.”

You half wonder if maybe that was too bold, but Quaritch’s next chuckle holds an edge of heated delight. It seems like he wasn’t lying about liking a little fire. You’re so distracted by the careful tucking away of your sample that you jolt when you feel huge blue hands coming to land at your waist, tightening over your hipbones.

When he leans in to murmur in your ear, you shudder helplessly at the rumble of his chest.

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart,” He mumbles, a hand reaching to stroke boldly over the curve of your ass. “And maybe next time we can get going without you wearing this damn fridge as a hat.”

#no one look at me i'm so serious #miles quaritch #na'vi quaritch #quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #recom quaritch x reader #quaritch x human reader #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #awow #avatar 2 #na'vi x human #terato

4K notes · View notes

fourmoony · 11 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚

𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⭒⭒⭒

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯. 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐩𝐢𝐞. 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭.

𝟏.𝟐𝐤 - masterlist

⭒⭒⭒

“Shit – Jamie!”

The sun is shining through the small gap in the curtains, dust molecules illuminated in the bright light. The air is thick with humidity, hearts racing, lips entangled, skin meeting skin and James – oh, James – is setting a delicious, relentless pace that you think might just kill you. You’ve no idea how he does it. Be it his to the dot Quidditch training schedule, luck, or just plain determination, you really don’t care. It’s benefiting you, his inhuman ability to be anything other than extraordinary, and you’re not one to complain, or question, or have any coherent thoughts, really.

It had started slow, just like it always did, and built into the sweetest, most delicious torture you’d ever experienced. James had you, the minute you’d shown up to his empty dorm room, nothing but a pair of pyjama shorts and his quidditch jersey on. He’d been half hard at the mere idea of your arrival, and it had taken him a breaking record of five minutes to have you naked and writhing, moaning his name with your legs over his shoulders, hands in his messy black hair.

James hikes your leg higher up his waist in response to your keening, hips slamming at breakneck speed into yours and your brain short circuits when he moans your name into the flesh on your neck. You’re both sweaty, worked up, getting needier the longer he holds out. He’s been doing it for hours, it feels. Speeding up, getting relentless, dragging you close, close, close, to the edge, just to stop, slow down, ‘take a breather’ as he calls it. Except he knows exactly what he’s doing. And he knows that no matter how much you whine and complain, that you love it just as much.

“Please, Jamie. Please, please, please…”

You know you don’t make any sense; he’s quite literally fucked you into delirium and the only thing you can think of is how good he makes you feel.

“I know, baby, I know. Gonna make you feel so good.” He promises, his hand that isn’t pressed against the headboard comes to grab at the flesh of your arse, lifting your hips just the tiniest bit but oh, gods, does it feel good.

It’s maddening, really, the feel of him on top of you, hot and heavy, and inside you, even hotter, larger, and hitting every single spot that could ever need to be hit. His hips roll into yours; his teeth graze the pulse point by your neck, your legs wrap tighter around him, the hand previously on your arse comes back around to reach between your writhing bodies, attaches itself to the swollen bundle of nerves that’s been swollen and lacking attention for what’s felt like hours.

James gets frantic the louder you get, babbling nonsense, veins on fire with pleasure, head spinning with desire.

It’s dizzying, the drag of his skin against your hard nipples, and you scream when James’ hand slips on the headboard and he forcibly ruts further into you.

“Baby, baby,” James groans, his eyes meeting yours, filled with a bright twinkle only sex can bring about, “You’re doing so well. Always so well.”

James isn’t making much sense either, barely sentences strung together in an attempt to praise you.

With his hand off the headboard, James switches your position, pulling you up and into his lap as he sits on his haunches. His eyes darken at the sight of you, sweaty, delirious, but a blinding light of ethereal beauty. You know he’s challenging you, about to tell you your least favourite words of all, because James is a dutiful boyfriend, he’s attentive and caring and would bend over backwards for you. It’s safe to say that in the year you’ve been together, he’s singlehandedly – through his own actions, and no fault of your own, definitely not – turned you into that of a spoiled, bratty, pillow princess.

“Get yourself off on me, baby,” James tells you, eyes dark, smile mocking.

He knows this only makes you more frustrated, more needy. And you know that’s what he loves; you, begging for him, needy, restless, at his disposal.

It’s mean.

“Jamie, please,” You pout, circling your hips.

He winces, hips twitching upwards, and you smile that sickly sweet smile.

“You want to finish? Do. It. Yourself.” James orders, hand leaving your hip to slide menacingly up your navel, landing on your neck.

He doesn’t apply too much pressure, just enough to have you seeing stars, your hips lifting on their own accord. He feels impossibly larger like this, dragging menacingly against your walls, a delicious form of torture you’ll never, ever tire of. Every nerve ending is on fire, arching into James, his hand holding you up by your neck. It’s filthy, raw, and you wouldn’t dare to have it any other way.

You build a rhythm, loving the way the inside of your thighs are slick, rubbing against James’ every time you return to his lap. James switches from looking at your face, a contorted mix of pleasure and desperate need, and puts his face between your breasts, licking and biting at the skin there. You whine, moving impossible faster.

You’re tired, past the brink of exhaustion and your muscles hurt, and James puts both hands back on your hips, lifts you up and down forcefully until you’re slamming down onto his lap. It’s wet and messy, you feel yourself climbing closer to that edge again and you’ll be fucking damned if James takes it away from you. You speed up, James’ hands help, strong and steadying and your breath hitches when he takes a hard nipple into his mouth and tugs.

“Ohmygod.” He groans around the skin when you clench around him, hips stuttering as you fall into release.

You see stars, and songbirds, hear crashing waves, a white-hot flush of pure pleasure and you scream his name, over and over like a mantra. You continue to rut against James until he follows after you, biting hard against the flesh of your breast, the pain is dizzyingly amazing, as his release washes over him. You fee him spill inside you, hot and white and it makes you giggle deliriously, happy and content.

“I love you,” He breathes, craning his neck to look up at you, “I love you,” He kisses your collarbone, “I love you,” another kiss to the base of your neck, “I love you,” Your jaw, “I love you,” a soft kiss to your lips.

You smile, floating, and press a kiss to his lips, “I love you, too.”

Your bodies are slick, exhausted, trembling with the last remains of pleasure.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.” James says after he catches his breath.

He kicks his legs out from under him, shuffling with you still in his lap toward the end of the bed where he stands. You wrap your legs around him, wincing when his softening member shifts inside of you, he carries you both to the bathroom, giggling and squealing when he swats your arse and sets you down onto the toilet.

The loss of him is debilitating, but with the cheeky smile on his face as he reaches over and turns on the shower, you guess he’s a long way from being done.

James Potter and his never ending stamina.

2K notes · View notes

heavenlyvision · 3 months

Text

Distracted

Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x afab!reader

Wc: 1.3k

Not my usual content, I'm gonna apologise for this but I'm really not sorry.... so... sorry </3 Please don’t stone me, I just want to fuck the big, masked man :<

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, established relationship, vaginal fingering, p in v penetration, cockwarming, no use of pronouns or y/n, i think that's all !!!

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Simon coming home was always something you looked forward to, the days following where you get to spend time together in domestic bliss are memories you treasure when he inevitably has to leave again. It’s a cycle; one you have both gotten used to and never fully adjust to. For example, entering the kitchen and seeing him there makes your heart race with excitement and happiness to see him but also slight shock from forgetting someone else lives with you. Having him home is always better though, you wouldn’t trade these days for the world.

This time round, you had finally gotten him to cave into your will and watch one of your favourite movies with you. One you had seen so often that you could recite back monologues from it in your sleep. Normally, your eyes would be glued to the screen, ecstatic and waiting for each of your favourite scenes to play but you also wanted to watch Simon’s reactions to them.

This has created an unforeseen issue though because your boyfriend is so… distracting. He’s not doing anything, not anything outwardly but he’s in his casual clothes, legs spread wide on the couch and carefully watching the screen, seemingly intrigued by what you’ve put on.

Your head is clouded by thoughts of him, he’s been home for a few days now and you’ve still not been intimate. Too content to be in each other’s presence to have sex but you’re feeling it now. The need that claws up your spine, his absence always has you craving him but you usually calm down when he’s home and you can hug him, touch him.

Even though you’ve been together for a couple years now, you still hesitate to reach out to him, too afraid to upset him or do something wrong – you never have and he’s always been reciprocal to your touch but you still worry. Plus, he genuinely looks invested in the movie and you don’t want to start something when he’s having a nice time. That doesn’t stop you from subtly watching him or slightly rubbing your thighs together though, your need for him slowly overwhelming you the longer you take glances at him.

Simon sighs beside you, he doesn’t look at you as he asks, “What’s wrong, what are you fidgeting for?”

His deep voice shoots straight through you, your thighs clench together, “Nothing, sorry.”

He looks to you out the corner of his eye, his gaze runs over you for a moment, taking you in, observing your body language. He catches on fairly quickly, always knowing how you’re feeling just from a glance, “Come here.” His hand pats his lap.

You shuffle closer but hesitate to get on him, when you don’t immediately sit on his lap, his hands grab you and position you so you’re straddling him. His large hands skate up and down your thighs, caressing your skin.

They move higher, pushing the hem of your shirt up, revealing your lack of shorts. He doesn’t say anything but he smiles smugly and raises his eyebrow at you slightly.

You go to defend yourself, “I’m more comfortable like this.”

“I said nothing,” his hands move back down your thighs again, pulling at your skin as he goes.

You squirm against him, “I know what you were thinking.”

He breathes out an airy chuckle, “I’m certain you didn’t, love.” His fingers tickle against your inner thighs, trailing higher.

You sigh at his touch, “I missed you…”

“Mmm, I can tell,” he comments as his thumb presses into the wet spot on your panties.

A light gasp pulls from you at his touch, your hips stuttering slightly, seeking the friction.

He continues talking, his thumb putting minimal contact on your clit, “I was getting real into the movie, you know?” He says that but his eyes are glued to his hand playing with you through your panties.

You feel bashful, “Sorry…” He pulls his hand away and you want to complain but you feel bad for ruining the movie for him.

“Don’t need you to be sorry,” his tone is gruff, his hand reaches under his waist band and pulls his hard cock out, “Need you to sit on me.” He groans as his hand starts to stroke himself, his cock painfully erect, tip leaking profusely.

“Si–”

“–Lovie, need you to wrap your pretty cunt around me,” His eyes are dazed, not really focused on anything right now, too caught up thinking about your slick heat swallowing him.

You shuffle closer to him and sit up on your knees, his fingers push your panties to the side. He lets out a low groan as he runs his fingers through your wetness, they slip over your pussy, he’s distracted now, eyes intently watching your cunt and how you react to him. His finger slips into you with some resistance, the stretch eased by how slick you are for him.

You almost buckle over; your hands reach out to his shoulders to hold yourself up. He tries to supress it but you can see the smallest hints of a smirk on his lips, he looks to you, “Gone too long, was I?” It’s not really a question, especially since he’s not done talking, “Fuck– you’re so goddamn tight, Mm gonna have to fuck you open…” He trails off, not because he’s done talking but because he’s fucking his finger into you and has gotten distracted again.

The wet noises that your cunt makes for him is obscene, it has you shying away from him and wanting to hide but his hand speeds up, wanting to hear more. You’re whimpering quietly, trying to hold in the noises he’s pulling from you effortlessly.

You gasp out to him, trying to convey your desire, “I need –ah–”

He hums at you, “Mmm, I know…”

His finger pulls from you and you can’t help the pathetic whine the loss has you making, he doesn’t even try to hide his smile this time, shamelessly grinning at your need. You pout at him but that just seems to further his enjoyment.

“Go on, lovie, take what you need,” His hands hold onto your hips, letting you take your time.

You take him in your hand and his chest stutters slightly, your pussy hovers over him. You’re nervous to take him, it’s been a while since you last had him and it’s always a little daunting to take him fully after he’s come back. He’s being ever so patient though, his fingers dig into your hips but he doesn’t move you, he continues to let you do this at your own pace.

You notch his tip at your pussy hole, your stomach flutters with anticipation, slowly you start to take him. It’s slow and it takes you a bit to take his tip, Simon is groaning under you, his fingers digging into your flesh, barely holding onto sanity.

“You need to relax,” his voice is strained, his thumb moves to your clit, rubbing circles into it, trying to help you take him easier.

You sigh on him, your pussy sinking down further, he chokes slightly at the feeling of your tight, hot cunt taking more of him. His head falls to the back of the couch, the way you continue to take him as him seeing stars, the last time he got off being too long ago.

You moan his name quietly when you take all of him, his pelvis pressed to your clit, you grind down into him, his hands facilitate you. Groans get stuck in his throat, his mind swimming with thoughts about you and how tight you are.

Suddenly, he stops your movements, hands holding you completely still on him, he looks you in the eye, “You’re gonna sit here and keep my cock warm while I finish this movie you love so much.”

You whine at him, “Wait, what?”

“Should’ve waited till it was finished, love,” he smirks at you but he’s one hundred percent serious.

He’s going to have you crying on his dick before the film is over, you just know it.

𖦹₊⊹

Thank you for reading :3 i hope you enjoyed (if you're one my mk followers, please be nice to me, I LIKE THE BIG MASKED MAN, SUE ME)

#smut #fanfic #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader smut

475 notes · View notes

soxcietyy · 4 months

Note

Uhuh, I got it, maybe everyone being surprised when yuta deals with you being a crybaby

Like maybe you have a reputation for being a cry baby. A scrap your crying a sad movie crying you store ran out of your favorite drink you holding back tears while telling the clerk "no it's ok"

I imagine this being modern au but do as you want 🤣

Alright alright I think I got it🧍‍♀️

Nobody is surprised when you start crying. You were known to be such a sensitive person and nobody blamed you for it. The jujitsu world was harsh but you tend to cry over the smallest things. That being a sad movie, seeing old people eat alone, seeing stay animals on the streets and worst. Your friends where so used to it that sometimes they watched you cry or waited for Yuta to come along and console you. They’ve never seen it really happen though. Usually they would leave the two of you behind and go on with there mission/day.

Then Yuta had to suddenly leave to Africa and well you were a mess. They had absolutely no idea on how to deal with you. Maki would try to make you feel better by being positive.

"We’ll look at the bright side you saved yourself twenty bucks." Maki said as the both of you watched a 13 year old take the last makeup product you were really looking forward too. It was trending all over Japan and you were dying to get your hands on it. You had to wait for pay day to come in so you could get your hands on it though.

You turned to look at Maki with eyes already watering.

"But I wanted it for days now! What’s a kid going to do with makeup?" Tears start to roll down.

Maki looked at you and then the little girl contemplating the solution in her head."Fine, I’ll fight the little twerp." Maki said pulling her sleeves up.

You quickly grab your arm and shake your head telling her it was fine. Maki panicked not wanting to cause a scene in the store. She then patted your back and continued to say more positive things but nothing seemed to work. At the end you both went home as you cried.

Panda and Inumaki tend to try to make you laugh. As you guessed it doesn’t work. It seemed like everything they’ve done has failed.

Then the next year rolled around and Maki would pray that someone would be able to put up with you. That also didn’t happen sadly. The first time they witnessed you cry was over your Ice cream that fell onto the ground. They all looked shocked and looked at the second years for help.

Today you decided to cry over a failed test grade. You held the paper in your hands as you looked at the biggest 69 smacked on the paper. Gojo made sure to emphasize that you failed by putting a crying cat sticker on it.

Panda turned to see your eyes watering. He slowly turned his paper around to hide his passing grade. "It’s okay y/n I also failed."

You look up at him with such a sad face. "You’re the worst liar!" You cry harder. Everyone knew panda was one of the smartest. Before Maki could even step in to try to help out she was stopped by a hand. They all looked to see it was Yuta who was back. Panda wanted to yell that he was here but Maki punched him in the arm. It was a blessing that Yuta came back early from his trip. She didn’t have to worry about you anymore.

He came in from behind you and gave you a tight hug. Trying to keep your hairs away from your face at the same time.

"Wow y/n you almost passed! You’ve improved so much since I left." Yuta said as he looked at your paper with tear drops all over it. "I already took this test when I was abroad and flunked it. (Biggest lie ever) Do you think we could study together so we can score higher?" Yuta asks looking at you for approval.

You give him a small nod as you wipe your face. you didn’t know who you were talking to but you were okay with studying with someone else. "No more crying okay? You won’t be able to see what you got wrong while we go over it." He pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped your face. He tends to always carry tissue because of you and well it comes in handy. Maki almost jumped out of her seat when she saw you stopped crying.

You finally look at him with red eyes. Then your eyes widen when you noticed who it was."Since when you were back? You where gone for so long and- and I was so sa" You say as tears started to roll down again not being able to finish your sentence. He laughs and hug you tighter than last time.

"I just got back! No more crying y/n, if you stop crying we can go get that makeup product you kept writing to me about." He says as he pats your head.

"About that, it’s pretty much sold out everywhere." Maki said

"Then we’ll just preorder it, or wait till it drops again. It’s not gone forever, for the mean time we can try out new products." Yuta said as he held you. You were still crying but not because of the grade or the product. It was because of how much you missed him and he understood that. He was going to make sure to spend the whole day with you no matter what.

Really short and sweet :)

636 notes · View notes

avidfics · 4 months

Text

Moving On

summary: Soccer player abby finds out you're going on a date and is unhappy about it.

warnings: possessive abby; slightly mean; fluff; some suggestive content; kissing; thighs

a/n: happy new year! this is me manifesting a buff woman for 2024

abby let out a grunt as she pushed past a defensive player. There were only a few minutes left of soccer practice but she still had the energy to continue for another hour. Her team was in a good groove, the sun was out, and her girl was stopping by to chat after practice. She took a split second to squint against the sun to scan the crowd of spectators, and a wide smile broke across her face when she saw you, her girl, watching the practice by your parked car.

She might’ve begun going all out now that she knew you were watching. In the last minute, she helped her team gain another point. “Damn, Abby.” One of her teammates gave a sly look. “Trying to show off for your girlfriend or something?” The rest of her teammates laughed along. They knew you and abby weren’t technically an item, but everyone knew abby had claimed you and she didn’t see a need to correct them. “Nah, no showing off is necessary. My girl already knows I’m the best player on the field.” Her team playfully booed her off the field, as she grabbed her gear and jogged over to where you sat overlooking the field on the back of your pickup truck.

abby didn’t know if she was an ass or tits person, but when it came to you, she loved whatever piece of skin you showed for that day. And today? You wore skimpy gym shorts that had magically crawled up higher on your legs because of your seated position. The damn shorts were so tiny it exposed the flesh at the top of your thighs. She licked her lips as she desperately tried not to imagine taking the fat of your thighs in her rough hands and squeezing them, kissing them to discover any sensitive spots.

Luckily you hopped off the truck bed to greet her and she didn’t have to be distracted by the thought of plush thighs. “Great practice, abs!” You threw both arms around her bulky form in a hug and abby took full advantage, circling your waist and spinning you around. Her core tightened when your giggle sang out.

“Get a room!” The playful jeer is called out by her approaching teammates. “Y/N if you’re unsatisfied by abby and ever want to try another soccer player you just let us know.” You laugh at their exaggerated wink, not seeing abby shoot a hard look at her friends.

Without saying anything, she slings her arm over your shoulder, curling her body into yours in a possessive hold. Your checks flame at the intimate attention. “Please, we’re just friends. She gets enough attention from her fan club.” Even as you try to deny what’s obvious to everyone else, abby’s other hand starts to play with you in little ways that make your thoughts scramble, playing with the hoop of your earring, tugging on a piece of your hair, leaning her head against your head as if suddenly very tired.

You clear your throat and hope no one hears how loud your heart is beating. If it beated any faster you’d need an ambulance. “Actually, please wish me luck, I have a date tonight.”

The silence from the once rowdy group is deafening. Scarier is abby’s sudden frozen movements.

A timid “Congrats” from a teammate is sharply interrupted by the jarring laughter coming from abby. Her once warm presence leaves your side to pace in front of you. Her restless hands running over her ponytail, taking it down, and creating a tumble of hair onto her broad shoulders. “Is this a joke? Because you’ve been funnier.”

You straighten at the outlaudish way she’s questioning your approaching date. “This might be a shock but some people actually consider me desirable and want to date me.” For months you’d sent hints of your desiree for more to abby and in response she’d continue to keep you at arms length. The rejection, combined with the countless girls she actually did fuck, had finally pushed you to your limit so when a girl from another college asked you out, you gave in and said yes.

Her teammates left the escalating sitation in a noiseless retreat. Leaving only you, with wobbling knees, and a very pissed off team captain.

“People?” Narrow eyes make you advert your eyes. “You got a whole roster of people fucking you that I don’t know about?” Before you could stop you pushed at her chest, eyes wide in outrage.

The rebuff seemed to clear abby’s mind because an apology immediately floods out her mouth and she takes several deep breaths to clear her red vision.

Her kinder expression and domineering approaching steps causes you to retreat till your back is flush against your truck. abby’s entire frame blocks you in but she only give an impish smile as she takes both your hands within her grip, playfully yanking them behind her back. “Obviously I know you’re hot as fuck. That’s why I’m so concerned. Just tell me their name and I’d feel alot better about letting you go.”

Like you’d fall for that.

A small chuckle falls from your lips as you pull your hands away and scoot from under abby to get into your car. “abby you’re not ‘letting’ me go anywhere. I’m grown and your not getting their name to cyber stalk them. This is my date and what I decide to do with whoever is none of your concern.”

As you settled into the driver seat, abby began to panic as the feeling of control slipped out of her hands. She stopped the door before you fully closed it and yanked it back open. “Let me at least drive you to the restaurant.” she pleaded.

“None of your concern.” you sang as you moved to push her out the way. But before you could, a hard hand gripped the back of your neck and roughly brought your lips to hers. The shock kept you still as a statue but abby didn’t seem to mind as she took charge and sensuously moved her lips against yours. You could taste the remaining sweat from practice on her lips. Before pulling away she gave a quick swipe of her tongue against your bottom lip and gave a final goodbye peak to your still wet bottom lip. “You’ll always be my concern. Good luck on your date.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson fic #abby x reader

606 notes · View notes

munsonslove · 11 months

Text

Five Times (part one: 1-3)

(18+ only)

summary: A stressful day at work leads to Eddie promising to make you cum over and over until your head is empty.

wordcount: 4.7k

tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, dom!Eddie, established relationship, smut, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, choking, spitting in mouth, hair pulling, biting, squirting, overstim, dacryphilia, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), he’s kinda mean in this but like in a you want him to be a lil mean to you way not like he’s an actual asshole way

a/n: listen. i’ve had a very stressful year and the idea of just being allowed to be dumb and not have to worry about anything is very appealing. part 2 with more smut to come...

Today marked the one month anniversary since your (well deserved) promotion. You could finally say with confidence that your career was more than just taking notes and getting coffee for those in higher up positions. Still, this growth came with hard work, late nights, stress, and snide remarks from the men at the office who chalked your success up to low cut shirts worn around the boss. Which is ridiculous cause you’re not even sure that man had ever seen your clavicle, much less any cleavage.

Thankfully, this stress subsided by your wonderful relationship. Although Eddie loved and respected you, he knew that sometimes the responsibilities of adult life weighed on you like a million tons. He genuinely thought you were one of the smartest and most impressive people he’s ever met, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give you what you needed. And what you needed was an escape from the overthinking and worrying- permission to turn your brain off and give yourself over to pleasure.

There was a tell you subconsciously gave when your psyche craved that escape: when you pass through the entranceway of your shared home and Eddie comes to welcome you at the door, instead of greeting him with a smile and hug, you simply keep your arms limp at your sides as you collapse into him and bury your face in his neck.

That’s precisely how your arrival happened this evening, and Eddie wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you as he tenderly kissed your temple and led you to the bedroom. Along the way, he spoke no words as he helped you strip yourself of the restricting uniform of your day to day life. Heels are abandoned at the front door, a few feet from them a discarded blazer, then a little farther down the hallway was a crumpled pile of nylon that was once stockings.

Now inside the room, Eddie sat you down on the edge of the mattress as his nimble fingers undid the buttons of your blouse and unhooked your slightly-too-tight underwire bra. Once your top half was completely bare, you laid back and lifted your hips up so that he could slide your skirt and panties down your legs in one quick motion.

As you settled into bed and got comfortable, Eddie tossed the worn clothes to the side and looked down at you with dark eyes. After flashing a crooked grin, he climbed onto the bed and rested on his knees. Kneeling before you, he starts laughing quietly.

“Well, well, well,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “Look at this pretty little prize I have all to myself.”

He didn’t permit any talking yet, so you remain silent. Instead, you laid there in anticipation while waiting impatiently for his next move. His calloused fingers leave goosebumps in their wake as he trails them from your belly button to your waist. When they reach the end of their journey, his hands suddenly grip with determination as he moves you how he pleases. Your body is pliant and powerless while he arranges you the way he needs you to be, something that he is glaringly proud about.

“You’re tired of pretending, aren’t you? Pretending you’re not my mindless little doll?” he murmurs with a smirk, and your thighs instinctively twitch to shut from the wave of arousal his tone sends through you. “Well, I doubt I could fuck the stupid out of you, but I can try.”

His assured, unwavering certainty was soul shattering. What once was hesitant enthusiasm is now teetering on full blown alarm when memories flood your brain of your doting boyfriend nearly bruising your pelvis from the valor he exhibited in washing away your bad days with orgasms. That turning in your stomach only heightened your senses, pulling feeble whimpers out of you with embarrassingly minimal contact.

“My pretty girl,” he tutted with a mischievous lilt. “Need me to turn that brain off, huh? How about you let me play with you?”

You nod in response as the butterflies in your stomach turn violent and almost make you feel sick. Finally, all thoughts of whether or not paperwork was filled out correctly and filed in the right places are gone, and the only thing you can think of is Eddie’s burning hot touch on your skin.

“Wha’sa matter? Can’t use your big girl words?” he asks, slurring a bit as the lust clouds his senses. “That’s alright, I’ll do all the talking. Just focus on turning off that brain,” his voice is now growing low and raspy, and you feel his fingers twitching on your waist as he resists the itch to touch you. “That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it? Being my sweet, dumb girl. The only thing you’re good at is being a drooly little mess for me.”

What he’s saying should be demeaning, but it only makes you more turned on. His grip loosens as his fingernails scratch their way down toward your center. When he reaches your mound, just above your slickened lips, he slows down. Obviously, he wants to make you desperate enough that he can watch you squirm.

“Nnngh,” you whine, exasperated. “Eddie, please…”

“Needy fucking slut,” he chastises, but his eyes reveal more amusement than authority. He has to hold back the huff of laughter that threatens its way up his throat as he continues. “You’re gonna wait like the good girl I know you are. You wanna know how I know?”

Your eyebrows pinch together as you try to not cry from the frustration, and you make a small humming noise while shrugging your shoulders.

“Because,” he starts as his fingers finally make contact with your aching cunt. They slide easily along your folds, causing a choked gasp in reaction from you. “Only good girls have wet pussies like this. That’s my proof- good girls have wet, dripping pussies. And you’re always dripping for me, aren’t you, princess?”

“Mhm,” you agree as your legs open wider. The amount of concentration it takes to not buck your hips into his touch is overwhelming, but you manage to bear it. “Oh, please Eds. Need it so bad.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he cooed patronizingly, leaving one short peck between your furrowed brows. “But do you deserve it?”

Your toes are starting to cramp by the force they’re curling in with. “I- I think I-“

“You don’t think, you obey,” he corrects sternly, cutting off your stuttering. “You’re a brainless toy for me to use, don’t you know that?”

“Yes, yes I know,” you moan while nodding your head harder, hoping that your compliance will make him want to speed up his process.

Your plan succeeds, but not as much as you’d ideally hope. Eddie’s curious touches migrate from skimming up and down your slit to rubbing at the very top, effectively granting your clit just enough pressure to have you wanting more. A few stray tears fall from their ducts out of relief, and velvet soft lips wipe the moisture away before you even detected it. The rough pad of his middle finger glides smoothly around the bud thanks to your wetness- pushing it up, down, and side to side with ease. His other hand is pressed flat against the inside of your thigh, both holding your legs open and occasionally caressing comfortingly.

“This cute little button needed some attention, did it? Are you happy now? Done being a whiny fucking brat?” he asks, chuckling mockingly. You’re writhing and sighing, almost too distracted to respond, but you do manage to nod your head. Eddie’s not satisfied with your wordless answer.

“Getting dumber already?” he goes on to add, and his hand freezes between your legs. “I asked you a question, silly girl.” Though trying to portray total control, you can tell he’s suppressing a smile.

“Y- yes!” you supply shakily, your stutter making your panic apparent. “I’m s- sorry. I’m done being a br- brat.”

Eddie tsks three times, as if scolding a pet. The implication of that has you shuddering once again. His hand continues its ministrations. “And what do we say, hmm?”

“Thank you!” you gasp out as his pressure and speed both increase. “Oh, thank you.” Your calves tremble, despite how still you’re trying to keep them.

“God, look how messy this little hole is for me. She’s fucking begging for my fingers. I think she’s gonna cum real fast, how ‘bout you?” he asks, his eyes glazing over as he languidly strokes your sensitive clit. “Stay still now, baby.”

But it’s impossible to not squirm as Eddie pinches and rolls the nub between his fingers. He’s ruthless and tooth-rottingly sweet all at once. You wriggle in his hold, your muscles jerking of their own accord, rutting your hips into his expert touch. Weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, forcing you to still- per his previous instructions.

“I know, princess, I know,” he comforts. “It’s hard to follow orders when your brain is so empty. Just keep those pretty eyes on me. You can at least do that, can’t you?”

You fight to not let your heavy eyelids flutter shut. It’s a struggle, but Eddie’s eyes being laser focused on yours makes it slightly easier. As he continues rubbing your clit so perfectly, his other hand moves to cradle your jaw. His thick thumb frees your bottom lip from where it was trapped between your teeth, and breaks the barrier into your more than willing mouth. He presses down on your tongue, just far back enough to slightly trigger your gag reflex but careful to not cause too much discomfort. Then his hand retreats, breaking the trance that had you fixated on his hypnotic gaze.

You whimper a weak protest as your tongue extends over your chin and attempts to follow his fingers. This effort brings your head a couple inches off the pillow, only to have it slammed back down when he unexpectedly grabs your throat. The cool metal of his rings are a stark contrast to your heated skin. With his palm now pushing into your windpipe, you let out a puff of air in shock and wrap your hands around his wrists.

“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t breathe?” he asks, but the way he says it suggests that he doesn’t actually care. He’s clearly enjoying the way you’re currently clawing at his forearm.

You try to plead for mercy, but can’t find the power to form a sentence beyond weak gasps for air. All you can do is try to blink away the blur in your vision as your head gets hazier and hazier.

He responds with a merciless laugh, then loosens his grip just enough to allow oxygen to enter your lungs once more before leaning forward and spitting into your still open mouth without warning. The force of it hits your tongue and causes his spit to splatter onto the roof of your mouth. You can’t help the volume of the broken moan that involuntarily leaves you. You also can’t help the way your hips buck up- making his fingers slip from your clit, which only turns your satisfied groan into a distressed whine.

“Poor thing,” he hums while putting on a faux-sympathetic pout, his lower lip jutting out sarcastically and his eyebrows upturning.

He leans down to gently kiss your cheek, so light and quick that you barely even feel it. All you can focus on is his weight on top of you, chest pressed to yours with his arm wedged in between so that he can continue lazily toying with your clit, much to your relief. Eddie’s nose trails along your cheekbone until his hot, humid breath is tickling your ear. Lips move against your earlobe as he whispers his next words.

“Do you even realize how fucking pathetic you look right now?” he asks. “You probably don’t care though. Too much of a desperate fucking slut. Say it.”

“I’m a desperate slut,” you immediately comply.

The hand being used to lightly choke you breaks contact for a moment, only long enough for Eddie to push himself up onto his knees, before returning to its place on your neck. From there, he can comfortably look down at you while he continues to squeeze your neck and bring you closer to orgasm.

He grins at you like he’s proud, eyes wet and sentimental. It almost sounds loving the way he says, “That’s right. My desperate slut.”

Everything’s gone fuzzy. Any outside stimulant other than the man on top of you can’t reach your senses. It was like the two of you were covered in a heavy blanket, instead of being in the cool open air of your shared bedroom. The rest of the world felt so distant- a million miles away- that you couldn’t even remember any of the stresses that were previously bothering you. The pressure Eddie is applying to your throat isn’t tight enough to drastically affect your airflow anymore, so he and you both know that this is just the natural effect he has on you.

“Are you there so soon? I’ve already rubbed your mind away?” He sounds almost disappointed as he shakes his head disapprovingly. “We just started. Why do you have to be such a greedy whore?”

You know he’s just playing into his role. You know he doesn’t really mean it, and that he’s only trying to help ease you more into the headspace you crave so badly. But still, you feel the overwhelming urge to do whatever it takes for him to call you a good girl.

“I’m sorry. I can hold it,” you try to assure, without being entirely sure that it’s the truth. The tightness in your stomach is growing at an alarming rate.

“Don’t bother,” he tells you, sarcastically exaggerating a bored sigh. “What, you didn’t think I was gonna let you off that easy, did you? Surely even you aren’t that dumb.” His face leans dangerously close to yours as he emphasizes that last ‘you’, and his voice turns low and threatening. “I’m gonna make you cum a minimum of five times tonight, might as well get one over with now.”

And with that guarantee, you feel the dam break. He never even got around to fingering you, but you had a suspicion that that was next on the list. Rough kneading at your breast and lips once again attaching themself to your pulse point is what tipped you off that he had finally released your throat. Your head was thrown back- giving his mouth easy access- and your knees bent as your thighs squeezed together tight, trapping him there. Though, the quiet sound of your breathy moans and beauty of your scrunched up face made him want to stay there forever, so he personally wouldn’t describe it as ‘trapped’.

“Good girl,” he growls, sounding crazed and cruel. “Look so cute like this. Sound so cute too. Like a fucking pathetic slut.”

His left hand began pinching at your nipples while the right’s movement on your clit remained throughout the duration of your climax, not ending until teary begging for him to stop alerted him to your overstimulation. He decided to allow you a moment to breathe, but only briefly. As your chest rises and deflates rapidly, your earlier suspicion proved true. Eddie’s vow of at least five orgasms was no empty promise, it was an oath. His middle finger slid eagerly down your puffy lips until reaching your entrance, where you promptly stopped him.

“Eddie, wait!” you exclaim, pushing his still determined hands away and attempting to cover your mound with your own. “I can’t cum again so soon!”

He outright scoffs at that, finally tearing his attention away from the area you’re pointlessly failing to defend to stare at you incredulously. “Now princess, we both know that’s not true. Who are you trying to fool?”

To an outsider this might seem mean, but you know that one utterance of your safeword would have Eddie’s dominance melting away in an instant. Truthfully, his dedication to ruin you with a second orgasm so closely followed by the first only excited you more- something that is no secret to him. You were still nervous about what he was going to do to you though, and this was made apparent from the way you crossed one ankle over the other- effectively shielding yourself from his touch.

“Aw, is someone shy?” he asked, feigning sympathy. You nod, but it’s ineffective at changing his mind. “I don’t care. Spread your legs.”

You didn’t set out to follow his order so willingly. His brash way of speaking had your body moving without any input from your brain, shifting each ankle to opposite sides of the mattress and baring yourself to him unabashedly despite your inner modesty.

“You’re mean,” you complained with an exaggerated frown, downplaying the rush of wanting that soared through you.

“Yeah?” he snickered as his hand returned to its spot between your legs, coating the slick from your previous orgasm on his fingers before forcing them deep inside you all at once. “Well you’re wet.”

Without warning, the two middle fingers of his right hand bury themselves to the hilt before curling upward, expertly finding their favorite spot inside you within seconds. The small band on his ring finger pushed past the threshold of your opening, entering into you. It was insultingly obvious the way you could differentiate the cool, smooth metal from his warm, rough skin. You could even feel the ridge where bare skin now became shielded by silver jewelry. That bump and the sensations it caused on your sensitive inner walls were so addicting. The intensity was almost too much to brave, but after all this time you trusted Eddie to know your limits even better than you did.

His free hand finds purchase on your waist, holding firmly as if to silently instruct you to stay still. Whispered curses slip through your gritted teeth, and they only slightly assist you in enduring the direct targeting of your g-spot. While you couldn’t see his expression, you had a feeling the sight of you wiping away the water pooling at your eyes was only stirring Eddie more.

“Keep crying,” he says, trying to sound intimidating but unable to keep the fondness out of his voice. “Not that it’ll get you anywhere, but you look real pretty crying under me.”

“Please, please I wanna-“ you start, only to be interrupted by your own abrupt gasp when he begins moving. He’s pumping in and out of you at a pace that- while not slow- he’s well aware won’t be enough.

“Christ, do you hear yourself? ‘P-p-p-please,” he mocks, mimicking your expression. His condescending tone lacked any compassion, despite the grin that betrayed his features afterwards.

“Please, Eddie,” you try again, hoping that he’ll hear your overwhelming lust and take pity. “I wanna cum on your cock.”

“Oh? What happened to ‘I can’t cum again’, hm?” he asks. He does seem to feel a little sorry for his teasing, however, seeing as he hastens to what he’s discovered in the past to be the perfect tempo for you. “You’ll get my cock when I say you can have my cock and you’ll be grateful.”

All you’re able to do is nod in agreement, being far too weakened to fight back anymore. Eddie’s perfect aim has his fingers finding your g-spot with each forward lunge of his arm, and it’s barreling you toward another orgasm far too quickly. The muscles in your neck move involuntarily, and you steal one last glance at your lover before your head is thrown back completely. He’s watching you, eyes wide with adoration- which would fill your heart if past experiences didn’t tell you that meant for a very long night (and a very sore morning).

The crown of your skull is flat on the pillow beneath your head as a long guttural groan escapes from somewhere deep within. Your fated second climax of the night shows no remorse, stealing all the breath from your lungs and leaving your legs shaking. Eddie also lacks remorse, his fingers never losing speed as your walls clench around them. Arousal gushed over his hand and onto the sheets, leaving a sticky mess that you were too gone to care about. His comforting touch settles over your spasming diaphragm in an halfhearted attempt to help calm you after you start to thrash, but the way he drags your orgasm out with quite a few more thrusts than necessary proves how much he is enjoying this.

“There you go, princess,” he purrs. “Feel all of it, you deserve it.”

It was like your body had become too tight, cramping your stomach from the strong contractions. Simultaneously, it was also as if you were exploding out of your goosebump-littered skin. While somewhat sensing the strain of your vocal chords, you couldn't recognize the voice echoing profanity throughout the room. All you could manage to focus on was the sound of Eddie coaxing you through your comedown, his usual baritone barely audible as he shushed you and stroked your hair.

“Catch your breath baby, nice and slow. We’re not done yet,” he murmured softly, the devious glint in his eyes returning when his promise sent an obvious shiver down your spine.

“Such a good little slut,” he praised, “Probably have no idea how fucking hard you’re making me right now. Don’t have much ideas about anything, really, other than how bad you wanna be fucked stupid.”

“So bad,” you agreed, barely able to comprehend what was being said to you. “So, so bad.”

Confusion floods you when he rolls his eyes at your response. There’s a quiet muttering coming from his moving lips, something sounding like ‘... -proving my point,’ but you’re too caught up in the way he closes the distance between his and your mouths.

Time stills as you allow his kiss to absorb you and melt your mind. You’re not sure exactly how long it took until he determined that you were ready for more, but you suspected that he was purposely granting you time to recover before enacting his next course of action (ever the gentleman no matter how inexplicably turned on him disrespecting you made you feel). He kissed you breathless until that ache in your bones returned, the need for him coming back in full force. After what could have been minutes or hours, Eddie parted from your still desperate body.

He pushed himself off of you leisurely before positioning you horizontally across the bed. Hands sank into the dip of your waist, seizing both sides of your torso and dragging your pelvis to the very edge of the mattress. Then, he fell to his knees on the carpet and hooked your legs over his shoulders. His arms wrap around from the underside of your thighs, holding them in place and leaving no room for resistance. Now that he had you exactly how he wanted you, he mouthed at the delicate skin of your inner thighs- gentle nips and kisses to the left before switching and unexpectedly biting down on the flesh of the right. You yelp at the unexpected sting, and though he was careful not to draw blood, there will surely be a darkened mark replicating the shape of his canines there the next day.

“Is my girl ready for number three?” he asks, smiling up at you looking entirely too sure of himself, yet somehow remaining endearing. “Gonna drain what little is left inside that pretty head. Gonna make you lose some IQ points.”

You’re now completely engulfed in euphoria, the natural high from an overproduction of hormones in your brain is incomparable to any substance you’ve sampled before. While still distracted trying to control your smiling in this loopy state, Eddie takes the opportunity to catch you by surprise. He licks a long stripe up your glistening sex, spanning from your leaking hole to your swollen clit.

Ditzy giggles are interrupted by a choked gasp, and the bed sheets loosen from the corners when your hands grasp at them and pull. This reaction produces a smirk from the man between your legs. You feel his lips stretch wide, the movement slightly lifting your clitoral hood and allowing access for his teeth to scrape against the sensitive bundle of nerves underneath. It’s too much, and you instinctively try to scoot backwards, only to be reminded that he’s holding you in place. Though obviously aware of your attempts to escape his busy mouth, he shows no signal that he plans to ease up.

His technique shifts from long flat licks into stiffening the very tip of his tongue and flicking it back and forth over your clit. He keeps this up until you’re squirming under him, only to relax his tongue once more and allow the muscle to melt against your center. It’s messy and uncalculated, and you can feel his drool dripping down over your ass and wetting the sheets even more. You’re not surprised the simple act of eating you out has Eddie salivating, he’s been obsessed with getting his mouth on you whenever possible since the beginning of your relationship. In fact, for those first few months, it was pretty much a guarantee that he would cum in his pants like a teenager anytime he gave you head.

Like a psychic, Eddie moves away from your clit right as the build up begins. But before you can whine any complaints, he starts fucking his tongue in and out of your hole. When you look down at him through hooded eyes you’re almost shocked at the sight of him completely engrossed in your pussy, his cheeks covered in your wetness with eyes screwed shut. The underside of his nose and his chin press harshly against you as he tries to push his tongue out as far as it’ll go.

He’s moaning into you, clearly enjoying the taste. For a brief moment you feel slightly jealous, wishing to have him in your mouth as well. You forget all envy, however, when he pushes further into you and shakes his head left to right, the vibrations from his moans present as ever.

The force with which his fingers dig into your flesh is sure to bruise the fat of your thighs, but you don’t notice the burn it’s causing until after being released. He looks up at you through his lashes and you watch as his tongue leaves your hole. With a devilish glare, he spits harshly directly on your clit before returning to licking and sucking it, the entire time his eyes never moving from your face. One arm unwraps itself from around your thigh so that he can extend out his pointer and middle fingers before plunging them into you. The other hand disappears to where your eyes can’t follow- but given how his moans picked up in ferocity, you were certain about what he was doing. Not only did his palming of himself make him louder, but it had his tongue pulsating against you and shoving you further over the edge to your orgasm.

All hope of lasting longer was lost when he curled his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, forgoing fucking them in and out to instead massage the spongy spot inside you. This, coupled with the way his lips were now focused on suckling your clit, had you tugging at his curls while you yelled out in pleasure.

This many orgasms so quickly after one another was slightly painful, but in a confusing way that only made you crave him inside you even more. Using your grip on his hair to yank him off of you, you sit up to see him on his knees with a crazed look in his eyes. His entire lower face from his nose down was glistening with the combination of your cum and his drool, and the sheets beneath where you sat didn’t feel any dryer.

“God, baby,” he groans, his voice completely wrecked with lust, “please tell me you don’t need a minute, cause I’m about to bust right now.”

Now that you’re not laying down, you’re able to peer over the edge of the mattress and see his hand at work, rubbing harshly over the zipper of his jeans to try and offer any sense of relief.

“I’m ready, Eds,” you pant out while nodding, still needing to catch your breath.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

2K notes · View notes

moonlight-prose · 8 months

Note

Imagine: Missionary with Din while you hold his necklace between your teeth 🤤 you ain’t getting away from me, boy

YOUR HEART GOT TEETH

a/n: i know you sent in another ask saying you didn't mean for it to be a request, but i started writing it the second you sent it. i just only finished it last night. mainly because my inspo for din has been lacking as of late. although i've been on a small din kick recently which has me going feral over this idea. it's barely even a fic, but i had to write it. din and jewelry is my eternal fucking weakness.

summary: horny thoughts about din's necklace.

word count: 0.9k+

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, biting, p in v sex, din's brain short circuiting, a tad bit of needy!din, unedited and no beta so there's probably mistakes.

Time had slipped away from you the longer you lay there, your nails digging into his lower back and head thrown back. It felt like ages since he came home, practically dragging you into the room with a throaty rasp of what sounded like your name and need you. And who were you to dissuade him? When you were more than willing to be spread out beneath him, his name was a cry that was permanently etched on the tip of your tongue.

“You feel fucking perfect,” he grunted, his teeth sinking into the hot skin of your shoulder.

The spot would feel tender tomorrow, but at that moment you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted. Your walls clamped down around his cock, a garbled moan ripped from your throat as he soothed you with his tongue.

“D-Din—” Your breath caught in your throat, legs trembling as he shifted the angle slightly, striking against something eviscerating.

“Mesh’la,” he panted, hand sliding down to hitch your leg up higher on his hip.

You could feel the cold metal of his necklace press against your chest as he dropped down to kiss you. Licking into your mouth—spit trailing along his chin when he pulled away. He began to speak then. An aimless ramble of how he couldn’t wait to fill you up, to watch you cum on his cock, but your mind had gone empty. The only thing registering, that familiar cold feeling that warmed up against your skin.

The silver of his necklace swayed in front of you. The chain, pristine and perfect even after years of wear. And you couldn’t tear your eyes off it. Could barely understand that he was in fact still talking to you. Din pulled himself up off you slightly and something registered in your brain—flickering bright. Overtaking everything until it practically burned through your body.

Leaning up, you latched your teeth into the chain of his necklace, dragging him back down until his body was pressed completely on top of you. Nearly pressing the breath out of your lungs.

His eyes widened, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and you felt it. The way his hips stuttered as his mouth dropped open. He moaned unabashedly, his thrusts speeding up as he desperately shoved you towards a release—his fingers swirling quickly on your clit. You remained where you were. Biting into his necklace and scratching your nails down his back as your release built and built.

Until something snapped so hard your entire body arched. A shout leaving your mouth as his necklace fell past your lips, dragging along your throat. Something about the metal pressed hotly against you unraveled you even further. Sending you so high you feared you may never come back down.

“Look at you,” he breathed, a tinge of awe in his voice. He shoved his hips forward, sinking deeper until a soft tinge of pain mixed with the pleasure. “You like my necklace in your mouth? Huh?”

You gasped, feeling his arm loop beneath your knee and pull your leg up—pressing you into a position that pounded the head of his cock right against that blinding spot inside you. Another orgasm was building fast, but you could barely get words out to let him know. He watched tears stream down your temples, your mouth open yet no sound came out.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed out, feeling his balls draw up and his stomach tighten. “C’mon mesh’la. Give me another one.”

His hips grinded down, the coarse hair at the base of his cock hitting your clit perfectly—shoving you towards another mind numbing release.

“Din!” you wailed, your thighs trembling in his hold—eyes rolling back as you lost all sense.

“Please, please—” He leaned up, his necklace hitting your lips—the plea sounding deliciously perfect on his tongue. “I need…maker—”

Without fully realizing it you latched your teeth around the metal, tugging until it dug into the skin on his neck, the sharp bite of pain all he needed. He fell apart with a choked moan, burying his teeth wherever he could reach as he spurted into you. That familiar warm sensation now sending a soft rolling wave of pleasure through your spent body.

He panted against your skin, his body hot to the touch, but you still ran your hands down his back—soothing him until he felt well enough to say something. Eventually he raised his head, his brown eyes sparkling and lips pulled up into a knowing grin. A look that made your heart flutter—warmth filling your heart.

“Didn’t know you liked my necklace that much.”

You huffed, unable to stop the smile from pulling at your lips. “Shut up.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, sliding his lips along your cheek. “I liked it.”

His fingers played along your collarbone, thumb pressing against the skin and tracing until he hit the base of your throat. “I’ll have to get you a necklace too.”

Your eyes widened, lips parting as the image of him biting down on your necklace entered your mind. As if the breath was knocked from your lungs, you felt your walls flutter around his softening cock—heat spreading beneath your skin. His grin widened, the look on his face so blatant and loud you practically heard him whisper it into your ear. For a moment you wondered if he had in fact said it out loud.

Yet his mouth remained closed, his hand pressing lightly against your throat as he shifted, thrusting shallowly into your leaking cunt. The message, now loud and clear.

Your turn.

#din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin #din djarin smut #my writing #am i supposed to be on hiatus? yes #should i be doing kinktober? yes #what about it #anon idk if you meant this to be canon or based on one of my fics #so please imagine whatever works

737 notes · View notes

redrose10 · 5 months

Text

Here is chapter 1! I hope you like it. Chapter 2 will come out in a few days. Comments are appreciated!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word Count: 1,693

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

The weather outside did not match the feeling in the conference room. Outside the window you saw the bright sunny sky, not a cloud in sight. You longed for the warmth to touch your skin. Inside this room you felt cold. The walls were a dark cherry mahogany. A marble sculpture of a horse sat in the corner. You’re sure it cost more than a years worth salary for you. You chewed on your lip, a nervous habit you developed at some point. Everyone was patiently waiting for the same person to arrive so you could finally get this over with. Never would you have imagined you’d be in a position like this. Being married off to a man you’d never met. You knew of him of course. Who didn’t? Min Yoongi was the CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the world. He was the sole heir to a large fortune being that the Min family was one of the most powerful and wealthiest families in all of Asia. He was dangerously handsome with an arrogant attitude. A womanizer who was constantly in the media and not in a positive way. Just a few months ago we was caught on camera being tossed out of a club for punching the bartender. The video showed him staggering around so drunk he could barely stand straight. He shouted some choice words before shoving three random women into the back of his Rolls Royce and having the driver speed off. Of course the poor bartender didn’t even file any charges knowing he’d never win against the Min family power and money.

Shareholders started worrying about Yoongi’s ability to lead the company, some even demanding he step down. People were uncertain if they should invest in a company run by a sloppy drunk with clear emotional baggage. Stocks in Min Enterprises began to plummet which meant the Min family money started to dwindle and only then did they decide it was time to step in. Which is how you ended up here, sitting across from Yoongi’s parents and some of the other higher ranking officials at Min Enterprises. They had come to the conclusion that it was time for Yoongi to settle down. He needed to find a nice wholesome woman who could help him clean up his image, turn his life around, maybe have a future heir and turn himself into a well respected family man. The problem with that was that Yoongi had never lasted more than a couple weeks with any woman since he was about 19. Often going for quick hookups with women he met at clubs or random models he got ahold of that just wanted to use his name to further their career. In his mind it was easier. No strings attached. No chance of falling in love. No heartbreak. Just sex and send them on their way.

You were a simple girl. You didn’t come from money or power. You loved flowers, blue hydrangeas were your favorite. You often enjoyed a mug of warm milk before bed or maybe some chamomile tea if you were feeling adventurous. Most of your clothes were thrifted and definitely not name brands. You’d only ever had one serious boyfriend and less than four flings. You were the exact opposite of Yoongi and the women you often saw him photographed with.

Which is exactly why the Min family thought you were the perfect match to save their wayward son and bring a good reputation back to the Min name. You had no one else to thank but your old college roommate and best friend Jimin. After graduation he moved away but you kept in touch with each other. One day you get a voicemail from your friend asking you to come visit him in Korea. After calling him back and him assuring you the trip was all expenses paid by himself you agreed. Little did you know of the secret motive. Jimin had moved to Seoul after graduation, quickly getting a job at Min Enterprises. He started as just an assistant to Yoongi’s assistant. Over time Jimin was able to work his way up and was now a member of the board of directors and one of Yoongi’s best friends. When Jimin heard of the Min family plan he immediately thought of you and threw your name into the contenders ring as a potential suitor for Yoongi. You had recently complained about wanting to get out of your small town and Jimin recalled several instances where you mentioned your ever failing love life and non existent bank account so what better way to get around that than to marry a handsome young billionaire.

Your thoughts were interrupted when someone cleared their throat. Looking up you were greeted by the handsome face of Kim Seokjin, one of the Min family lawyers. “Can we be expecting Yoongi any time today?”, he asked probably more sarcastically than he had planned. As the elder Mr. Min started reaching for his phone the large double doors swung open and swiftly slammed shut as the man you were all waiting for stomped over and took his seat next to you, clearly agitated at having to be there.

You knew that Yoongi was handsome, most of the world knew that, but seeing him in person was different than any photos you’d ever seen. Soft perfect skin, piercing cat like eyes, silky jet black hair that he had started to let grow out. He was wearing a fitted dark green suit that probably cost more than every piece of clothing you owned. His cologne intoxicating, a mix of cinnamon and vanilla. He smelled like comfort and warmth.

When he realized you were staring at him he looked over at you turning to a face of disgust before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the lawyer, “Jin, can we get this over with? I have more important events to attend to.” You watched the lawyer lay out several sheets of paper in front of the two of you. “Right so these are the basics of the contract. It’s pretty standard. The Min family will release an official statement announcing the marriage of their only son Yoongi and Miss Y/N. The wedding will take place shortly after.” You watched as Jin turned to you placing an additional paper down in front of you and pointing to the stipulations as he read them off, “Y/N you will take the Min last name. You will move into Yoongi’s penthouse. You will agree to attend all social and/or professional functions with Yoongi and occasionally you will have to go alone as the Min representative. You will be given a credit card to make any and all purchases for any thing you need or want. And lastly you will uphold a satisfactory image as to not taint the Min image. Also please be aware that a divorce is not an option and the contract will only become nullified in the event that either Yoongi or Y/N were to pass away leaving the other as a widow.” You nodded in understanding while staring down at the list of demands in front of you. Things could be worse you thought but this still wasn’t ideal, especially not having the option for a divorce.

Jin turned his attention over to Yoongi placing a similar paper down in front of him and going over his stipulations which were much simpler than yours, basically don’t get caught with other women and don’t get drunk in public. You scoffed knowing that he would struggle to uphold his end of the contract. You were blindsided though when Jin read off the final stipulation, “After the wedding Yoongi will make an initial donation in his and Y/N’s name in the amount of $5 million US dollars to ‘Little Rays of Sunshine Orphanage’ in Y/N’s hometown. Then he will make an additional $1 million donation every year thereafter for the duration of the marriage.” Your lips turned up into a small smile. You had jokingly told Jimin that you’d agree to this whole ordeal if Yoongi donated a large amount of money to the orphanage that you grew up in. You didn’t think he’d actually get it done but you were a little relieved knowing that at least going through with this was going to benefit many children in need. You made a mental note to thank Jimin later. Deep in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed how Yoongi had looked over at you with furrowed brows questioning that request.

Jin placed a pen down in front of you before clapping his hands together, “Alright now that that’s out of the way the two of you just need to sign and date here and here and we can all go on with our day.” Trying your best to hide your shaking hand you gently grasped the ivory pen taking a deep breath before signing away your life to this man you met less than 15 minutes ago. Handing the pen over to Yoongi he glared at you before releasing a loud sigh and roughly taking the pen from your grasp signing away his name. Once it was done Mrs. Min began to speak but was cutoff by Yoongi loudly pushing his chair back and slamming the pen down on the glass table, “I have places to be.” And with that he stormed out of the room loudly slamming the door behind him. Mr. And Mrs. Min along with the rest of the elders followed not long after giving you a nod goodbye. You looked up to Jin who gave you an apologetic smile. He patted your hand as he continued to pack up his belongings, “He’ll come around Y/N. Just give it some time. He puts on a tough act but underneath that harsh exterior is really a sweet kid who got lost along the way.” Going into this you thought maybe this could actually work out and the two of you could at the very least pretend to love each other. Now, after meeting for the first time, you’re not so sure.

#yoongi x reader #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #ceo au #arranged marriage au #yoongi fic #bts fanfic #suga #min yoongi #yoongi #bts x reader

439 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Proud

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your mothers come to support you at your Arsenal debut

It was to both of your mothers' annoyance that you did not, in fact, follow fully in their footsteps. You'd attended the Linköping academy, rising through the ranks on the youth team until, out of nowhere, you got a call from Jonas Eidevall asking if you were interested in playing on the Arsenal first team.

However, it took a bit of convincing on your part to get your mothers to agree to let you take the offer. You were sure that they had been convinced for years you would somehow end up at Chelsea despite not supporting them on the principle of it being the club your mothers played at.

You pulled your socks up one by one, bouncing your leg as you stared at your cleats.

"You'll do fine," Lina said to you, a hand coming up to pat your shoulder," We're facing Bristol City. Keep your head up. Don't trip. You'll do good, kiddo."

"My mums are in the crowd," You said, your voice barely above a whisper," They're here."

"Magda and Pernille aren't going to be annoyed if we don't win," Lina said," They're just here to see you play."

"That's worse." Your voice was trembling now. "They were annoyed when I signed for Arsenal. I...I don't want them to think that it's a waste for me to be here."

Stina, who had been lingering nearby, knelt in front of you. "Your mums would never think that about you. They're very proud of you. Make the most of this kid because, in a few weeks, we're going up against them."

You rolled your eyes. You didn't need to be reminded of the upcoming match against Chelsea. You just needed to focus on the present - though it wasn't exactly something you wanted to do.

"Get your shoes on," Stina said," Let's go get warmed up and have a good game. There's no need to stress."

●～●～●～●～

But, apparently, there was a need to stress because it seemed that the Bristol girls had decided you were somewhat of a threat from your position in the midfield.

You crashed to the ground again, just managing to get your leg out to kick the ball towards Katie, who started her run towards the goal.

You held back a groan of annoyance as you stood, pulling your socks back up and dusting off your shorts. You didn't bother to look up into the crowd, towards where you knew that your mothers would be watching.

You were terrified of disappointing them.

They didn't have to let you join Arsenal. They could have told you that uprooting your life in Sweden was a bad idea and you would have to wait until you were eighteen. They could have easily told you that Arsenal wouldn't be a good fit for you, that if you waited just a bit longer you could join them at Chelsea.

But they didn't.

They let you join Arsenal even though they detested the club with all their might.

They let you wear the red jersey with pride.

You didn't want to let them down.

You lined up for the corner, right by the back post near Leah. You were sandwiched between two much bigger defenders and glanced around nervously, playing with the hem of your jersey as Katie got set up.

It was a decent cross in from Katie and you jumped. You got about a head and a half higher than your defenders. The ball hit your head and soared over the goalkeeper's outstretched hands, landing smoothly into the net.

A grin lit up your face as Leah bounded over to celebrate, almost completely crushing you in her arms.

"Come on!" You vaguely heard Katie yell in celebration as Stina and Lina hugged you close, hands coming up to mess with your hair.

You snuck a look at the big screen, feeling emboldened by your goal, to see your parents screaming in celebration.

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

Your Momma was on her feet, clapping as your Morsa pumped her fist into the air. The camera picked up that she was saying something but not the actual words.

But you weren't focussed on that.

Instead, you were focused on how both of them were wearing an Arsenal jersey - your Arsenal jersey. Your Arsenal jersey with your name and your number.

"Come on, kid," Katie said, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you both walked back to your position," We've got a game to finish."

●～●～●～●～

For your debut for Arsenal, nothing could have gone better than the win that you got.

You were riding high as you scampered over to the tunnel just as your mothers walked through, having been escorted down to see you by security.

"y/n!" Momma said warmly, opening up her arms for you to crash into.

"Did you see?" You asked excitedly," Did you see? I scored!"

"You did score," Morsa said as she approached, kissing the side of your head," I'm so proud of you, baby. You did such a good job."

You grinned up at her, eyes darting between her and Momma. "You must be..." You tugged at the bottom of their shirts. "Because you're wearing an Arsenal jersey. I never thought that I would see the day."

Morsa rolled her eyes. "Well, our love for you supersedes our hatred of Arsenal."

"Did Momma tell you to say that?"

"No comment."

"Magda was very willing to put it on when she found out that I bought some," Momma said, pinching at your cheek like she did when you were younger," How could we not want to support this cute little face?"

She laughed as you tried to squirm away. You didn't get very far before you were wrapped up tight in your Momma's arms again, easily sagging against her.

"No, but seriously, how much did you have to pay her?" You asked," There's no way Morsa wore that willingly."

Magda gasped dramatically, a hand coming up to rest on her chest. "Honestly, I don't know how we've raised such a disrespectful young lady, Pernille," She teased," To think that our own daughter, thought that we wouldn't wear her jersey to support her."

You rolled your eyes. "Just last week you told me that you wouldn't be caught dead in an Arsenal jersey."

Magda scoffed, hand coming up to mess with your hair. "Don't make up lies!" She exclaimed," I believe I said that I would wear an Arsenal shirt over my cold, dead body."

"That's the same thing! Momma, tell her that's the same thing!"

Pernille just laughed though, squishing you between her and Magda. "Stop fighting you two," She said," Let's just be happy, alright? y/n did a very good job today. Keep it up. We're so proud of you."

"Yeah, kiddo," Magda said, pressing another kiss to your head," So proud of you. You debuted and scored and won on all the same day." She pulled you a little closer. "We're so proud."

"Proud enough to wear my jersey?"

"Always."

"Well, well, well," Came a teasing voice from behind you as Momma laughed and Morsa groaned as Stina wandered closer," Is that Magdalena Eriksson I see? Wearing an Arsenal jersey?"

"Shut up."

"Why don't you ever wear my Arsenal jersey, Magda?"

You stuck your tongue out at her. "She's not as proud of you as she is me."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

688 notes · View notes

jackhues · 6 months

Text

karma - auston matthews

notes: this is based off of @matthewshisch's idea (karma is the guy on the leafs)! so s/o to her <3 also, reader is a singer :)) AND gif not mine !

likes are good, reblogs are better!

being a celebrity meant that no matter what, one thing would always be a fixed thing in your life. and that was the rumours.

one week you were dating a new guy. the next, you were engaged to some kid from your hometown. the next week, you were back with your ex.

no matter what, the dating rumours always flew around you. maybe the fact that you never made it public with anyone fuelled those even more. whatever the case, it was funny reading them.

especially when you thought about what you had planned for tonight.

a knock sounded on your door, followed by a familiar voice, "did someone order some flowers?"

you couldn't help the smile growing on your face as you made eye contact with auston in the mirror.

you were in your dressing room at the stadium, getting ready for the opening night of your multi-month tour. you'd worked hard to get to where you were now -- one of the most successful female artists in the world.

and right there by your side, supporting you for the past year, was none other than auston matthews, your boyfriend. you'd met at a leafs game years ago, but he'd only reached out to you just over a year before. ever since then, the two of you kept your relationship under wraps for the most part, doing your best to just enjoy your time together without the media's comments.

you'd talked about going public before, but for the most part, decided to let life take it's course. of course... tonight would be a pretty big surprise.

"hi, you made it," you got up from your chair, sinking into his arms for a hug.

"i wouldn't miss this for the world," he responded, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "it's my girl's big day. first tour in almost three years. nothing's gonna stop me from being here."

you grinned stupidly to yourself, finding auston's words so comforting and sweet. even after a whole year, he managed to make you feel giddy.

"i'm really happy you're here," you whispered, pulling away. "oh! i've got a surprise for you, but i can't give it to you right now. i'll give it after, okay?"

"a surprise for me?" auston repeated. "it's your day."

"hush, i wanted to do it," you said.

another knock sounded on your door, and your assistant, jenny, poked her head in. "y/n, we've got to start in ten. let's go. auston, mark's got your seat saved. head over quick, or someone'll spot you."

"that's not a big deal," auston waved it off. "if someone spots me, they spot me. it's not the end of the world."

"well, fact remains, we need y/n right now," she said. "c'mon, you can have her back when she's done her show."

"i'll see you soon," you kissed auston, before following jenny out to your position.

you adjusted your earpiece, waiting for the lights to dim. as soon as they did, the platform you were standing on moved higher, allowing you to enter directly on stage.

the lights turned back on, and the crowd went wild.

"let the show begin," you whispered to yourself.

---

"'cause karma is the thunder," you sang, "rattling your ground. karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter. karma's gonna track you down."

the crowd waved their flashlights in the air, following you as you continued dancing to the beat of the song, singing along. getting closer and closer to the surprise you planned for auston.

"step by step from town to town," you continued. "sweet like justice, karma is a queen. karma takes all my friends to the summit..."

you paused for half a second, allowing production to ready themselves and for the crowd to pay attention to the small change.

"karma is the guy on the leafs, coming straight home to me!"

you stomped on the mark, blue sparklers going off on either side of the stage -- matching with the colour of your dress and the leafs' colours.

the crowd screamed as you continued your performance, losing their minds at the confirmation that you and auston were dating.

"cause karma is my boyfriend," you locked eyes with auston in the crowd, noticing him smiling widely to himself as people nearby recorded the interaction. winking at him, you continued your song, "karma is a god."

the crowd continued chanting throughout the song, no one truly getting over the lyric change you'd done.

you had a feeling there were gonna be rumours about this for a while.

---

tags : @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv , @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 , @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj

join my main taglist!

#naqia writes!#auston matthews #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews x oc #auston matthews fic #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews x y/n #auston matthews imagines #auston matthews blurbs #toronto maple leafs x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl #nhl one shot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey one shot #hockey fic #hockey

585 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

camelarcher14

Без названия

pamy92

Pamy92

dandyandiepeterson

andie peterson

sumanwebtunix-blog

Webtunix AI - BI Artificial Intelligence Companies

fuckyeahf1drivers

Formula 1