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dean-a-mean-tae · 2 months

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Stray Kids as Hybrids

WARNINGS: Minho and Felix are "defect" hybrids. There's cussing in this. I got the information from research, so if you're an animal "expert" respectfully correct me.

Master list | Not requested, but I don't care.

Chan (Grey Wolf)

He has a grey tail with grey ears that have a black rim.

His fur is extremely fluffy, and he sheds a lot.

In his human form, he has curly hair that's so grey it almost looks white.

Though he has a ton of fur, he doesn't feel the heat.

He needs a lot of nutrients.

He'll eat over 13 pounds of meat at least once a week.

A "healthy" amount of meat for a human is 23 to 33 ounces per week. There are 16 ounces in a pound.

You can do the math yourself.

He's never gone over 12 days without consistent meat intake.

You gotta feed him.

Good luck. 13 pounds = 208 ounces

He won't tell you he's hungry, but you can hear his tummy from across the planet.

In his wolf form, his ears stand up and point forward.

In his human form, his ears just do what they want.

Contrary to popular belief, wolves barely bark.

Whines can be a sign of affection or distress.

You need to pay attention to the signs and what's going on to know the difference.

His growls are warnings, and his loud ones are when he feels threatened.

His quiet growls are playful.

Chan has and will go over to Minho or Seungmin and put his paw on them. IYKYK

the pictures of those 2 wolves are hilarious

Minho (Tiger)

Unfortunately, Minho is considered a defect.

He looks like your stereotypical tiger.

It's just the tip of his tail is white instead of black

In his human form, he has brown eyes that turn yellow when he's in a bad mood

His "defect" is his hair. It's dark brown which makes the orange in his ears stand out.

Believe it or not, he prefers to come out at night.

He doesn't mind the day as long as it isn't hot.

Occasionally, he'll sunbathe, but it's seemingly random.

He, unlike most tigers, doesn't like water. He can take showers and baths, but big bodies of water are a no.

He can't see the bottom. He isn't getting in the water.

He still likes the knowledge of having access to a lake. Preferably a private lake.

His animal form is almost 9 feet at a weight of 650 something pounds. The weight is healthy for his tiger form.

If you thought Chan needed a lot of meat, then Minho is a nightmare. ;-;

Tigers require 88 lbs per week. :)

Since he's a hybrid, he can eat at least 75 lbs. Which is 1200 ounces...

His weight is perfect for snuggling, but his weight is painful if he lays on you.

He doesn't like roaring because it's loud. He grunts and uses chuffs to communicate.

If you are ever cold, just lay on him.

Tiger fur can get so hot that steam might come off their fur when in the snow.

He isn't very sociable and prefers his own space. He doesn't mind you or the boys, but it's obvious if he doesn't like someone.

You know that thing cats do with their tail when they feel mischievous?

The tip of the tail starts flicking but everything else is still?

That's Minho.

You always know when he's done some stupid shit or is about to

Changbin (Hare/Jack Rabbit)

He has brown fur with a white tummy

He gives off Thackery the hare from Alice In Wonderland 2010 vibes

He thumps, in both human and animal form, when he feels endangered or if he wants something

Usually, it's because he wants something

As an animal, he does the binky thing where rabbits jump high in the air

He only does it when he's extremely happy

Sometimes, his legs kick off too high, and he falls forward, like in the picture on the right.

When he's angry, he'll sit on his hind legs with his paws up like he's about to start boxing

When he's annoyed, he'll flick his feet and walk away

Sometimes, he'll kick whatever or whoever is irritating him (like in the first picture)

If he starts nibbling on you while in animal form, it's a sign of affection

Speaking of nibbling, rabbits eat 2-3% of their weight in vegetables.

He's a big boy, so... yeah... have fun. :)

Side note, he's very cuddly.

He rivals Jisung in his attachment to you

He will change into his animal form so it's easier for him to be close to you

Sometimes he'll go flying around the room

Kind of like the zoomies but for bunnies

He is a little dramatic

When he's really relaxed and feels safe, he'll flop over

If he's in animal form, he just does it. Doesn't matter where he is

If he's in human form, he'll flop on the nearest soft object or on the nearest person

Hyunjin (Ferret)

His fur is mostly brown, but he has 2 white rings of fur on his face with a brown spot under one of his eyes.

In human form, his hair is brown, and his animal ears have a white rim.

He's so hyper.

If he isn't running or jumping around the room, he's asleep in a dark space.

Probably under the covers or in a drawer somewhere

Ferrets eat 5-7% of their weight a day.

As a hybrid, he can eat 4% of his weight a day and still be considered healthy.

I recommend just feeding him 5% to be on the safer side.

Ferrets have poor vision. Unfortunately, Hyunjin has poor vision in both his forms.

He wears contacts in human form.

He will snuggle under your clothes and against your skin

If you have a bigger chest, he'll lay between your tits/pecks

If your chest his flatter, then he'll curl up on the left side so he can hear your heart better

When he wants to play, he'll run at people and then quickly run off

He'll keep repeating this until they get the message

When he's angry, he glares and hisses at whatever is causing his anger

He makes cute chitter noses and sniffs when he's curious

Just like other ferrets, he squints when he's sick

Don't get scared if you try to wake him and he doesn't move.

When he sleeps, he's GONE!

He won't wake up until his body is ready.

I like the idea that he scrunches his nose when he's confused

Like genuinely confused. Not "What are you doing?" Confused

I'm talking "What the hell is this thing?" confused

Shit you not! If you have salty skin or a hybrid safe lotion on, he'll lick you. Both in animal form and in human form

He has to be near sleep to start licking you as a human, though

Ferrets kiss, by the way

It's how they show affection

So don't be surprised if you get grabbed and you feel thick lips smack your cheek

He's just giving you a little appreciation, that's all :)

Sometimes, Hyunjin likes to be difficult in his human form

So, like a ferret, if he wants something, he will stare at you.

When you acknowledge him, and you will, he'll repeated glance at what he wants

He refuses to verbalize it until you either get it correct or he's tired of you guess incorrectly.

All just depends on his mood and how generous he's feeling that moment

Ferrets with splay out and sigh when they're sad

It's so fucking cute

Hyunjin does the same thing but on top of you

If you're working on something, like a laptop or iPad, then he'll flop onto that.

Or he'll flop onto your book or something

When you're wearing a hoodie, he'll hide away from the others in your pocket

So make sure it has the one pocket thing and not 2

He can still fit in the smaller ones but he wants the space

Jisung (Squirrel)

He is a ground-dwelling squirrel.

He is usually found sitting on Tiger Minho's head.

Like other squirrels, he is terrified of owls

"Why would someone need to look that scary?! Or turn its head that much?!"

Squirrels do this thing called caching. It's where they find and hide food.

I shit you not! He hides so much food around the house.

He doesn't need a lot of food, but he will gladly stuff his face full.

If you have to travel, then take him with you. He loves to travel and hates being left by himself.

Doesn't matter if you're leaving him with the others. He wants to go with you.

Sometimes he'll sit directly on top of you or pressed against you.

You have no personal space.

If you don't like physical affection, let him down gently please.

He doesn't want to be the cause of your discomfort, so tell him in the most fragile way possible

With that being said, he will use his face to get out of trouble

Quickly turning into his animal form and acting cute so you won't be angry

If that doesn't work, then he's dipping

I'm talking hightailing it out the room and into the backyard

You won't see him until dinner or it's bedtime

Speaking of bedtime, he wants you to tuck him in

So please do it. Give him a kiss on each cheek and then one on his forehead and he'll be good to go.

DON'T TUCK THE BLANKET IN

It makes him feel trapped and like he's in a cage.

Makes him more likely to have nightmares, too.

Felix (Ginger Cat)

Felix is also, unfortunately, considered a defect.

His fur is a golden orange color with lighter stripes.

His eyes look green in the sun, but they're amber.

His "defect" is also from his human form.

His hair is blond like the strips, so his ears stick out. His freckles are also, unfortunately, considered a "flaw."

Most people think when a cat rubs its head against you, it's a sign of affection, which it is, but it's also them marking their territory.

They're scenting you and showing ownership over you.

It's how cats show pride in their belongings :)

If you let him out of the house to hunt, he will return with "food" for you.

He doesn't really think much of it. It's just his cat's side telling you you're family.

I guarantee you'll walk in on Felix either biting the shit out of a toy or him chasing Hyunjin around the room.

Did you know that cats knead because of their early days of nursing?

Kittens would knead at their mothers to encourage milk production. Adult cats knead to show content or to calm down.

Think of it as Felix feeling safe with you.

Felix is the definition of "If I fits, I sits"

If you're curled up on the couch, then he's curled up in the space behind your knees and thighs.

Small spaces make cats feel safe, so be sure to give Felix spots to hide in.

It helps with his natural instinct to ambush.

If Felix stares at you with thin pupils, try not to stare back.

It's his inner cat on high alert, and it could take that as you threatening him.

Meanwhile, slow blinks are kitty kisses.

If you slowly blink back at Felix, he'll do it repeatedly if he's in cat form. If he's in human form, he'll latch onto you and give you cuddles.

If Felix's nightly zoomies irritate you, feed him before you go to bed, make sure he tires himself out before bed, or get him a food puzzle.

Nightly zoomies are leftover energy mixed with their instinct to hunt during the night.

Airplane ears!

If Felix's ears are just sitting up, then he's listening to his surroundings. If his ears are flicking around, then he's agitated or dealing with anxiety.

Either peacefully help him or leave him alone. If he's in cat form, then leave him alone. He'll come to you if he wants to.

Felix knocks things over only when he is bored, as other cats do. It fascinates him to see things topple over. If you want Felix to stop, find a way to entertain him.

When he flops onto your things, it's him scenting your stuff to show you're his and a sign he wants attention.

When the tip of Felix's tail twitches it can mean he's curious or he's hunting. It'll go away when he calms down.

Seungmin (Golden Retriever)

Golden Retriever

A sassy, playful ball of golden fur. He needs frequent exercise and sheds a lot.

Unlike your stereotypical golden retriever, Seungmin's fur is more soft wheat than golden yellow.

His floppy ears blend with his hair when in human form.

Seungmin doesn't like to be left alone. He won't tell you to stay. He will follow you around.

Seungmin doesn't actively seek out strangers. If someone tries to pet him, then he'll move away.

He also doesn't jump on people and hates when others jump on him.

He's not as social as your average Golden Puppy.

I recommend having a big yard for him to run around if you don't have one for the bigger animals.

Please make sure you feed him the proper amounts. He won't hesitate to raid the fridge if he's hungry.

When he grabs things with his mouth, he's extremely careful.

Softly grabbing your arms or a book to move it out of the way.

He'll share his food with you if you beg enough. He won't actively go out of his way to feed you unless you're ill.

If he's being "Destructive" it's because he isn't stimulated enough.

He needs more mental and physical exercise.

He doesn't have separation anxiety unless you decide to give him a terrible backstory on how you found him.

Otherwise, he's pretty confident that you'll come back home.

If something comes up, you'll communicate the issue and a general idea of when you might be home.

If you don't, he'll be pissed.

It's like breaking a pinky promise. Don't do that.

He'll bop you in the face

Jeongin (Fennec Fox)

Fennec Fox

He's got big ass ears and they grow to accommodate his head in human form (Minho thinks it's hilarious)

He's got a cream color hair with white streaks in them

You can barely see the streaks, but the others tell you they're there

He's such a smart cookie until he gets in his animal form.

Then it's like he lost all brain cells except one. That 1 brain cell alternates between Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jeongin. Occasionally, Jisung will get it.

He kind of just rolls around

He's just there, chilling in the silence or the chaos

In animal form, he'll curl up on your lap or on the bed

If you're in an office, pull up a chair next to you and he'll lay in that instead

He may think you're mad at him, but just giving him rubs or head pats and he's good

He's kind of like a cat

You have to gage his moods

If he doesn't want to be touched, he'll look at you as you touch him like the picture on the left

Just "Mittens off, human" paws crossed and everything

Buy him clothes for his animal form. PLEASE

He loves them

Go to Pinterest or something and look up fennec fox in clothes or something and it's so flipping cute

You know that dolphin screech Jeongin does? That but in animal form...

The picture on the right for the header of this post?

That's him when he has too much energy, but no thoughts to put into action

As a human, he's like your average Jeongin, but with big ass fluffy ears and tail.

Sometimes he knocks stuff over with his tail and he's so sorry

After something crashed, you can hear him whine in the kitchen from your bedroom

The others don't tease him as much as they could because they know he's genuinely sad about it

Not insecure, but definitely annoyed with himself for messing something up again

Reassure him please.

Don't make it too obvious because then he'll shut down and tune you out

Not intentionally, it's just his brain's self defense.

It doesn't want to be reminded of his mistakes.

It's the main reason why he likes staying in his animal form.

This was fun

©️DEANAMEANTAE2024

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mediumgayitalian · 2 days

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“What are your parameters for loving me?”

Careful to keep her head locked forward, Naomi glances over at her son. Will’s picked-bloody fingernails scrabble at the worn bandage around his wrist, twisting until his knuckles turn white. The car shakes with his violently bouncing leg, out of time with the shuddering engine and rumbling dust roads under the wheels.

“There aren’t any.”

“There have to be — some.” The bandage is longer than she thought, unspooled in his lap. He winds it back up again quickly, hands blurring; darting around his wrist, tapping on his knees, flexing and locking, flexing and locking. “I mean, what if I became a misogynist?”

She snorts. “I think you’re good, honey.”

“No, Mom, what if? Think about it for real. You’d stop loving me, right?”

“I might knock you around a bit, but it’d pretty hard to stop loving you completely,” she teases. She pinches the stubbornly-clinging baby fat of his cheeks between her knuckles, ruffling his hair when he ducks away.

“Seriously, Mama.”

“I dunno, Will. I’d send you to work for your Auntie Di for a while, probably. Reckon she’d straighten you out good.”

“Okay.” He nods, twice to himself, chewing on his lip. The bandage is wrapped around his elbow, now, pulled tight enough that she can hear the groan of his joints. “Okay. What if I killed someone?”

“Be a pretty hefty secret for the two of us.”

“An innocent person. Cold blood, just because I wanted to.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could, Mom. People are — unpredictable.” He picks at a hole in his shorts until it’s wide enough to slide three fingers through, pulling the bandage in after them. It looks yellowed next to the green of the fabric, worn. “Sometimes you think you know someone but you don’t.”

“I know you.”

She pushes on her turn signal, slowing to a near stop. Will’s twitching fingers unconsciously synch up, cri-tap, cri-tap, cri-tap. The rusted rims groan as her tires amble around the bend, quieting as she lurches forward. They both duck as she hits a pothole, narrowly avoiding the warped ceiling.

“Cold blood, Mama.”

“I’d — it would scare me, I guess.” The next few potholes are smaller — she can avoid them with some manoeuvring. A mouse darts out onto the road, rushing out from the surrounding cornfields, and she slams on the break, thrusting her arm out to the passenger side. Will’s hands come to cup over her forearm as he slams into it, grunting softly. The mouse sprints across the rest of the road, tail swishing behind it, disappearing into the stalks. She settles back into her seat, brushing across Will’s seatbelt as she does, and presses the gas again. “More for you than of you. For what would happen if someone came knocking.”

“You wouldn’t report it?”

“No I wouldn’t report it, Will, Jesus.”

“But I — but I did something evil.”

“This is a hypothetical, baby.”

“And in the hypothetical. You’re —” He scrubs his hand down his face, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re a good person. You have — morals.”

“I’m a person, Will.” The GPS beeps at her — twenty-five miles to the Tennessee border. “And I’m a mother before that.”

“So if I — you would just — just like that? You’d — forgive me?”

“I’d love you,” she corrects.

“But you wouldn’t forgive me.”

She shrugs. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“So how do you know you’d still love me?”

“Because there’s nothing you could do, baby. I mean it.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even if I was a bully? Or a landlord? Or if I — liked boys?”

He says it quickly, or tries to, but he stumbles over his words, tripping over the syllables. Naomi sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it hard.

“You would still love me, if I — if I —”

Keeping her movements steady, she removes her boot from the gas. Will glances, fast, at her tightening knuckles on the steering wheel, looking quickly away. She guides the car to the shoulder of the road, pulling into park, and kills the engine, unclipping her seatbelt and turning ninety degrees to face her son. Will crowds into the corner of the seat, hunching in on himself, shoulders tense and curling, hair failing over her lowered head.

“Oh, Will.”

His body shakes as she pulls him into her, hands trembling so bad they spasm, twitching out of the fists he makes. She shifts until both of her arms wrap tightly around her torso, ignoring the burn of the trench, tucking his forehead into her collarbone, dropping her lips to press against his temples, his cheeks, the crown of his head.

“It’s okay, baby.”

“It’s — not. I’m still, I can still —”

“Sh.” His tears drip onto her shirt, her skin. He chokes back a sob and she tightens, reflexively, pulling his whole body even closer to her, somehow, making space for his too-long legs, knees hitting his chest, feet dangling off the seat, gearshift shoved into his thigh. His chest heaves with the effort of keeping his cries locked up in his throat, hidden behind clenched teeth, squeezed shut eyes. His fingers cling onto her shirt, twisting the fabric so hard it warps. Her own fingers clutch desperately at the ridges of his spine, the inside of his elbow; squeezing, holding, bruising. His voice is rough as raw grit and reedy as pond scum, barely above a whisper.

“I like boys, Mama.”

“I heard you.” She rests her forehead on his shoulder, her own breaths shuddering. “I heard you, sweetheart.”

“I like — a boy.”

“Okay.”

“For a long time.”

Her swallow constricts her throat, shoving the air back in her lungs. How long, she cannot bring herself to ask — when was it, exactly, that he decided he could not trust her with this? When did she lose that privilege? Was it when he started protecting her from the pain in his life, or before? When he lost everyone close to him at once, or when he broke down and told her about it? When was she no longer the person he ran to when he was scared, nervous, afraid?

He used to come to her for everything.

“I love you,” she whispers, voice wet as it slides against the lump in her throat. She squeezes him again, and this time, he squeezes back, pressing his face into her skin. “Will Solace, you are what keeps me going, do you understand that? Come up here, baby, look at me.”

His eyes aren’t hers. He takes after his father, really; after his older brother once upon a time. But he speaks like she does and smiles like she does and stands like she does, and when he cries he gets that same look, like the ocean has emptied itself inside of him. She cradles both palms to his wet cheeks, thumbs pressing under his eyes, kissing his forehead, his cheekbones, wiping the tears away.

“Fifteen years long you’ve been the light of my life. I need you to understand that, Will. I have never loved anything like I love you and there will never be anyone who comes even close. There is no hypothetical, no situation, no anything that could change that. There are no parameters. None. You understand me?”

“Everything stops,” he croaks. “Everything has a limit.”

“Not me,” she says firmly. “You ain’t a baby no more, baby, but you’re gonna have to pretend for a moment that I know everything again. I am telling you that there is no boundary. And I am not giving you the option to disagree. You are my son and my sun and that’s final, Will. That’s final.”

His face crumples. She pulls him close again, sighing, letting him curl up in his lap like he’s ten years younger than he should be, instead of the ten years older he acts. She runs a hand through his knotted hair and another down his back and presses her lips to his temples, holding him every place she can reach, and rocks them, even though there’s no room to do it, humming slow and low under her breath.

“We’ll get there,” she promises, tapping a beat on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Okay?”

He nods into her neck. “Okay.” His voice is small but not cowering, thankfully; small like he’s hiding in her instead of from her. She fights the urge to sag into him, to burst into tears of her own.

“I love you, Will. No matter what and forever.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

#naomi solace love of my life #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #will solace angst #naomi solace #naomi solace & will solace #hurt/comfort #autistic will solace #coming out #my writing #fic #longpost

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fixmyfeathers · 4 months

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Strong fingers wander around back, fingertips kissing your skin and leaving warmth on the places they’ve touched - stopping at the small of your back eventually, running little circles around it until that stops too. Only to press you closer to him, to his chest that vibrates with his deep, content purring that he couldn’t seem to stop since yesterday.

Warm breath fans against the top of your head, his nose nudges your temple and now you feel warmth against your cheek. His tail trails up and down the leg that is wrapped around his hip. Warmth blooms in your chest when a whispered good morning yawntisup reaches your ears and his nose now nudges your own. His eyes are half lidded when you finally open your own and the smile he allows you to see might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever come to witness. It resembles the way the flora starts to light up when it’s past eclipse and the moonlight shines on all living being. It is natural, meant to be like that and so so gorgeous.

His large hand that once pressed you closer comes up to cradle your cheek that isn’t lying on the ground. It is now that you realize that you are still one, still connected in a way only the Na’vi know and it is so overwhelming. You feel everything - from the way his heart starts beating faster when your own tail comes up to leave featherlight touches on his thigh (only to wrap around it), to the way his bioluminescence freckles start flickering in an unknown pattern when you smile up at him. You feel all of him, all the love he has for you - love so strong that it really does threaten to overwhelm you - only for him to start purring louder, trying to ease your nerves by taking some of those thoughts away through the bond. God, he’s so perfect, I don’t deserve hi-

“You deserve everything you have and even more ma’yawntu.” And then he gives you that smile again and you know that he’s right. After everything you’ve been through, after everything he’s been through. All the things the human have done to your family and his own. You know that you deserve this, just as much as he does. And by the way his eyes shine with a few unshed tears, you realize you don’t have to voice those thoughts because he knows. Because of course he knows. And he feels the same way.

You really can feel everything through the bond.

“Hey guys! Ehm.. I know we promised not to bother you on your little night out unless there is, ehm.. an unannounced emergency. Not that any emergency is ever announced! That would break the whole emergency thing! Heh.. Ehm.. Anyways, there has been an unusual amount of RDA activity near the horseshoe mountain station. It would be gre-“

So’lek grumbles and closes his eyes, hand that once held your cheek now wandering down to grip your waist. You feel a sliver of annoyance through the bond and you try to take away some of it by pushing content, happy thoughts through it. Your own hand comes up to his cheek now, thumb touching the soft skin under his eyes - only for him to open them again, head moving a little to the side so he could press a lingering kiss on your wrist.

“We should get up now.”

He locks eyes with you.

“Yes, we should.”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence (priya ended her call several seconds ago, not that either of you noticed) spent looking into his beautiful yellow eyes, So’lek closes the gap between you two to press his soft lips against your own. It starts off as a small, innocent little kiss but then his teeth start nibbling on your bottom lip, tongue gently slighting over the bitten places only to be asking for entrance which you allow him way too easily. You let out a soft moan when his tongue enters your mouth to touch your own and the low grunt he lets out in response sends tingles down your spine.

Though it ends as quickly as it started.

“Let’s go.”, he says, giving you one last peck on your slightly swollen lips, glistening with spit. He closes his eyes as he gently disconnects your kurus, shuddering at the fact that you’re not feeling him - not in the way you could a few minutes ago. He is still in the back of your mind, like a shimmer in the darkness - he’s still there, but it’s not as overwhelming as before.

You try to recollect your thoughts he really did just leave you wanting more.

But the smirk he gives you over his shoulder while putting on his armor shows you that you are indeed not done yet and that this will be continued later.

You cannot wait for it and by the slight fullness of his tweng it seems like he can’t either.

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hyunsvngs · 7 months

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kinktober !

kink: knifeplay

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

wc: 3k

knifeplay: consensual BDSM edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of stimulation.

It was perfect. You had fake blood all over your room, staining your once blue sheets, but the costume was perfect.

For Halloween, your friends had decided to host a party at one of the dorms. You and your best friend, Jeongin, had decided it would be the best idea to dress up as Sidney Prescott and Ghostface. Your costume was quite easy - you already had an old denim jacket you could cover in blood, and a basic lilac top to go underneath it. When put together with a simple black pair of jeans, you felt completely ready. Your costumes were going to be the best.

The Instagram pictures would be amazing, too, you decided while walking to the party. You didn’t have a long way to walk, and it was quite amusing listening to the kids screaming for candy outside people’s doors - but all you could hope was that one of the members of 3Racha had actually cleaned the dorm this time, and not left it all on Hyunjin.

Music was already booming when you arrived, reverberating around your sober brain and making you wince. Would you regret coming here?

You realised you really did regret it, when the front door swung open and you were met with fox-like eyes in a… a fucking Pokemon trainer costume. Felix emerged from behind him, sharp yellow ears perched on his head and his cheeks covered in red.

“Listen,” Jeongin began, gloved hand reaching out to you. You sighed, shutting your eyes. “It was Felix’s idea. Look at him. He’s really convincing, and I’m sorry I didn’t text, but Chan’s put this stupid no phone ban on and-”

“Look!” Felix chirped, and when you finally saw him… well, you understood what Jeongin meant. He was in yellow dungarees, tail wrapped on a string around his waist and little ears bobbing with his glee. When he looked at you, his face fell. “Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry. Did you guys have something planned, or-”

“No, not at all, Lixie,” You murmured, pulling him in for a hug. He really was so cute. No one could resist him. “I’ll find my Ghostface somewhere.”

Felix nuzzled into the hug, wrapping his arms around you, before he was squealing. “Seungmin’s dressed up as Ghostface! Oh, Innie, did you plan this?”

You blinked, turning to Jeongin. Seungmin was your arch nemesis, but only purely on the basis that you both had some heavily unresolved sexual tension. Jeongin wouldn’t do this to you - or so you thought, because when you looked at his face, he was looking extremely guilty. “I know you have some… issues, but it needs to end now. It’s making things awkward, and, and… you can take pictures together, y’know? Then be friends,” He was mumbling, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. His Pokemon hat obscured most of his face, but you could still see the pout on his lips. Fuck this. You had the two sweetest men in front of you apologising, expecting you to be angry at them, but even you weren’t that mean.

You sighed, finally pushing past the two figures to enter the party. You were immediately attacked by a black plastic streamer dangling from the ceiling, and you swatted it away with a grunt. “It’s fine. Let’s do the pictures, then.”

It had always been the plan - to take pictures all together before the party really got into full swing. You had a feeling you’d been a little late because there were already quite a few people there. Still, you diligently walked into the kitchen behind Felix and Jeongin anyway, where everyone was standing around, conversing.

There he was. Ghostface mask pulled halfway off of his head to reveal dark, menacing features and a black cloak draped over his slender figure. Chunky black boots made an echoing noise as he tapped his foot impatiently on the tile, sipping out of a glass with one gloved hand and the other holding - a knife. It glinted in the light as he spun it around with his fingers, playing way too comfortably with the blade. Oh. Oh, no. Someone was playing a practical joke on you.

“Is that knife real?” You squeaked, and Seungmin turned to you with a glare. “Like, it’s not a prop…? Why do you have a real knife?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, then his lips were curling upwards with a smile. “To finally kill you with.”

“Haha, that’s so funny,” You deadpanned, but half of you was considering if he was being genuine about it. It wouldn’t surprise you - he was a sadistic fuck, always had been since you met him. It was why you wanted him so bad. “Let’s take these pictures. I’m already over it.”

Felix fiddled with his camera, flicking off the lens cap and trying to get it in the perfect position on the counter. You scurried in front of Seungmin as he walked over after placing his cup aside. Once Felix had set the timer, he ran in front of the lens and clutched onto Jeongin. Oh, yeah. What was Seungmin supposed to do, given that you were matching?

You had your answer quickly. With one gloved hand, he pulled his mask down and pulled you into him by the waist, and then he was positioning the knife at your exposed collarbone. It nipped teasingly, the blade threatening to draw blood. You looked down in shock, only to see Seungmin’s hand confidently holding the handle - god, was he skilled with this? He hadn’t killed people, hopefully, but… what if he was into something like this?

Wetness pooled in your panties at the thought. It’s a kink straight out of your deepest, darkest desires. The idea of being too scared to move in case the knife bites at your skin, dripping crimson liquid down your body only to be lapped up by the blade again… yeah. It was hot, and for some reason, with your fake-enemy pressed against you, it was even hotter. You didn’t even blink when the flash went off, too focused on trying to keep your breaths even.

Seungmin dropped his hand once the picture was taken, and then he yanked the mask back again. He was staring at you with a bewildered expression, but he looked somewhat impressed. Pulling you to one side by your arm, he gripped your waist again, trapping you against the wall so he could whisper into your ear. “Did you get turned on when I held that knife to your neck?”

“No, what’s wrong with you-“

“I heard you holding your fucking breath,” Seungmin hissed. “That’s fucking insane, you know? Dressing up as Sidney and then getting all… like that. It’s like you wanted me to do it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Seungmin’s eyes flitted around your face. “I was actually meant to match with Jeongin, so maybe I wanted him to.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Seungmin scoffed, rolling his eyes. He pinched his temples, and then he sighed. “I know you want to fuck me. God, I want to fuck you too, so bad. I’m sick of playing this stupid push and pull when I could be upstairs fucking you with this knife to your neck right now.”

Your eyes widened. You let out a puff of air, trying to find the words to say, but you only noticed that fuck, Seungmin was awfully close all of a sudden. His breath was heavy on your burning cheeks. When you looked around the room, you could see that no one had noticed the two of you - Felix was too busy still jumping around and Changbin and Jisung had dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. You wanted to coo at Changbin, his bulging arms so adorable in the little green dress and wings, but you were definitely more engrossed in what Seungmin had to say.

“The party. We can’t leave, you know?” You finally spoke, and Seungmin pulled back. You wanted to cry. He looked around the room, nodding, before he was pulling the mask back onto his face and obscuring his annoyingly perfect features.

“Half an hour. Jisung’s room, upstairs. Is that alright with you?” His voice was muffled, and you had to crane your head a bit to hear him. You nodded nonetheless, and he gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd of dressed up men.

You sighed heavily. This was about to be the longest half an hour of your life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung’s room was chaotic. You had literally no idea why Seungmin had decided on his room out of everyone’s - surely Hyunjin’s would be better, or even Chan’s with the mood lighting? You opened the door anyway, entering the small room and stepping over piles of clothes to lay back on the bed. At least the bedsheets were cleaned. Jisung’s lamp was the only source of light, leaving the room basked in a creepy orange Halloween atmosphere. It definitely fitted the setting.

It had been exactly half an hour. Seungmin was late. Was he ever late? In your whole pseudo-friendship, you were sure he’d never been late, and-

The door burst open and a masked figure emerged. You jolted, sitting upright on your hands and blinking at the man in costume. It briefly crossed your mind that you couldn’t even be sure it was Seungmin, and then he was tearing the mask off, throwing it aside.

“It’s still me,” He said, tone soft. Was he a mind reader as well as a borderline psychopath? You nodded, wiggling forward on the bed when he sat across from you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Did you bring the knife?” You responded. Seungmin burst out laughing, and then he was bringing it out from his jean pocket, beneath the cloak.

“You are very fucked up. Has anyone ever told you that?” He murmured. You stared at his gloved palms as he threw the knife aside, moving on the bed to pin you down against the mattress. You wiggled impatiently, spreading your legs to allow him between them. Your chest heaved, staring up at him with doe eyes as he blinked down at you.

“‘M not fucked up,” You mumbled, pouting. Seungmin chuckled.

“What was it Billy said in the movie again? ‘It certainly fucked you up, it made you have sex with a psychopath’? Is that not what’s happening right now, baby?” His breath was hitting your face again, and you just couldn’t help it this time. With one hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him down, pressing your lips against his in the filthiest kiss you’d ever shared. Seungmin groaned, hands meeting your waist and delving into your mouth with his tongue. You let him nibble into your bottom lip, let him nearly draw blood with his teeth until you were whining, bucking your hips up for more.

You whined, chasing his lips for more kisses. You heard fabric rustling, and then Seungmin was pressing an ice cold blade to your neck. You shifted immediately, laying back against the pillow and looking up at Seungmin obediently. He just smiled, appearing borderline menacing in the dim lighting of the room. You were so fucking wet.

“You do get off on this,” Seungmin mused. He leaned back on his ankles, letting the knife drag down your body. With a clean swipe, it was cutting through the fabric of your tank top and leaving you in just your bra. “Should I make you bleed, hm?”

“You can- you can do anything you want, Seungmin,” You sighed, arching your back to get more of the feeling of the blade against you. Seungmin bit his lip, dragging the blade down to your jeans. He wouldn’t be able to cut through that fabric - it’s too thick, he’d need something sharper. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head and then he was shaking his head, unbuttoning your jeans and yanking them down your legs. They balanced precariously on one ankle, and you kicked them off before eyeing Seungmin up and down. “Are you… gonna get naked, or?”

“I have different plans for tonight,” Seungmin replied quickly. He gripped the knife firmer this time, until he was dragging it down to your underwear. You knew you were wet, and you shut your eyes and moaned loudly when he pressed the blade into the wet spot forming in the fabric. You thanked every god that the music was still just as loud as earlier. “I’m going to finger you and play around with this knife. I don’t think you could handle more tonight.”

He was right. Another thing that irritated you beyond belief was the fact that Seungmin seemed to read your mind. First with your silly knife play kink, and now with the fact that you definitely couldn’t handle full blown sex tonight. You would’ve tried, and gotten yourself all fuzzy over it - but he knew better.

“Okay,” You agreed. He hummed once more, and then he hooked the blade into the lace of your underwear, cutting them off of your body. He was a bit heavy handed though, and your legs thrashed when the blade nicked your skin just a little, causing a small crimson red cut to bloom on your hip bone.

“Oh, would you look at that?” He ogled the cut, running his thumb over it. It made you whine in pain, yet he ignored you and thrust his thumb into your mouth. The taste was tangy, a bit too metallic for your liking but the whole thing was so fucking hot you couldn’t deny him anything. “Did you like that, too? Okay. We’ll explore that another time.”

Seungmin threw the knife aside once more, and then two long fingers were pressing into your folds. You laid there with legs spread, letting him explore every dip and crevice in your pussy and examine how wet you were. You knew you were dripping, and he did too - it was just a waiting game.

You squirmed, bucking your hips up. “I’m wet enough. I promise that I am, just-“

You gasped when he pressed the knife against your throat again. You hadn’t even seen him grab it. “Stay fucking still,” He warned. “I decide when you’re ready.”

Well, you could definitely get on board with that. Seungmin sunk his middle finger into you nonetheless, meeting no resistance. Your hole was dripping around him, leaking down to his knuckle and making him sigh in approval at the sight. He still had his gloves on, the faux leather buttery and smooth inside of your hole. “This pussy’s tight, huh?”

“I’d clench it for you,” You breathed out, letting one of your hands grab your tits over your bra. The knife was still pressed tightly against the column of your throat, but you managed to pull your tits out of the lace, making Seungmin’s eyes instantly flit down to your pebbled nipples. He started to thrust his finger inside of you, the material of his gloves dragging on your rim. “I’d- I’d clench around your cock, Seungie. Make it so tight for you.”

“Yeah?” Seungmin breathed. On his next thrust in, he pushed another finger in, and then he was curling two directly at that lovely spongy spot inside of you. “I’ll look forward to it, baby. Do my fingers feel good?”

“So good,” You gushed, tweaking your nipples with your fingers. “It’s so good, and- the knife, oh god-“

“Is it like you imagined, yeah?” He moved up to your side, easing his pressure on the blade so you could turn your head and kiss him. It was just as filthy, and he moaned in approval when your walls fluttered around his digits. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected you both. “Maybe next time, I’ll fuck you with the handle of the knife.”

You keened, starting to bounce your hips against his hand. He obliged with your movements, pressing his palm up against your clit and letting you grind the sensitive bud into his calloused hand. It was just the right amount of soft and rough, making your toes curl in your socks and your orgasm build steadily, a white hot pleasure in your pussy.

“It’s- I need it-“

“God, do you even know what you need?” Seungmin chuckled, kissing your cheek. “I think you need to cum for me, don’t you?”

You nodded erratically, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Seungmin dropped the knife to his opposite side once more, replacing it with a firm grip to your throat with his spare hand. The sight of his gloved digits around your throat and restricting your airflow had you wailing once more, gripping his wrist and grinding with renewed fervour.

“I think- oh, I’m gonna cum,” Your lips parted, letting out muted moans and whines at the feeling of his fingers inside of you. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me then, no need to make a noise,” Seungmin was still amused, and you gasped before you were cumming. “That’s it, there you go.”

You felt your hole gush around his fingers, soaking the material of his gloves with white cum and your clit throbbing through your orgasm. It felt good, not only to cum but to also finally have some tension resolved with such a prominent person in your life.

When you finally came to, you were still gasping, breath heavy and burning your lungs with every exhale. You heard Seungmin coo at you, laying back and dragging you onto his chest.

“Good?” He questioned, and you nodded.

Then, something hit you. “Seungmin?” He hummed in response. “You cut my shirt open. What do I wear for the rest of the party?”

Seungmin stopped breathing, and then he burst out laughing, full body laughs wreaking havoc on his body.

“It’s not funny!” You whined, but you were giggling too, slapping his chest playfully.

“You can wear the cloak, baby,” He kissed your nose. “I have clothes on underneath.”

You hummed, nodding. “You still have to wear the mask though.”

“Fuckin’ freak,” He mumbled, but he was still grinning.

“You like it.”

Seungmin kissed you again, chaste and sweet. “Unfortunately, yes.”

795 notes · View notes

thewriterg · 2 months

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.4

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; holding out, threats, and a thumping tail

word count; 2.4k+ | chasin’ chaos masterlist

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n: thank you all so much for 1.9k it means everything under the sun to me!

Your view is slightly perched from the position you’re in on Price's back, legs wrapped around his torso. You have an arm wrapped around his neck, applying no real pressure on his airway. The palms of your captain and fellow lieutenant are pressed against each other trying to over power the opposite. Ghost dressed in a sleeveless hoodie that allowed you to see his hulking scarred arms, gray cargos you'd only seen him in a handful of times, and a black balaclava with his trademark painted on the front.

“You two holdin’ out on me?” The brunette smirks teasingly his full beard adorning his face, shoulders slightly shaking in response to the pressure being applied against them. The dragon and the wraith are practically nose to nose with one another and both you and Simon have your own responses to the question

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.”

“Don’t want you pulling anything, old man.”

John huffs out a laugh and averts his eyes over his shoulder at you for a second and it’s all the time Ghost needed to throw a kick to his lower abdomen. The brunette throws you off his back with the flap of his stray wing while you take the opportunity to swiftly slither yourself between his legs back on your feet in a snap next to the blonde's side.

Your eyes slightly widen when your captain goes to open his mouth and before his languishing flames can reach your body, shadows make a mock wall In front of you blocking your figure from the heat. The wraith can feel you take a hold of his shadows, a sense of familiarity falling over his underwhelming sense of adrenaline. You’re soon taking your wrist and yanking it down as if pulling on a lever. Neither Price or Ghost were aware of what you’d done until the brunette was falling towards the padded rink floor. You’d had one of the blonde’s Infamous shadows wrapped around Price's ankle covered by his steel toe boots, the smoky black littered with electrifying orange and yellow sparks. The dragon’s bottom breaks his fall and he goes down with a grunt before settling his eyes on the two of you.

"Well now, aren't you two a sight? " Prices gruff voice falls over the empty gym, a flirty underline to it that was somewhat difficult to catch from the older man unless you’ve heard it multiple times before. You and Simon stand next to each other's usual balaclavas that rested on your faces absent. The wraith has shadows crawling up his bare arms resembling veins all too accurate. His eyes aren’t quite pitch black but a dark gray blending in well with his eye black, while smoke floats from the slits of his eyes past his temples. Your frame on the other hand has altered just as much however not at such an intensity. Your eyes are light reddish orange, there's cracks running up your arms and the back of your hands like a shattered porcelain doll, a glowing yellow orange burning through them each individually. Your face matches your arms, those cracks spreading from your temples to your cheekbones and from your forehead to above your brow engraved like lightning streaks.

“Yeah, real head turners.” Ghost huffed sarcastically, helping Price up off his position from the mat. The dragon grunted at the quick change in position and patted the wraith on the back with gleaming eyes and a quirk of his lips

“That’s for damn sure” The two begin to exit the rink seeing you happen to be steps ahead. You're dressed similarly to them both with: camo cargo pants, steel toe boots, and a forest green tank top. The sight was close to heavenly and by the others' faces the men could tell the other was not so joyful you had covered yours.

💌💌💌💌

“Missed seeing you in action, Captain.” The lieutenant hummed lowly in the back of his throat even though it sounded more like a grunt passing John a cold thermos of water. It was the closest the hybrid would get to a ‘I missed you, I missed being around you, and stop having so much damn paperwork even though it’s your job.’ And the Captain took it all without complaint while the solider took a seat next to him.

“Trust me, I hate being chained to the desk as much as you do” He responded sipping on the water with a sigh of contentment, watching as you stretched in front of them. Your legs are stretched as far as you can get them beside you hips, you have you stomach pressed to the ground with your arms stretched flat in front of you, while your tank top is slowly rising up your lower back showing the peak of a deep yet healed scar going up your spinal cord, and Price finally looks away at the sight of it.

“How's the shoulder old man?” You question when you're finally off the ground, watching Ghosts mask arch in your peripheral indicating that there was a quirk at his lips. You thought it was even more humorous how John responded without a bat of an eye.

“Tight but that’s nothing new” He grunts, leaning slightly towards the side his stray wing was on with a hand thrown over his hip.

“You two have been interlocking shadows and cosmic energy more often” The captain notes taking more water from the chilled thermos while you and your fellow peer lock eyes for a split second before they strayed away. You’re already taking a sip of your water bottle leaving the skull masked man to answer the question himself.

“Mm, in a good patch.” The blonde answered simply and you couldn’t expect any more from him, it could’ve made you chuckle if you weren’t also roped into the equation.

“Got anything to do with our newest recruit?” The brunette smirks, steam coming from his lips previous fire dying out with a ‘fssssss’.

“What!?”

“I’m not stupid and you’ve always been a dog person Simon” The dragon waved him away with a pale clawed hand, the steam from his mouth spreading in the process. The wraith had thrown a hand over his head staring down at his lap.

“Fuck me, Price, don’t put it like that.”

“I ignore the mutt's existence as a whole actually and I like birds more.” You fight back a roll of your eyes, arms crossed over your chest while your captain slightly grins.

“You love a chase Deity, we all had to go through it at one point.” He grins at you, blue eyes twinkling as you avert your gaze to the now interesting wall while the man dug into his duffel bag.

“Here’s hoping you both keep those opinions, yeah?” The captain held out a file for either of you to take which you’d grabbed first, going to sit in between the two men to give Ghost a view over your shoulder.

“New transfers?”

“Temporary ones. International corps are sending us two of their attack dogs and a python. They’ve been tracking a bogey for months who’s recently made themselves known on our turf. They’re asking to work together.”

“They’re asking to work together? Got us doing their jobs for them with this request for preliminary recon” The wraith merely huffs out, while the dragon began to take a stand from his seat, his brown eyes low peeking through his mask. If unamused was a person he wouldn’t be too far off.

“Just to prepare for their arrival. Shouldn’t be an issue, make sure it isn’t.” The brunette softly grins out, an order. Hes holding the wraiths chin tilting it up slightly in his clawed pale hand while his thick pear green take swayed idly behind the back of knees before his heavy boots began to take him away. The masked lieutenant acts quickly, stretching a hand to reach over to the captains.

“Soap he’s… he’s not gonna change this” The statement falls off his lips like a prayer. His hooded eyes rest lowly with eye black covering the surface around them. Price slight grins before resounding a moment of silence having passed by.

“You don’t need to promise me anything, Simon. I'm your captain, I’ll be here either way.” He grabs ahold of your forearm gently tugging you to his side while stepping in front of the blonde, the writhing having to crane his neck up to see you both in response to you standing before him.

“And I wouldn’t mind if he did. My boys taking of each other when we can’t, a dream come true” Price nods to his side where you stand, eyes flickering between bloodshot red and their normal color.

“Dirty.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” You roll your eyes playfully, —only to their eyes did it seem that way— your thumb rubs against the stubble on his cheek having hiked up his balaclava to his slightly crooked nose. Your eyes don’t stray away from his brown ones, his pupils are slightly blown. Your own orbs are still shifting shades while you stare down the hulking wraith with uncertainty, it would be the first time since…

The blonde shifted his head slightly giving you better access to his jugular, eyes raking over the horned brunette in front of him. It happens all too quickly fangs are scraping against his pulse point and lips are being smashed against his. John swallows the deep hum from Simon when your teeth pierce through the skin of his neck, one of your hands on the nape of his neck and a clawed pale hand that didn’t belong to you sat against his jawline. Your knee that was against the bench now creates friction through the thick fabric of Ghost’s cargo pants right above his growing cock. The lieutenant lets out a broken moan combined with a grunt at the sudden motion that you can hear past his and Prices sealed lips before you’re pulling away.

“Got hybrids today, maybe you could stop by if your dog doesn’t turn you into a treat.” You hum rubbing a finger over the corner of your lips where stray blood had slipped before taking it in between your teeth and walking out of the training room ignoring the faint sounds of your superiors chuckle.

“You think she’ll get over it?” The blonde questioned standing from his seat with a crack of his back, eyes nots quite slipping from your retreating figure. —the sway of your hips to be exact— The brunette huffs out a chuckle slinging his bag over his shoulder before responding.

“When you think about it she’s approved a lot with him, especially since the med wing. Not a threat to her home anymore, just a threat to her people.” The one winged hybrid hummed out, the itch for a smoke growing more prominent the more time had passed.

“By people you mean us… but come on Price, Deity knows she has us” The dragons grin had yet to leave his face, arms thrown across his broad chest.

“We know we had her when she toyed with that one tall lad, König was it? She's just smelling him out Simon. Phoenixs are territorial, pretty sure the ‘threat’ will be gone soon enough. Hell he follows ‘er around like a lost pup anyhow… Tell you what, bet you a twenty he’ll be marked in the next month” With a pat on the shoulder Price left the room without another word, trailing along to the comfort of his office leaving Ghost to himself.

💌💌💌💌

You enjoyed the evenings right outside of base. It wasn’t too warm where your skin was being cooked to a crisp under the sun and not too cold to need anything other than a thin jacket at most. It was also the time where you could get a pocket of peace, where you didn’t have to listen to ‘lieutenant, lieutenant, lieutenant’. A scheduled area away from the comfort of your office where little to no one knew about? Perfect for you… until it wasn’t.

Your visitor couldn’t seem to the memo of temporary peace. All of a sudden instead of the sound of chirping crickets and flickers of fireflies, all you could focus on was the faint sound of the beat blaring through your sergeants headphones. Your cigarette softly crackles as you inhale the smoke from it, the smoke falling over the jacket that wasn’t actually yours. All you wanted was to finish your paperwork in peace and here comes this little mu-

You wanted to groan at the repeated tap on your thigh.

“… Soap” You call out with a huff in your voice, turning your head slightly to look over your shoulder to see the back side of the Scott who seemed blissfully unaware of his… surroundings

“Soap.” You call again his thick, bushy, tail swinging back and forth hitting your thigh with a ‘thump’. You stare at him for a while before standing, snatching the fur rod in your grasp with an underlying firmness.

“Mactavish.” The motion makes the hybrid jerk in his seat leaning forward slightly, dropping his files and pen in the process. You notice the tight looking collar around his neck that you couldn’t imagine having around your own but decide against speaking about it.

“Uh - L.T?” The wolf looks almost bashful when he turns to meet you gaze, your eyes low yet sharp and it reminds him of the day you met —if you could call it that—. The brunette was sure you could see the warmth spreading across his face, it would take a blind man not to.

“Your tail is whacking me.” Soap liked to think of himself as a pretty observant person and now he couldn’t tell if you wanted him in your bed or in a grave.

“It’s uh, g-got a mind of his own” Johnny stuttered out trying to not to fumble over his words. He runs a hand over the nape of his neck, persistent on keeping his eyes on yours and not the grasp you had on his tail.

“Well real it in or I will.” You finally let go of his tush, barely looking at him through the peripheral of your vision before taking your seat. The Mohawked stud takes a hold of his trim with his pants a little tighter then what they were a few moments ago, the thought of finishing his papers completely gone.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Now that everyone’s got their screen time I can’t WAIT to write for my baby gaz🤭

I hate my writing this Chp but what can you do?🙂

168 notes · View notes

ladykat73 · 3 months

Text

Neteyam x fem reader

Warning: smut, mating press, dom Neteyam, breeding kink, biting, doggy style.

Synopsis: you and Neteyam make a baby.

Neteyams hips snap against yours as he ruts into your cunt. Your knees against your chest and ankles next to your ears “s-so deep nete!” He chuckles darkly “I know muntxa gunna cum deep in your cunt, so you can have my babies.” You clench tightly around him at the thought. Neteyam groans loudly “f-fuck- so tight ma syulang. You want my cum don’t you?” He teases.

His slender fingers plays with your clit. Drawing fast circles on it. You can’t even comprehend words the pleasure is to much. The heat in your belly growing hotter with each rough thrust. Your arousal soaking his cock and leaking down to his heavy balls that are slapping your ass spreading the wetness.

“Answer me.” His thrust slowly causing you to whine. “I want your cum! I want your cum! Please don’t stop! Fill me up teyam!” To your dismay, he pulls out completely. “Teyam!” You sob, desperately Needing to cum.

He flips you on your stomach, your tail automatically moving out the way revealing your slick covered puffy lips. Slapping your ass before slowly entering your cunt again. Moaning the whole time it slides in. Gasping softly when his cock is fully sheathed and his balls are pressed firmly against your sensitive clit. “Faster nete! Fuck me!” He grabs your wrists with one hand and pins them to your lower back as he pulls most his cock out leaving the tip in and plunging back in your pussy. His hips flush against your ass.

“Like that muntxa? You like it when I’m rough?” He grunts in your ear, bending over you. Fucking his cock in you. Small grunts and groans escaping his mouth.

“Yesyesyes love it nete!” You babble drunk of his cock. The tip hitting your G-spot every time. You were so close his balls relentlessly hitting your clit making you scream and clench tightly around him.

“Good girl. You’re close aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing me so tight.” He praises. Sucking on your neck.

“So c-close Nete! Bite me!” You’re right on the edge, his cock fucking you perfectly.

“Come on my cock dirty girl.” And sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You scream cumming on his cock.

“Fuck baby. I’m gonna cum!” He can’t hold it any longer the tightening feeling in his belly feels like it’s about to snap. “Cum in me nete. Fill me up- gimme your babies.” You moan seductively in his ear, his head in the crevice of your neck, trying to conceal his moans.

His thrusts become sloppy. Moans and whimpers spilling pathetically from his mouth. You clench around him one last time, making him sink one last hard thrust into your cunt. Stilling his hips against your ass, moaning loudly as his seed spurts in side you.

You moan at the warm feeling inside you. He lifts his head from your neck and smashes his lips against yours. Tongues dancing together. With his cock still in your pussy holding his cum in.

He pulls away. His wide yellow orbs looking into your lidded ones “I love you my muntxa. I can’t wait to see you swell with my child.” You smile tiredly and place another soft kiss on his lips “ I love you to teyam and I can’t wait either.”

When he finally does pull out, you embrace each other all night and repeat the process in the morning to ensure you’re fully stuffed with his seed.

#neteyam sully #avatar #jake sully #loak sully #avatar neteyam #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neytiri #tsutey #x reader #neteyam #spider socorro

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bakvrue · 6 months

Text

bakugou x reader

halloween costumes, named children, some cute family fluff, selfship coded, ~800 wc, divider @/cafekitsune

"Katsuki, you have to come out."

You hear a sad grunt on the other side of the bathroom door, and you can picture the way his face is contorting in the mirror already.

It was almost cruel of your daughter to ask this of him, but she doesn't know that.

"If you won't come out I'm coming in." You open the door and press your lips together, willing yourself not to laugh.

Your strong and prideful husband stares at himself in the mirror; green curls frame his face, a yellow cape hangs off his shoulders, and he's fitted with Deku's signature jump suit.

"I hate this." He narrows his eyes at himself in the mirror. "Do I have to wear the wig, can't I have some dignity?"

"You have to wear it for photos at least." He grumbles as you lean your head on his shoulder. Even covered in green he still looks like himself. "Wait, you forgot one very important part."

You grab an eyeliner pencil from your makeup drawer and turn his face, drawing Midoriya's four freckles on each cheek.

"There, the finishing touch." He groans, and you take his head into your hands. "Just wait until you see Katsuno, she's so excited to be her hero."

His mouth twists to the side, most likely wondering why he even agreed to match with her. But you remember how his eyes sparkled when she came home from preschool overwhelmed with excitement saying that she wanted to match costumes with him. She only slipped it in afterwards that she would be dressing as him, and that of course he would have to be Deku.

Katsuki makes peace with his reflection and turns to you, "So can I get a Halloween kiss?"

He puckers his lips, grabbing onto you before you can dance out of his reach. "Just a kiss for your hero," he makes kissy sounds like the menace he is and you erupt into laughter, pushing his face away and trying to bend over backwards to get away from his assault.

"Ew! Daddy, that's gross!" Your youngest, Natsumi, stands in the doorway, her hand on her hip and fairy wings on her back. The sparkle makeup you let her do herself makes her serious look very much the opposite.

Katsuki lets go of you, and gets into a crouching position, hands in the air like he's some sort of monster. "It's your turn for kisses then!"

He chases her out of the bathroom and down the hall, rounding the corner into the girls' room, but Katsumi jumps out of the doorway holding up her hand to command a stop. Her hair is up in a ponytail, accented with Bakugou’s own hair spikes, her costume an almost near replica for his own, down to the knee pads and the boots.

"Stop!" Her little voice makes Katsuki freeze in his tracks, he grunts and lunges after her and your daughter squeals and runs into her room, with her father/monster/Deku on her tail.

"It's not every day you see prohero Deku chasing a squealing Dynamite!" You call down the hallway as you grab the last pieces of your costume.

"It's Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight to you!" Katsuki and Kasuno yell out in unison.

Your oldest, Takumi, appears next to you. His ninja costume must be working some type of magic because where did he even come from?

He shakes his head at the racket, "Those two are too much alike."

"Don't I know it…" you laugh at the screams coming from the girls' room once again and you can only imagine what is going on in there. Katsuki probably has them cornered on one of the beds and they're about to turn the tides with the help of some stuffed animals. "Come on bud, let's go see if anyone is here yet."

Bonus:

"You got photos of this right?" Izuku sneaks up on you with two of his children climbing on his arm like a jungle gym.

"Of course I did." You wiggle your phone at him, "And I already made backups, and backups of the backups."

"Smart," Izuku shuffles on his feet and the two kids decide climbing on their dad isn't fun anymore and run off. "Would you—"

"Don't worry, I already sent you a few."

"Thanks," Izuku looks around the crowd to spot his wife when you hear a loud yell.

"AUGH! You can't take me down so easily villains!"

You find the source: your husband, with his mini-me on his shoulders, and every Bakugou and Midoriya child, about eight in total, climbing on him trying to drag him down. The green wig slipping off his head and the child hanging off his neck; you raise your phone yet again.

*Click*

"Don't worry Izuku, I'll send that one too," you laugh before he can even open his mouth.

#bakugou x reader #💕.katsuki #🌸.bakurue

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wh0re43van · 5 months

Note

You are great writer! Stumbled on that on set Evan fic and it was soooo good 🔥 Lol, I actually do work on set and you really captured the atmosphere tbh. Keep it up!

Not sure if you’re open to requests rn, but I would love your take on Evan and his partner trying to make a baby for the first time. He just seems so sweet and I’d love to think of this man in a happy marriage, daydreaming about little feet running around.

Thank you so much! I truly appreciate your kind words <33

So, I decided to make this two parts. This first part is just fluff, the readers get to see Evan in kind of a paternal role in this part, baby making will be in the next, I hope you enjoy!

Also ngl, I had this done for a couple of days now, I just couldn’t think of a title :/ so sorry about that. I’m awful with titles smh

Baby fever (Evan Peters X Reader) Pt. 1

Summary: While babysitting for Evans brother, you realize that you’re finally ready to have a baby, much to your husbands delight.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: none in this part ;)

Pt2 Pt3

“Thank you again, I know it’s a bit short notice, “ Evans brother, Andrew, says as he closes the door behind him to step out onto the dim front porch with Evan, his daughter Ellie, and myself.

“Dude, It’s no problem really!” Even smiles, laying a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s always a joy having Ellie around,” he grunts as he picks up her small ‘Peppa Pig’ suitcase and her car seat.

“Yeah, Dad! They love me!” Ellie giggles as she grabs onto my arm. I smile at her snaggle toothed grin. The yellow light of the porch reflecting off her dark hair, making her curly pig tails look golden.

“They’re right Andrew,” I reiterate as we all begin to walk to Evans car, Ellie’s small hand in mine while the crickets chirp their evening song. “Now you go inside and help the Mrs. pack for your..uh.. trip. We’ve got it from here, “ I give Andrew a sympathetic smile, taking Ellie’s sippy cup out of his hand.

Andrews wife’s mother has been rushed to the hospital just a few hours ago and the couple is driving through the night to be there with her. They haven’t told Ellie the reason for the trip, all she knows is that she’s spending the weekend with Auntie y/n and Uncle Evan.

“Be sure to call me if you need anything or if Ellie just wants to talk, bye sweetie,” Andrew picks up his daughter, giving her kiss on the head.

“I love you daddy,” she giggles hugging him back quickly before trying to escape his embrace. “Let me down! I wanna go to Uncle Evans!” She Kicks her small light up sneakers, flashes of purple and red glow on the concrete as her feet hit the ground. Andrew just laughs. Thanking us again before making his way inside.

“Give me the suitcase babe, I’ll throw it in the back,” I take the pink bag out of Evans arms, walking to the trunk to toss it in.

I make my way around the vehicle to see Evan bent over struggling to get the carseat hooked in as Ellie hangs on his leg, both of them erupting in giggles.

“Ellie I can’t get this carseat in with you climbing all over me like that,” he laughs as he pulls at the locked seatbelt, trying to free it so he can stretch it through the back of the child’s seat. Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him, and Evan lets her. I smile at the pure joy beaming from my husband. He loves children dearly; his niece is no exception of course. He’s brought up starting a family of our own many times in the few years we’ve been married, I’ve just never felt quite ready with how much time away his job requires, but now things are slowing down and the idea of having a baby grows on me more every day.

“Now Ellie, how will we ever make it to our house if you don’t let Uncle Evan buckle your seat in?” I ask, giving her a stern look. She considers my statement, then reluctantly trudges over to me, leaning on my leg.

“Oh okay,” she frowns, looking up at me with her big hazel eyes.

“Done! … I think.” Evan exclaims, backing away from the vehicle. I stifle a laugh when I see the crooked car seat that he is ever so proud of. I simply walk up and adjust it before plopping Ellie in the seat and strap her in. Finally, we can go home.

•

After arriving home, we bring Ellie’s bag in to the room that she’ll be sleeping in, I take her down to the kitchen as Evan goes to change into some sleepwear. It’s a bit late, 7:00 pm and the sun’s already set for the night, but we’ve been informed that Ellie hasn’t had supper yet.

“Okay so you want a grilled cheese, we can do that, but you need to have a veggie as well,” I pick up Ellie and set her on the dining chair. She’s expressed that she wants a grilled cheese and only a grilled cheese. She even briefly tried to convince me that she’s allergic to all vegetables. “We have broccoli,” I pull a head of broccoli out of the fridge and set it on the table.

“Yuck!” The small girl rolls her tired eyes.

“Carrots,” I grab a bunch of fresh carrots, placing them in front of her.

“No way!” She shoves them away from her. I huff.

“Or we have green beans,” I reach into the pantry and set a jar of green beans next to the other veggies.

“Aunt y/n, you’re crazy. No thank you to all of them. Just a grilled cheese please,” she says in disgust, reaching for the bag of bread and block of cheese, sliding the ingredients closer to me.

“Ellie-“ I sigh, admittedly losing some patience.

“Oh wow look at all these super veggies that Aunt y/n has laid out for you. You’re lucky, she’s giving you the special ones,” Evan says coming around the corner, now in his pajamas, as he takes a seat next to his niece.

“What do you mean?” She inquires, raising a small eyebrow.

“Oh she didn’t tell you?” He gasps, shifting his gaze to wink at me. I stifle a laugh.

“These carrots,” he pulls the bunch to him. “They give you night vision.” He explains. Ellie considers his claim.

“What about this one,” she hands him the head of broccoli.

“Oh this? It just gives you super speed, no big deal I guess if you don’t want to be the next quicksilver,” he says nonchalantly, tossing the head of broccoli in between his hands. Ellie gasps, her eyes light up.

“I want this one!” She grabs the green veggie and hands it to me. “Please.” She adds, remembering her manners. I laugh.

“Don’t you want to hear about the green beans?” Evens asks, standing up from his seat.

“No thank you. Super speed please!” She crosses her hands on the table, awaiting her superpowers. Evan takes the broccoli from my grasp, turning to grab a cutting board.

“I got it honey, go upstairs and get ready for bed,” he kisses my forehead. I smile and thank him before making my way to our bedroom.

•

I change into some comfy pajamas and do my nightly routine of skincare and brushing my teeth before padding down the steps. Before I peak my head around the corner I hear Evan shout,

“One more time… GO!” followed by the quick stomping of tiny feet. I clear the corner to see the furniture pushed out of the way and Ellie hurtling full speed towards me. She runs right into my stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

“Jesus,” I wheeze. Ellie giggles boisterously with a toothless smile.

“I’m sorry Auntie y/n,” she manages to choke out as she falls to the ground in her fit of laughter. I look to my husband with wide eyes, trying to process what happened.

“Hey don’t look at me babe, it was the supper broccoli. Hopefully it will wear off soon,” he says genuinely, putting his hands up in defense. I can’t help but laugh.

I take a moment to admire the sight of my husband standing in his sweatpants and old stained shirt draped loosely on his toned body. His beautiful brown curls that are just a bit overdue for a trim sticking out every which way, yet resting perfectly on his soft features, and his scruff filling in more and more every day that he’s doesn’t shave. The gorgeous man in front of me, smiling from ear to ear with the purest of joy in his chocolate eyes makes my heart sing. He’s truly in his element right now. The elation coming from Ellie and Evan is contagious, I find myself in a fit of laughter as well as Ellie crawls up my legs and onto my back.

“Your turn to race Auntie y/n!” She cheers.

“No, no not tonight honey,” I disappoint her with my response.

“We have to clean up and get you ready for bed,” I walk over to Evan, passing the girl on my back into his grasp. “Which will be Uncle Evans job since he’s the one that wound you up,” I raise my eye brows at him. Ellie happily rests in his arms bridal style, her gummy grin never leaving her face.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” he begins to walk towards the steps. “You’re the one that gave Ellie speed enhancing veggies,” he reminds me, almost fooling me as well, with how serious his tone and expression are.

I roll my eyes as I turn to put our living room back together.

‘You’d think Evan would know not have a 6 year old run laps around the house half an hour before bedtime.’ I sigh as I push our couch back into place. As irritated as I want to be, I can’t help but feel giddy. Seeing how happy Evan is with Ellie makes my heart swell with joy.

‘Maybe I will discuss having a baby with him.’ I think to myself as I replace our rug and coffee table back into the center of the room.

‘But having a child isn’t always fun. It’s much different having your own child than babysitting.’ I make note to remind him as I shove our recliner back to its designated spot.

‘And pregnancy can be complicated’ I’ll have to tell him. ‘I hope mine won’t be, but it is something you have to prepare for’ I’ll explain. He’s not the one getting pregnant so I know this may not be something he’ll consider.

I make my way to the kitchen to begin stacking the dishwasher with what little dishes Evan left in the sink before he went to destroying our living room.

‘And what will we do if you get a big job and have to fly halfway across the country while I’m in labor or freshly postpartum?’ I’ll be sure to ask. I begin to make myself nervous considering all my concerns.

‘And what if-‘

“She’s laying down,” Evans comforting voice breaks me from my thoughts. I can hear the smile as he speaks. I don’t even need to look up. “Once I finally convinced her that there is no goblin living in our guest room closet, she crawled right in bed,” his voice gets closer as he moves to wrap his strong arms around my waist, I lean back to rest my head on his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent. I turn to look up at him. I don’t know how his dimples haven’t popped right off his face from how much he’s been smiling this evening.

“Let’s have a baby,” I blurt out, looking into the pure joy glinting in his eyes. The joy turns to shock. He grabs my shoulders, spinning me around so he can search my eyes for any hint of joking. There isn’t any.

“Are you serious y/n?” He asks. The smile now just his jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised so high that they’re hidden behind his curls. I chuckle at his reaction, my chest warming at how excited that one sentence has made him.

“Yes,” I simply answer. He matches my smile, pulling me into his chest so tight it almost hurts, but I don’t say anything.

“I want nothing more than that y/n,” he mumbles to the crook of my neck. I wiggle out of his grip enough to meet his gaze, seeing his mahogany eyes glistening. He blinks and a single tear threatens to escape though his long lashes. He reaches a hand up quickly to wipe the happiness attempting to leak from his eye.

“Let’s do it,” I grin. Every doubt, every concern, flying quickly out of my mind. The speech I was going to give him about the dangers and responsibilities of childbearing now long gone after seeing how happy the idea of us having our very own bundle of joy is making Evan.

“I love you so much y/n Peters,” he pulls me into a soft kiss, his lips warm against mine. I reach my hands up to bury my fingers in his curls.

“And I love you Evan Peters,” I smile against his lips. Though this kiss is gentle, but it is easily the most intimate kiss we’ve had. I can feel the adoration with every breath that fans over my face. “I think we should try as soon as Ellie goes home,” I suggest, pulling away from the kiss, resting my forehead on his.

“You wouldn’t reckon my brothers on his way home now, would you?” He jokes as he reaches down to grab my hands. Running his thumbs over my knuckles.

“I’m not even sure they’re out of the state yet Ev,” I smile at my husband. He brings both my hands up to his mouth, kissing each one gently.

“I suppose I can wait,” he sighs. I giggle, grabbing his arm to guide him to our room.

“Let’s check on Ellie one more time, then we can head to bed ourselves,” I whisper as we walk towards the guest room.

“You seriously expect me to be able to sleep, Honey? I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve night,” he flashes his dimples, I roll my eyes and smile at his excitement.

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ultram0th · 6 months

Text

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 23: Ghost Possession

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22 │ 23

Despite being a werewolf, Derek didn’t believe in ghosts. In his opinion, they were the cheap product of Hollywood trying to advertise uncreative horror films. He would scoff at the young adults who’d dared one another to sneak into McFadden Manor, only to hear them swear up and down that they’d seen a ghost. Lies, Derek figured.

Still, when Stiles had made up his mind to investigate the ghost stories surrounding McFadden Manor for Halloween, Derek had instantly jumped at the chance to tag along in an attempt to look brave and woo the hyperactive human.

Unfortunately, Derek couldn’t hide the grimace as he walked through the deserted McFadden Manor. The abandoned mansion was the center of numerous spooky, Halloween-themed tales— all of them focusing on a mischievous trio of ghosts who liked to mess with unsuspecting people. The wide smile on Stiles’s face deeply contrasted with Derek’s scowl.

He eagerly held up an ancient-looking camera. “We should split up and cover more ground,” he said. “I’ll go down towards the garden while you inspect the bedrooms. Radio me if you see anything.” He shoved a large, dinosaur era walkie talkie towards the werewolf.

“I can just text you…” Derek muttered, studying the heavy tech in his hands.

“Thanks for coming with me again, Der,” Stiles said, offering the usually grumpy werewolf a sincere smile, making the alpha’s heart flutter in his chest.

In response, Derek puffed out his muscular chest with pride, his pecs pressing teasingly against his thin, white t-shirt. “S’no problem,” he grunted, trying to play it cool, but he could feel his cheeks grow hot as he blushed. Plus, he couldn’t help but crunch his stomach to make his abs pop against his shirt too, his muscular bod being his best form of flirting since he wasn’t really good at wooing orally.

Stiles happily ran down one of the dark hallways towards his destination, Derek not-so-subtly watching his perky butt as it disappeared.

“Damn,” Derek admired before frowning at the sight of the decrepit mansion. “Damn it.”

Frowning again, he shrugged his broad shoulders and lumbered throughout the dark, cobweb-filled halls. To humor himself, Derek sniffed at the air, smelling nothing in the air except for dust and rats. He rolled his eyes at himself participating in this foolish activity, yet, he forced himself to focus on the endgame: Stiles and him getting together… and then heatedly fucking in his Camaro.

That last thought put a little more pep in Derek’s steps as he explored the empty rooms in the mansion.

*Thud!

Derek tensed up at the sound that echoed out from one of the bedrooms. Following the source, Derek entered a room near the end of the hallway. The room turned out to be a bathroom, the rusty toilet giving it away. There was a dust-covered sink with a dirty mirror near the entryway, and in the far end was a standing tub with a yellow curtain closed over it.

Derek cocked his eyebrow in confusion over the fact that the water seemed to be running in the tub, steam even billowing out from the curtain.

“What the hell?” Derek wondered aloud, knowing that there was no way this house was occupied given its dilapidated state. Still, the running water left the werewolf deeply confused. He grabbed the edge of the shower curtain and ripped it to the side.

Inside of the tub was a portly bluish figure that was slightly transparent. Looking like a caricature ripped out of a cartoon, the ghost had a little tail that seemingly phased in and out of existence as the creature showered. When it noticed that it was being watched, the ghostly figure looked over at Derek and gasped, covering its lower half with its hands… despite there being really nothing to see.

“Do you mind?” the ghost scoffed.

Derek was stunned silent for a moment, his eyes wide as he stared at an actual ghost that was floating before him. “Holy shit,” he finally breathed. “You’re a fuckin’ ghost!”

The ghost exaggeratedly rolled its eyes at Derek. “No shit,” it huffed in a baritone-filled voice that only emphasized its rotund girth. A sly grin formed on its translucent face and its eyes sparkled. “You know, most fleshies tend to avoid this place because of me and my brothers, but here you are.” He sniffed at the air, his smile growing wider. “A werewolf?”

Derek flinched and took a cautious step back.

The ghost continued. “We don’t get a lot of your kind here,” he chuckled. “Your bodies tend to be a little more sturdy. This should be fun!”

The ghost lurched forward at lightening speed, much faster than Derek’s werewolf instincts could react. Since his jaw was still hanging low in shock, the ghost aimed right for the alpha’s agape mouth.

Derek felt his mouth being stretched to the limit as the ghost squeezed himself inside of him. It was a difficult sensation to describe. Thanks to the ghost’s vapor-like body, it felt as if there was a gust of air that was keeping Derek’s jaw thrusted down as it shoved itself in. Cartoonish stretching noises, like rubber, sounded out as the ghost entered the werewolf. Derek felt himself getting fuller and fuller, feeling as if he’d just eaten a multi-course meal and was stuffed to the brim.

With a simple pop, the ghost finished his entrance and successfully squeezed his rotund body deep inside of Derek.

The werewolf felt full, his stomach and even lower end of his throat feeling as if there was a thick soup trapped in it. Derek stumbled around on shaky feet, trying to piece together what had just happened. The ghost squirmed a little as he settled in under Derek’s skin, the werewolf wincing at the sensation.

“Damn, I can’t believe that worked!” Derek heard himself exclaim. “I usually have trouble fitting inside tiny bodies.”

Tiny? Derek balked.

Derek’s tingling limbs appeared out of his control, and the more Derek tried his best to strain and walk on his own accord, the more horrified the werewolf grew as it dawned on him that he wasn’t in control of his body. He even attempted to open up his mouth and demand that the ghost leave his body, but he couldn’t even do that— instead, Derek was more so a passenger inside of his own body. He could still experience every sense, smelling and feeling everything around himself, but he couldn’t move or speak on his own.

He felt his legs propel him forward, turning around to look into the mirror. Derek bristled at his own reflection which only smiled back at him, his smile eerily similar to that of the ghost’s.

What the fuck are you doing to me?! Derek roared on the inside. Get the fuck out!

The ghost only shook Derek’s head mockingly. “No way,” he said, making Derek’s body and voice say it on his behalf. “I kinda miss having a body so I’m gonna hang onto yours for a bit. The name’s Fatso, by the way.”

That’s a stupid name.

The ghost shrugged. “And this is a stupid body,” he countered, exploring Derek’s body, running his hands over it. Derek could feel every touch, unable to stop feeling himself up. “There’s barely any room inside of here. Let’s fix that.”

Derek screamed on the inside as he witnessed his stomach shudder before it expanded outwards. His gut grew in size and it rounded out as Fatso forced it to bubble out. Derek’s chiseled abs disappeared as a thick layer of fat appeared over them, going from firm to large and jiggly. It grew bigger and bigger, becoming huge and bulbous as it jutted far out in front of Derek, looking as if he’d swallowed a yoga ball instead of a ghost. To add to the inflation, even Derek’s pecs packed on some fat. They lost some of their tone as they grew larger and saggier, resting atop his enormous belly. There was still some traces of Derek’s large muscles underneath his new girth, but instead of looking like he lived in a gym, he looked more like some ex-jock who was in the middle of a perpetual bulking phase.

What the fuck did you do to me?! Derek roared on the inside, wincing as he examined his new body in the mirror. He must’ve gained well over fifty pounds, with most of it centered on his new gut. His mysterious growth had torn his t-shirt to shreds, forcing him to see all of his girth at once. Despite looking hard and solid, Derek winced at the way his gut hung over his jeans, sagging slightly.

Fatso mock-frowned. “Don’t be like that,” he taunted, putting both of his hands on the sides of Derek’s new belly and giving it a playful shake, causing it to bounce wildly. “I think you look much better with some more meat on our bones. Now there’s some food in the kitchen that we can eat.”

Eat? You mean you want me to get even fatter? Derek protested, unable to prevent his body from waddling out of the bathroom and down the hallway. His thicker thighs rolled over one another as he moved, and his rotund belly stuck so far out in front of himself that he couldn’t even see his feet. He inwardly flinched every time his foot thudded against the hardwood floor, sending a ripple through his belly and pecs.

Fatso forced Derek into the kitchen, where he made him lumber towards the fridge. Derek was surprised that when it opened, it was stocked full of food that looked like it’d just been bought earlier that day as opposed to sitting for years untouched.

Derek felt his arms lurch forward, grabbing fistfuls of various treats and snacks.

“The only downside to being a ghost is that you can’t eat a lot of food,” Fatso lamented. “But the good thing about possessing a werewolf fleshie is that you can gorge on tons and tons of junk food. Much, much more than a human can!”

No! Wait! Derek pleaded.

His pleas fell on deaf ears as Fatso eagerly shoved loads of food into Derek’s mouth, moaning loudly as he tasted all sorts of flavors. Salty, sweet, savory— all kinds of different foods were shoved down Derek’s eager throat, none of them low-calorie.

The entire time, the werewolf inwardly begged Fatso to stop gorging on so much junk food. However, the ghost was paying no attention to him, moaning loudly as he devoured everything in the fridge.

In the center of the fridge was a delicious looking, three-tiered cake with bright pink frosting. Derek could feel his mouth salivating as his eyes honed in on the monstrous dessert.

Before Derek could uselessly plead with Fatso again, his hands grabbed at the cake as he greedily gobbled it down. All he could taste was the sugary frosting and the chocolate center of the cake, grimacing at the sweetness, yet Fatso loved it.

Derek inwardly froze when he felt something horrible: his pants felt like they were getting tighter.

It was hard to tell since Fatso controlled his line of sight, but Derek could barely make out his gut growing more and more into his field of vision. It didn’t take long for the werewolf to put two and two together to figure out that, thanks to Fatso’s overeating, he was getting even bigger.

His big belly was starting to jut even further away from his torso as it packed on even more size from the delectable cake. His pecs felt heavier as they grew in size, his nipples even stretching out from the sheer expanse of his enlarged chest. Love handles formed and drooped slightly over the edges of Derek’s pants, which felt painfully tight by now.

Pop!

The button on Derek’s pants finally gave out, ricocheting off and landing on the floor. Derek felt a sense of relief as he continued to fill out, his ass puffing out as his cheeks ballooned out and became large and squishy. To account for his larger rear, Derek could even feel his thighs starting to push closer together as they blew up. As Fatso continued to eat, Derek’s body went from bulky to chunky linebacker status, looking incredibly large as if two of him were shoved together into one body.

Fatso fit the last few bits of the cake into his mouth, swallowing it down loudly and straightening back up. He patted his large gut, satisfied, before letting out a loud burp.

“I always gotta get a big cake before every Halloween thanks to silly guys like you who want to come play detective,” he smiled, rubbing his hand up and down his distended belly. “This was nice. See ya next year?”

Derek let out another loud belch, this one accompanied by a flash of blue as Fatso left his body to fly somewhere else in the manor.

Finally in control of his body, Derek gasped loudly as he ran his shaky hands all over his enlarged form. For some strange reason, even with Fatso gone, Derek was left with his added weight, looking massive and round. He took an awkward step forward, blushing as his entire body seemed to jiggle. He couldn’t see anything past his large belly which definitely wouldn’t fit in any of his clothes anymore.

“Damn it,” Derek huffed, giving his gut a tentative poke. “I have to do so many crunches to get this down to size…” He trailed off when his stomach growled, a deep hunger taking over him.

“Hey, Der,” Stiles called out, his footsteps approaching, “still no sign of any ghosts. I’m starting to think that they’re just stories.” Stiles froze when he reached the kitchen, his eyes nearly falling out of his head at the sight of the fatter Derek.

“Um,” Derek blushed, scratching the back of his head nervously, “I think I found a ghost—” He paused when Stiles stepped forward and placed a soft hand on his rotund belly, rubbing it up and down.

A smile forming on his face, Stiles couldn’t help but look up at the large werewolf. “Do you like belly rubs?” he asked, playfully rubbing Derek’s gut.

Although he couldn’t see it thanks to his big gut blocking his view, Derek could feel his cock rocket to attention, already oozing as Stiles gave him a belly rub. “Y-yeah,” he breathed. He blushed again as his stomach growled a second time.

“Big boy’s hungry?” Stiles teased.

Derek just eagerly nodded, looking forward to eating cake and getting more belly rubs from Stiles.

All in all, it turned out to be the best Halloween of Derek’s life.

#31 days of derek hale #derek hale #tyler hoechlin #WG #Weight Gain #Gut #Belly growth #Fatso #Casper #Possession #Ghost possession #loss of control #Sterek #stiles stilinski #force eating

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blackcherryvelvet0909 · 9 months

Text

Lifeguard Required (Divus x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Mentions of alcohol (none present)

Note: Reader is an adult staff member, implied to be a teacher/professor or teacher's assistant

“You know, sometimes I wonder if teaching was a mistake.” Divus took another long swig of his drink. Thankfully, it was non-alcoholic. “If this keeps up, I’ll be getting gray hairs soon.”

“I think you’d look good with them,” you said with a smile. “You will have the silver fox thing going for you.”

Divus let out a short chuckle as he adjusted himself in his seat, leg now crossed over his knee. “Well, thank you for the effort to make me feel better.”

“No problem,” you smirked as you brought your soda to your lips, “but I meant what I said.”

As though to stray from the conversation of aging, Divus changed the subject. “You know, when I was a student myself, I became a lifeguard part-time during the summer months.”

“Really now?” You raised an eyebrow at the vision of a young Divus decked out in red swim trunks, a whistle around his neck and a red float under his arm. “Why’s that? Strapped for cash?”

“Not necessarily,” he said. “While the extra money was a plus, it was mainly to build up my resume. It wasn’t the most…remarkable thing back then. It was experience enough while I pursued my interest in fashion.”

“Do you have any pictures of you from back then?” You leaned over your chair as you raised your eyebrows in interest. “I require evidence to believe your story - and I’m curious as to how you looked back then.”

“I looked not too different than I do now.” He picked his drink up again. “I age like a fine wine~”

“Mhm,” you hummed, which was then followed by a teasing remark. “A strong one, to be sure, but a little dry from all the stress and age.” You ended that statement with a sip of your soda for effect.

A smirk to match crossed Divus’s lips as he watched you sip your drink. He looked like he was going to say something else - then a loud scream caused you both to flinch. You whipped your heads in the direction of the scream just in time to see Idia Shroud get tossed into the pool by Leona Kingscholar. A loud splash resounded throughout the area, followed by droplets of water raining down from the impact. Divus quickly placed his glass on the small table between you two before he bolted up from his chair. He looked almost ready to sprint forward and dive in after him - but he relaxed the moment Idia’s head burst out from the water. He gasped for air, hands coming up to wipe dark blue strands of hair from his face.

“What the hell?!” Idia coughed as he yelled. His yellow eyes glared daggers into Leona; if his hair was still alight, you figured it’d be burning red.

“So, you do have hair under that burning turnip.” Leona chuckled as he smirked in Idia’s direction, completely unbothered. “Mystery solved.”

Before either could get out another word, Divus’s boomed out in anger. “Bad dog! Kingscholar, come here, now!”

“Hm?” Leona tilted his head in the professor’s direction. While he appeared unphased, his tail twitched in irritation. “We were just foolin’ around, professor Crewel.” His smirked appeared again as he grinned and gestured to Idia. “Shroud is completely unharmed, as you can see. Do you really think I would hurt him?”

The sweet talk and charm wouldn’t work, you knew that. Still, Leona always gave Divus a hard time; you doubt the lion would listen to him much. Then, from the other side of the pool, Trein appeared. Though he did not yell, his voice was stern and level, as though scolding a child. “Kingscholar, come with me. It seems that, once more, we need to have a chat about your poolside etiquette.”

You were unsure why Leona didn’t pick a fight with Trein, nor why he complied with his demands with little more than a grunt of annoyance. You saw that annoyance, that irritation, as Leona’s ears flattened against his head, snarling under his breath as he turned and headed away with the professor. Was there some sort of begrudging respect the young man had for the elder? Perhaps…you did hear once from Crowley how Trein beat Leona in a duel during the student’s freshman year. Ever since that day, when Leona lost his own challenge, he hadn’t been too much of a problem for that teacher in particular. You’d have to ask Divus if he knew anything of that incident later.

For now, you watched as Divus helped Idia out from the pool. The poor boy was soaked to the bone, black hoodie weighing him down. You quickly ran and grabbed a towel for him; once you retrieved the biggest you could find, you draped it around his shoulders. Idia didn’t say much in thanks, but he shot you the smallest of smiles as his show of gratitude. Divus placed a gentle hand on Idia’s back as he began him back inside, whispering words of comfort you could scarcely hear. Before they got too far, Divus looked over his shoulder at you and asked, “Can you handle things until I return?”

You nodded and gave him a small smile of your own. “Of course.”

Divus gave you one of his own before he led Idia away. That poor boy…no wonder he often stayed in his room. You glanced in the direction that Trein and Leona had disappeared, the two no doubt having a thorough discussion somewhere just out of sight. The other students present had gone back to what they’d been doing before their fun was disturbed. You sighed, thankful no one was hurt, but tired all the same. As you sat back in your chair and took another sip of your soda, a part of you wished it was spiked - just a little.

***

A long sigh combined with an exhausted groan escaped Divus’s lips as he returned. Though he elegantly sat down in his chair, his posture was anything but. His head lolled back as he slumped in his seat, his hand coming to run through his hair and slick it back from his forehead. His tropical button-up - one of many designs of his for the season - was now unbuttoned and slightly damp at the back. He looked more casual than usual, for sure, yet also far more exhausted than before. You wished you could tell him it’d soon be over, but that would be a lie. The trip had another week to go, and then it was back to the classrooms.

You offered Divus his drink, which he took with a slight nod of his head. You’d never seen him chug something so fast. A chuckled as he finally opened his eyes and looked at the night sky as though it were the cause of his strife. “I think you’re ready for bed,” you said with a small laugh.

“I’m ready for a vacation,” he grumbled.

“But we’re on a vacation?”

“If this is a vacation for you, I dread what you do on the daily.” Divus set his now empty glass on the table as he continued. “This is work with a tropical backdrop; I need one away from children.”

“I think we all do,” you giggled. “A weekend getaway for the staff sounds lovely.”

Divus seemed to scoff as he said, “You assume half the staff are not the children I speak of?”

Now that made you laugh. The alchemy professor certainly had a point; a certain headmage and coach were maddeningly unhelpful for most of this trip. What would they do if you, Divus, Mozus, and Sam took off for a weekend or more? You honestly dreaded the possibilities. “That is very true,” you uttered as your laugh faded. “We can’t take them anywhere, can we?”

While you gave no context as to whether it was the students or Crowley and Vargas you were referring to, Divus didn’t seem to care. Either answer would be correct, in his mind. He nodded with a small ‘mhm’ as a few loose strands of white and black hair fell over his forehead. “Like untrained dogs, they don’t know how to behave.” He glanced over at two certain first years as he uttered, “Some more than others.”

“Well, at least summer break is just a month away.” You sympathized with the small groan Divus let out at the reminder of how much time was left before then. “When that time comes, I’m sure we’ll all be thankful for the rest.”

“If that rest is too good, I just might quit,” Divus joked. There was some truth to that suggestion, however. Again, you didn’t blame him. Divus rested his chin on his knuckles as he turned his gaze on you. “What do you plan to do for the break?”

“Mmn, I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ll probably just relax at home, watch movies, maybe order takeout - stuff like that.”

“No plans whatsoever?”

“Bold of you to assume those aren’t my plans.”

Divus let out a small ‘hmph’ as he smiled. He simply looked at you for a few seconds, as though deep in thought. You grew a tad nervous, a little shy, under that gray gaze; you mildly shrunk in your own chair as you eyed him. “What?”

“Oh, just thinking,” he replied. He certainly seemed to be plotting something, you thought. He straightened his posture as he spoke again, “What is your opinion on upscale restaurants?”

“Like the ones you have to dress up for?” He nodded. “Um…I’ve never been to one before,” you chuckled under your breath, “can’t afford it with my meager salary. So, I can’t say I really have an opinion on them.”

“I see.” Those cunning eyes scanned you from head to toe. A chill ran up your back under his intense gaze; you felt like grabbing your towel and hiding underneath. Before you could ask what he was doing, he said, “I think you’d look quite fetching in red.”

“Uh…t-thank you?” Though a blush threatened to creep on your cheeks, you barely noticed in your confusion. “Where’d that come from?”

“Again, I am just contemplating.”

“Contemplating what?”

“On exactly where I should take you for dinner.”

If this were a cartoon, you’d have been knocked out of your chair by that statement. Your soda was left completely forgotten on the table beside you as you leaned against the armrest of your chair. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

Divus seemed to find your reply amusing for the way he tittered. “Don’t tell me that’s how you respond to every advance you receive?”

“I’ve…never received an advance.” You couldn’t help but answer honestly; I mean, what else could you reply with? Your head swum with so many questions that you could barely think of anything else.

“Truly?” You noticed Divus’s smile had now stretched into a charming smirk. “It’s good to know I do not have any competition.”

“Competition for what?” You didn’t mean for your voice to rise in pitch like that. Thankfully, no one other than Divus seemed to notice.

“So, even you, a fellow trainer of pups, are blind to such simple things.” A chuckle rumbled in his throat and rib cage before he spoke again with a wiggle of his fingers. “Come closer.” With no reason to object, you complied. Divus leaned a little closer to your face, voice a volume above a whisper as he explained himself. “On the day summer break begins, and we’re relieved of our duties, I am going to take you to a celebratory dinner. You do not need to fret about your choice of clothing - I will provide it. All you need to do is let me pick you up, drive you there, and, hopefully, enjoy the food and company.”

“This…isn’t with Trein or the other staff, is it?” you asked, nearly at a loss for words.

Divus chuckled again. “No, pup, it isn’t.” His fingertip tapped the underside of your chin. “Do you understand?”

Your nod was shaky, along with your words. “Y-Yes, I do.”

“Good dog~” He pulled away from you in that instance. “I look forward to it.”

He stood from his seat and took his glass. He then grabbed your can of soda, shook it a little, then placed it back on the table. “Your can is near empty.” He held up his glass as he offered, “Would you like a drink?”

Somehow, you managed to regain your composure. “Yes, I would, thank you.”

“Preference?”

A smile tugged at your lips as he met his eye. “I trust your judgement.”

Divus seemed to take that as more than just picking your drink. Though his smile held its usual charm, you could spy a certain softness creep into those silver gray eyes. He gave a small nod, “I’ll be back shortly.”

With that, he turned and walked away. Even when he left, you couldn’t help but keep smiling. Even when a certain housewarden got into an argument with a certain twin, you wore that smile through your whole mediation of the situation. You loved your job, you really did…but summer break couldn’t come soon enough. Who knows - maybe a certain lifeguard might come to your aide.

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lingerina · 7 months

Text

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 // day four

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 ➤ toys/strap 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ➤ 1.2k words 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ➤ mean dom succubus!winter x fem!reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ➤ tail fcking, monster fcking, overstimulation, squirting 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ➤ there are pros and cons to being friends with someone who hunts the paranormal for a living. 𝐀/𝐍 ➤ i know i’m so far behind. i’m trying to catch up but i caught up in some plans this week. i’m gonna try to keep going especially since i give up easily lol. this is probably my favorite one so far? i just love spooky things lol i hope y’all enjoy this too ♡

Being acquainted with someone who’s heavily involved in ghost hunting and summoning the dead always sparked a bit of concern, but never up to this level.

They had just landed after flying out of the country for a week and swung by your residence to return something they had borrowed. They briefly stepped into the house for water, a short conversation, and to give you a souvenir from their travels. Ever since that day, you’ve felt like they had given you more than just a necklace.

You’ve bravely searched your closet, your bathroom, and all the corners and crevices of your bedroom to ensure that no one has made a home of your home. You could never shake off the feeling that you were being watched. As you were becoming more cautious of your home, things gradually escalated to shadow figures in your peripheral view and random knocks on the walls and ceilings.

Three knocks.

Things would sometimes be out of place if you really thought about it. The bottle of cleanser would end up from the bathroom counter to the sink. Your fuzzy slippers that were on the left side of your bed were found on the other side the next morning. The pair of earrings that you left on your nightstand would show up in a drawer after twenty minutes of scavenging for it.

But continuously denying that there was a presence in your living space ramped up the activity.

Items started to be thrown across the room right in front of you. You’d find lipstick streaks all over the mirrors, chairs would be haphazardly tossed around when you came home, and cabinet doors slamming open would disrupt your already-troubled slumber.

You hear the cabinets again. Still, you choose to ignore it. You shut your eyes, fist your covers in a tighter grip, and pull it over your head in an attempt to go back to sleep. Not a second later, they are immediately torn off you and you scream, the darkness concealing whatever intruder has found their way into your home.

But your screams are immediately gagged when a phallus is shoved into your mouth, causing you to heave and reach out to push the intruder off. Despite exerting all your strength against them, they don’t budge. It’s as if they’re a concrete wall because they somehow shove the phallus deeper into your mouth, forcing your teary eyes to roll back.

Just when you think it’s over for you, they withdraw from you. You’re spared a chance to catch your breath but you grunt when they toss their weight onto you. Following a switch of the lamp on your nightstand, a warm yellow light washes out the darkness to unveil a woman sitting on your abdomen.

Unbelievably gorgeous. Piercing dark eyes looking down at you with a smirk. Sculpted abs, soft tits, and hardened nipples. You don’t miss the sight of your strap-on harnessed around her waist and sitting snugly at her pelvis. As you’re always the one on that end with other women, heat rushes through your limbs and straight to your core at the possibility of you finally receiving what you’ve given others.

Something peeks from behind her.

Dark. Slim. A pointed end.

The sight of a tail catches you off-guard. Only then do you notice the pair of horns that adorn the crown of her head.

The three knocks. The aggressive activity. The faint voices.

It all makes sense.

… Somewhat..

She chuckles. “You can deny me no longer, pretty girl.”

You may be horny but the pretty devil mounted upon you is still a stranger and a creature nonetheless. She reaches for your wrists but you attempt to retaliate, fighting back against her and wriggling to toss her off you. But the tussle is effortless for her, and she remains seated on you as she pins your wrists above your head.

“Who are you?!,” you demand with furrowed eyebrows.

“Winter.”

A light touch flutters over your clothed crotch. Strangely enough, considering both of her hands are binding your wrists.

She dips lower, hovering a mere inch from your face with a smile as the feathery touch slips under your soiled panties. You yearn for touch, but equip a frown to mask your neediness. The last thing you want to do is beg for a demon to fuck you.

Even if the demon is smoking hot.

You rut your hips from side to side, grunting as you continue trying to escape. Your futile attempts only make her giggle. She’s the only one laughing once the pointed tip of her tail slithers between your folds and into your awaiting hole.

As slim as the intrusion is, it’s still an odd sensation. It barely registers in your brain that this woman’s tail is maneuvering inside you, but Winter is delighted by your reaction–or lack thereof.

You’ve discovered the answer to your paranormal problems.

You should be searching up local priests to exorcise your home. You should be seeking shelter elsewhere in the meantime while you try to get help.

But Winter has so far proven to be harmless. The only harm she’s causing is the ruthless pace of her hips as the fake cock harnessed on her abuses your squelching cunt.

With your duvet thrown off the bed, you’re propped on your knees. Your arms are held behind your back with your wrists bound by her hands. Your room reverberates with the solid clashes of silicone against slick flesh, hollowed out by your panting and groaning as she fucks you senseless. Any concerns regarding the demon haunting your residence are railed out of you because how could you ever want her gone when she’s giving you what no human has ever been able to give you?

“Such a pretty baby,” she coos in between pants, grinning as she observes the massive dildo disappearing into you with each thrust. “You want me to stop, hm?”

You shake your head with a sob. “Please, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

“Of course you don’t. Whore.”

Winter spares no mercy. She may have a dainty build, but she has the strength of a machine. Her hips don’t slack, despite the multiple orgasms she has already put you through, and your inability to shut your legs on her is why they start violently trembling. You’re certain you’re about to slip off your knees because your body is acting out due to the mind breaking ecstasy that looms over you once more. You ball your hands into fists, moaning and crying out. Once you see stars, the dam bursts a final time and you soak the sheets beneath you.

Your release is plentiful. Plenty enough to eject the dildo. You sink down into the cushioned surface, twitching and shuddering. There’s no longer a grip on your wrists, and you subconsciously seize the liberty of moving your hands to your pillow.

The mattress gradually rises as Winter slides off and stands next to your bed. Gentle strokes of your hair lulls you to dreamland, but you fight back the slumber for a minute to watch her as she steps back.

“Goodnight, darling,” she bids with a less devilish grin. “I’ll visit again soon.”

One blink, and she’s gone with the wind. The energy that once fueled the threatening activity in your home has now settled. It’s finally tranquil, as if it was never haunted in the first place.

For once, you can finally fall asleep.

#girl group smut #aespa smut #winter smut #girl group imagines #aespa imagines #winter imagines #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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mrsvalentinefucker1 · 1 month

Text

Tight space

Sniper x f!reader

You and sniper were running at full speed looking for somewhere to hide as the opposing teams spy tailed you. Though there was practically nothing either of you could do considering you had no ammo and no one was around, you managed to find a small place to hide. It looked to be another spot sniper was familiar with, one he’s definitely been in while doing his job. You both bolted towards it, you tried to keep up with sniper as best as you could. When you two finally reached the door Sniper shouted for you to hurry as he held the door open waiting for you. Once you got in Sniper quickly jumped in and slammed the door. He slid his knife through the handle to make sure the Spy couldn’t pull it open.

Your breathing was uneven and heavy

Sniper motioned to you to quiet down as he head the footsteps around your hiding place.

You nodded and steadied your breathing.

You two were incredibly close with one another right now.. and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t kind of turn you on in a weird way.

You admired Snipers calm composure.. how he was so calm in this situation, you didn’t know.

A loud thud pulled you out of your imagination and you were slung into the man’s chest earning a grunt from him. One of his free hands instinctively grabbed you while his other held onto the small wall to hold himself up.

You looked up at him, your ear on his chest.. hearing his heartbeat was an indescribable feeling. You felt safe, even with everything going on outside of your shared hiding place.

“You okay?” He looked around and then down at you, locking eyes through his yellow tinted sunglasses.

You stood back up straight “yeah- sorry.”

“No worries.”

You looked the man up and down, stopping when you noticed a growing bulge in his pants.

You averted your eyes hoping he didn’t catch you staring

“Sorry about that- it kind of just happens yaknow?” Sniper whispered

You nodded as your face was heating up. The way he whispered sent chills down your spine. God the way he spoke.

You clenched your legs together.

“Can you see anything?”

“No, unfortunately not, Shiela” sniper looked down at your smaller form.

You unconsciously squirmed from his gaze

“You doing okay?”

You nodded “just- hot-“

“You sure?” Sniper smirked at you

“O- of course.. what else would it be?” You looked down at your feet

“I dunno, you weren’t acting all this weird before I caught you staring.”

You locked eyes with Sniper “I wasn’t staring” you rolled your eyes

Sniper chuckled. “We’re here all alone, no one can hear you but me” Sniper moves closer towards you and let his gloved hand tilt your face in his direction. “Come on bird.”

His hard cock poking your stomach as he nudged your face

Your face was burning “oh god.. you know I love when you say that.”

He hummed in response, dipping his lips down to leave small bites and hickeys down your neck and collarbone.

“Sniper..” you whimpered out

“Yeah, roo?”

You sighed “Please stop teasing me..” you whispered

“Sounds like someone’s more eager than I am.” He chuckled

His low chuckles always sent a jolt of energy through your body

“Alright then, be a good girl and turn around for me.”

You did what you were told. Sniper came up behind you, fiddling with your belt as he kissed and nipped at your neck more, leaving sharp, dark bites from his teeth.

His gloved hand made its way to your clothed pussy. Teasingly stroking your clit through your panties that seemed to get more wet through the second.

“Soaking through your panties already? Naughty girl, Y/n”

He slipped underneath your panties and started messing with your soaked, slick, sticky folds.

You moaned in response “please Mick.. just“ you attempted to grind against the man

“Oh y/n.. you know I can’t ever say no to ya’.” He undid his pants, peeled back the fabric of his boxers and allowed his cock to spring free against you.

He had to lift your smaller body up while he lined his cock up with your soaked hole.

He slipped the tip in and the used both of his hands to hold you just slightly off of the ground as you held onto the wall in front of you

He was literally using you as his own personal sex doll.

“Fuck, you’re so tight..” he muttered out as he began to fuck into you slowly. Gently kissing your shoulders and neck. His cock pressing deliciously against your cervix.

You bit your lip. Muffling your moans as he finally began to pick up the pace your legs shaking and dangling freely as he did so.

“No, don’t silence yourself. Be as loud as you want, baby.”

His cock pierced into you as you gripped onto the wall for dear life. Your orgasm was fast approaching and by the sounds of his uneven breathing and sharp, low moans, he was too.

You let out a loud moan as he continued to fuck into you. Your walls clenching around him “fuck! Harder! Please m-Mick. Harder! I’m so close oh god-“ you had a blissful fucked out dazed expression across your face as you felt his hard cock press against your tummy. A small bulge forming as he fucked harder into your tight cunt

“Good girl, this cunts mine, huh? Nobody else’s” his voice was low and oh god.. that accent could make a pornstar blush. You only mumbled at his words “fuck, oh good god, yes!-“

His orgasm crashed into him as he fucked into you, his hot cum leaving a heavy feeling inside of your lower tummy. It sent shocks down your spine as your own orgasm rushed over you. His grip tightened as you milked him for every last drop of his hot sticky cum. He groaned and held you there, pulling you back onto his cock harshly while you two worked through your orgasm. He loomed over you while the two of you stayed put. A loud bang fell onto the door. A bullet shot right past the two of you. You instinctively clenched around him as you gasped out of fear. Sniper hissing at the feeling

“I can hear you both. How disgusting, you filthy bushman. During battle of all times?”

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sunnybeewriting · 1 year

Text

peachy keen. Part Three

Words. Why are they so damn hard sometimes?

Holy smokes, I’m sorry it took me so long to do this chapter! I won’t lie, I defiantly needed some time to get my brain to write again, but I’m here now! Also, I just wanted to say again how much everybody’s likes and reblogs and comments mean to me! So far everybody has been so sweet and encouraging, and it makes me so happy! I’m so glad people seem to like Peach and peachy keen.

Also, if I don't reply directly to you, whether you reblog or comment or are anonymous, I still read and love them all! Every comment makes my day!

We’re getting pretty close to halfway through this story, so thank you again! If you like this chapter, please leave a like or a comment!

WORDS: 10.6k

WARNINGS: Adult Language, Sexual Tension (I'm sorry!)

Sweat stings your eyes and makes your sight blurry as you gasp for air, gripping your knife so tightly in your right hand that it hurts the cut on your palm.

The muscles in your thighs, shoulders, and arms burn with exhaustion, begging for rest. Your teeth are gritted in wild determination, chest heaving.

Quaritch stands a few feet from you, tail whipping behind him and body lowered into a half-crouch. His right hand clenches around his own knife, much bigger than yours, and he grasps it much less harshly than you do. His breathing is even, but there is the slightest, barest sheen of sweat on his forehead.

That fact might be inadequate to others, but to you, it is clear, proud evidence of your progress.

You grin fiercely at the sight and he bares his sharp teeth back. They glint in the daylight before his mouth stretches into his own feral smile.

The muscles in your legs tighten and you lunge toward Quaritch, blade stretched out in front of you as you swipe toward his shoulder.

He jerks to the side and your knife misses him by a scant inch. You stop your body from being thrown off course by your body weight, tightening the muscles of your core and jerking to a halt.

You whirl around to face Quaritch again and barely have time to duck your head to avoid getting a knife in the face.

Quaritch doesn’t stop there, using his close proximity to grab your right arm with the hand not holding his knife. His hand wraps around your slender wrist easily, broad fingers overlapping. He jerks you in close to him by your arm and you crash face-first into his chest with a grunt, knife raising to slice at him on instinct.

He drops his knife to the ground to free his other hand, and he grabs your wrist tightly just in time to stop the blade from slicing through the fabric of his tank top and into his skin.

You struggle in his grip, face and torso pressed against his chest, both wrists caught in his grasp. You jerk your arms back and forth in an effort to loosen his grip, leaning your body backward, but he doesn’t budge.

You glare up at him, angry yellow eyes matching the color of his amused ones, and you growl when his body doesn’t move an inch even with you pushing away from him with your entire weight. Your nose scrunches up, sharp teeth showing as you snarl at him.

He smirks at your attempt to intimidate him and tightens his grip to the point of pain.

Aching lightning shoots up your wrists into your arms, and your growl turns into a yelp real fast.

“You done fightin’, sweetheart?”

Anger flares deep in your stomach at his patronizing tone, and you cry out as your vigor to remove yourself from him returns with gusto.

“I’m going to kick your ass, dickbag!”

His eyebrow raises at your ballsy words, and he chuckles.

“Yeah? How you thinkin’ you gonna do that, huh, Peach? Seems to me like I’ve got you right,” he tugs you in closer and your chest crashes right back into his, “where I want you.”

You hiss and jerk your right leg up as fast you can, knee aiming to hit him right in the balls.

Hope it hurts!

Quaritch moves to your right side just in time for your knee to hit his thigh. He takes his left leg, hooks his foot around your remaining one, and pulls.

Your leg gives out from under you and you fall backward with another surprised yelp, landing hard on your back. Air whooshes out of you for half a second as you gasp, and then you’re struggling to sit up, eager to get in at least one hit for the day.

But Quaritch is too fast for you and he grabs your arms, flipping you quickly over onto your stomach. You struggle fiercely as he squeezes both your wrists behind your back with one large hand, legs kicking up as best you can whilst on your belly.

He kneels over your pinned body, chest pressed solidly against your back. His face lowers down close to your ear, and goosebumps erupt over your body when his breath puffs out across the sensitive skin of your neck and ears. Your ears twitch frantically as he comes closer, and he whispers softly, so soft you can barely hear it,

“Looks like you’re mine, Peach.”

You grunt one last time before falling limp and pressing your face into the ground in submission.

Your heart thunders in your chest so harshly you can hear it in your ears and you pant, trying to slow it down. You lay there for another ten seconds, eyes squeezed shut, before you distantly realize that Quaritch has yet to release you from his grip, nor remove his chest from your back.

You blearily open your eyes and turn your head to where Quaritch is positioned, wondering what the hell is taking him so long to let you up.

Quaritch’s wild eyes sear into your own when you move. Your stomach swoops low when you see the hungry look in them. You stare at each other, chests heaving in tandem, and your pounding heart lurches unsteadily in your chest. You can feel the bare skin of his shoulders and arms forced against yours.

Slowly, one finger at a time, he unclenches his fingers from around your wrists. They were so tight you distantly wonder if they will leave finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

You blink at the relief of blood rushing back into your arms, and the spell between you is broken.

Quaritch blinks rapidly, the untamed look behind his eyes fading slightly as he realizes he still has you pinned. He slowly, almost reluctantly, moves his chest from your back, and suddenly you can breathe. You hadn’t even realized he was pressing so much of his heavy weight on you that you were breathless from it.

Fresh, sweet air rushes into your lungs, and your heart finally starts to slow. You lower your wobbly arms to your sides and start pressing upwards, raising your chest off the ground.

Little pieces of gravel cling to your tank top and you shakily lift a hand to dust them off. You lean back on your knees, and as you are about to shakily pull yourself to your feet, a great, blue hand drifts into your eyesight.

You look up, surprised, and yep, Quaritch is holding his hand out for you to grab in a very startling, very suspicious show of uncharacteristic generosity.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously up at him from your position on your knees kneeling before him, almost certain that the second you reached for it he would pull his hand back like an elementary school bully. You glance at him, and he simply quirks his eyebrow, as if saying, ‘Well? You gonna be a pussy?’.

You hesitantly place your hand into his. He adjusts his grip until he’s holding your hand firmly, and then with the tiniest of tugs, he lifts you up quickly, as though you weigh nothing more than air.

You go flying, almost crashing face-first into his chest again. Luckily enough for your nose and forehead, which still ache from the first time, you are able to stop yourself by bracing a hand against his chest. Your fingers brush against the cool metal of his dog tags.

His chest heaves once, twice, before you are tearing yourself away and stepping three paces back.

“You know, Peach, I almost miss when you were floppin’ around, all loose-limbed and wobbly legs, like a newborn foal. It was fuckin’ hilarious.”

You roll your eyes hard but don’t take his snobby words to heart. That was the thing about Quaritch; if you let him, he’ll poke and poke and poke until you either snap and scream at him or wilt into a pile of tears, just because he’s so damn relentless.

You, on the other hand, had done the only correct thing you could when faced with someone as seemingly mean as Quaritch; you let the things he says roll right off your back. You have to be careful when listening to Quaritch, have to dig deep and pick out all the little words that mean nothing until you're left with the bare bones of what he really means. Ignore his intimidation tactics, ignore his insults, and listen.

Otherwise, his asshole attitude and mean words would just drive a person crazy.

He disguises his compliments inside insults just because he can. And while that may not be good enough for other people, it certainly was enough for you. It was so much better than the irritated snaps and pissy words he would throw at you at the beginning when you were learning the basics, so you’ll gladly take whatever you can get.

Speaking with Quaritch is like speaking an entirely new language.

“Thanks, Quaritch,” you say breathlessly, taking his words for what they really were: a compliment.

He grins at you, smacking you on your sweaty back harshly. Air once again flees your lungs and your knees threaten to give out, but you stay standing simply for the sake of your pride.

“Got enough energy for another round, or you too tired?” he asks smugly.

“Yeah, no, I think I’m done for the day, sorry,” you gasp without shame. It’s a miracle you’re even able to form words right now, really.

He barks out a laugh. “Pussy.”

Quaritch tilts his head up toward the shining sky. Daylight catches in his yellow eyes and turns them a warm, molten gold. It steals the breath from your chest for just a moment, and you stare, caught and unable to look away.

You don’t even realize you’re practically gawking at him, looking like a stunned idiot, before he turns his head back down toward you and shoots you a glower. “What?”

You blink frantically and look down, flustered at being caught. Your hands rise to rub at your eyes, as though you are trying to clear them after staring into the bright sun for too long. “Nothing!”

He looks skeptical but lets it go. His eyes flicker down to your cheek, and he blinks.

Before you can startle or move away, Quaritch lifts his hand and brushes the back of his index finger against the soft skin of your blue cheek. His hand is back at his side so fast you can hardly believe it had happened at all.

You freeze, mind blank as you struggle to understand what just happened. You fully gawk at him now, confused and shocked at the unexpectedly tender action.

Uh. What?

Quaritch blows on his finger and then seems to notice your startled expression. He glares at you, clearly annoyed. “What? You had an eyelash on your cheek. You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He sneers at you, crossing his arms almost defensively over his chest.

You dazedly press a hand softly against the cheek he had brushed against, skin still tingling there. Even if there had been an eyelash there, you can hardly believe he had actually willingly done such a tender act. You can’t imagine him doing that to any of the other members of his team, or even yours.

You suddenly think of him brushing an eyelash from David’s cheek, who gazes up at him as adoringly as you probably had.

The mental image is almost enough to make you giggle hysterically. It is enough to make you a little nauseous.

“Right, right, sorry. Uh, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

His gaze seems to linger on you, eyes flickering over your face and tail flicking erratically behind him. His lips seem to twitch up just slightly at the corners. He rubs the finger he used to brush your cheek, and you wonder if his skin was also tingling. Eventually, Quaritch nods in acquiescence before moving toward the gate of the courtyard.

“See you ‘round, Peach.”

------

You’ve been in Bridgehead for over two months now, but this is the first day it rains.

You stand outside in your Avatar, head tilted back, eyes fluttered closed. It’s hard to say that it’s raining, really; it’s more of a very light, misty drizzle. The raindrops are so small that they seem to dissipate into the air by the time they reach you. Only a few are thick enough to splatter against your face and the concrete ground, but it’s still enough to make the corners of your mouth tilt up into a small, satisfied smile.

Rain back on Earth was not as fresh or clean as the water pouring from the skies of Pandora. Many places on Earth experienced droughts, rain rarely appearing. Other places were constantly wet, soaked with rain that smelled and tasted almost sharp, sour. The rain there was unbalanced, like most of the things back home.

On Pandora, though, it is beautiful, refreshing, clean. It smells sweet as you deeply breathe in the humid air, and every time you do it feels as though something deep in your soul is being healed, something you hadn’t realized was torn. You wonder if this is what it was like back on Earth hundreds of years ago, before all the pollution and corruption of the world.

You’d never felt anything like it before.

The dreary weather turns your small amount of clothing heavy and wet with humidity, making it stick uncomfortably against your slick blue skin. You refuse to go back inside, though, much too pleased to be out and breathing this amazing air.

The drifting clouds above you are gray and thick, full of unreleased water as they block the daylight. As a result, what little light there is reflects sadly off the metal and gray walls of Bridgehead, turning the area even more depressing than usual.

Regardless of the gloomy view, you much rather be out here than in your quarters or with the other members of your group. When you left, the most interesting thing happening was James trying to balance a pencil on his nose while your team lounged around on yet another uneventful day.

I miss Quaritch.

It’s a sudden thought, one that takes you completely by surprise and jolts you straight out of your peaceful position and mindset. It’s a strange insight when you realize you miss someone you probably shouldn’t.

But you just couldn't help it; for all that Quaritch is intimidating and an asshole, he is also really, really… entertaining.

There are a lot of bad things you could say about him and his mean personality, but one could never say he was boring. And it was almost embarrassing, how much he made you laugh. It wasn’t even until a few days ago when he had said something biting some poor soul who walked into a doorframe while staring at his holotablet, and your mouth had lifted once again into an entirely too amused smile. That was when you realized that Quaritch is fucking funny.

Your cheeks were almost hurting with how much he had amused you that day, even just by being Quaritch. There was just something about the crude, mean way things he sometimes said that just tickled you pink. Of course, it was the most amusing when his biting words weren’t directed toward you.

Quaritch has only been gone for two days, away with most of his Recombinant Unit to meet with a few RDA managers on the other side of Bridgehead. It had been a surprise trip, and he left the morning after your last lesson with him. Really, you would have much preferred to go with him, just so you could see the way Quaritch would surely loom over a few tiny, terrified paper-pushers, rolling his eyes at anything they had to say. You would have paid good money to see that.

Spending all this time with Quaritch is kind of making me heartless.

Instead, you’d spent those two days almost bored to tears, waiting impatiently for him to return so you could be entertained.

Quaritch had left you with a sly smirk and another hard smack on your shoulder, promising to return in two days to continue with, as he said, “Our pansy-ass tree-hugger lectures”. He had also promised to be back soon enough to keep kicking your ass in combat.

Asshole.

You pretend not to notice the slight twinge of fondness accompanying that thought.

He’d said he back this afternoon and that you’d continue your lessons tomorrow. It’s completely unfair how much you look forward to seeing that douchebag again.

“What are you doing out here all alone, hm?” Margot’s voice from behind makes you startle slightly, too lost in your thoughts to have noticed the sound of her approaching footsteps even with your ridiculously sensitive ears.

You smile and turn your head to look at her as she comes to a stop to your left. Her Avatar stands just over you by around two inches, but it is still enough to make you tilt your head back just slightly to meet her wide, yellow-green eyes. While your Avatar is just a little bit plusher than a typical Na’vi, in accordance with your human body, Margot’s is thin and tall. She’s beautiful in her human form, but there is just something…ethereal, about these bodies.

Truly, the strength, the agility, the beauty. It simply put human bodies to shame.

You’d spent an embarrassingly long time in front of a mirror when you first started linking, too consumed with awe to do much else but look. Wide, doe-like eyes covered by thick, long eyelashes, not unlike your human body. Sweet, round face, body made more slender by the natural physiology of the Na’vi. It was you, but different.

“What, am I missing something interesting back at the center?” you puff softly in disbelief. “The only thing even remotely entertaining is watching David make a fool of himself again, and even that is getting boring.”

Margot smiles and tilts her head in agreement, crossing her arms over her chest as she says, “Well, you got me there.”

You puff lightly again, this time more in irritation than disbelief. Your arms fold in front of your chest, unconsciously mirroring Margot’s stance. “Really, what’s the point of even being here if we aren’t going to do anything that actually means something? I’m tired of sitting around and staring at the walls all the damn time. It’s been two months and we should be out there, doing what we came here for!”

Fierce annoyance at the RDA suddenly bubbles in your stomach and makes your fists clench. You were a scientist for Christ’s sake, you weren’t meant to just sit around and do fuck all for the rest of your life. You needed to be out in the world, feeling and breathing in nature and science. You’d go crazy if you didn’t do something soon.

You can’t wait until you’re out in Pandora, hearing the breeze ruffle the leaves of the trees. To hear the loud, overwhelming noise of rushing water from a natural waterfall and not a man-made construct. To actually see and experience nature in real life and not through a screen

It had only been three days since Miss Hall had mentioned your team’s first outing into the wilderness of Pandora, but she claims to have received no word from the RDA about when that would happen.

Soon, she promised, but soon could not come fast enough for you.

Margot sighs. “I know. This fucking sucks, but we’ll be out before we know it. And hey, take the time to enjoy the peace and quiet for now. We’ll be up to our tits in research and paperwork soon, and then you’ll be wishing for time off.”

She pops her hip into yours and you wobble to the side. The brief anger that controlled you flees just as fast as it had come. Your hands unclench and your arms fall to your sides.

“Yeah, that’s true. I guess.” You mutter the last two words grumpily, pouting just a little bit.

Margot laughs and uncrosses her arms to throw one around your shoulders.

“We’ll be alright.”

She tilts her head back just as you had a few moments ago, breathing in the sweet air deeply. Her next words are quiet, tinged with heavy melancholy.

“You know, I always wondered what the Earth was like before we came. Do you think there was rain like this?”

You look up at the gray sky yourself. While the color matched the clouds back on Earth, these would eventually dissipate, replaced by a strong, blazing light that warmed everything it touched.

The pollution clouds back home were there to stay.

You swallow. “Yeah. I think there was.”

------

A few hours later, just before the eclipse begins to bring darkness over Bridgehead, you lay your Avatar down to rest in the sleeping quarters and link back into your human body. You were in your Avatar for over six hours, which means you now have a persistent headache that pounds sharply at your temples, a growling stomach, and an irritatingly full bladder.

After relieving yourself and walking to the mess hall to stuff yourself full of sandwiches and coffee, you march back to your room. You lay on your back atop your stiff mattress, staring vacantly up at the blank white ceiling as you struggle to think of something that would entertain you.

When no miracle suggestion arrives in your brain, you huff and sit back up. As you do, you catch sight of something brightly colored laying on your desk, and a wonderful, awful idea pops into your head. You rise from your bed and pad over to your desk and carefully pick the small thing up, raising it closer to your face so you could look at the details.

It’s a simple little thing, about the size of your palm. Small blue strings of beads connect to a green, rock-like pendant, and on the top is a metal circle for attaching a chain or cord to it like a necklace. The Na’vi words of tihawnu and hafyonr were etched into the pendant.

Protection and wisdom.

You’d spent hours on finding the right materials for creating it, marching all across Bridgehead. Then you’d spent hours modeling it.

You made it for Quaritch.

The Na’vi have many pieces of jewelry, clothing, headpieces, and other items they wear with pride, items that have great meaning to them. You got the idea to make it for Quaritch the day he left, as something to give him when he got back. You figured it would be nice for him to have something other than just your words, pictures, and videos about the Na’vi, something tangible that he could actually hold. It wasn’t an authentic piece of Na’vi culture, but it would do.

He's probably back by now. Maybe I should just take it to him.

You consider the thought just briefly before thinking, why not? Not like I’m very fucking busy at the moment.

With that you put your shoes back on, fix your hair, and then you’re walking out the door.

As you make your way toward Quaritch’s room, you begin to have second thoughts. It’s entirely possible he won’t even be back yet, still stuck in meetings. Or maybe he is back, but he laughs right in your face when you give him the pendent, calling you all the stupid and, frankly, uncreative little nicknames he has for you.

Nerves begin to invade as your mind goes over every possibility, your gut twisting. Your face begins to scrunch up in a tight frown, eyebrows furrowing as you scowl darkly at your feet as you walk.

It’s fine, if he doesn’t like it then he doesn’t have to wear it! I’ll take it back and give it to someone who appreciates what I do, like Margot. Maybe I’ll even give it to David!

You think for a moment before wincing, quickly discarding that idea. You’d rather throw it straight into the garbage than give it to David of all people. The asshole would probably just think you were coming onto him or some shit like that.

You arrive at his door much quicker than you hoped, stopping in front and taking another moment to smooth down your clothes and take a deep breath. Then you hesitantly raise your right fist and knock three times on the door. If you can even call it knocking; they’re more light taps than anything else.

When you hear no movement or any footsteps approach the door, you knock three more times, this time making sure it’s loud and clear to hear.

Still, no one opens the door.

Fine with me!

Just as you turn to leave, ridiculously relieved he wasn’t even there, a deep, loud voice booms out from behind you on the other side of the hallway.

“Hey!”

You startle, heart leaping into your throat as you whirl around with wide eyes.

Standing before you is a Recom Unit soldier, one you’ve never seen around Bridgehead before. He’s almost as tall as Quaritch, but not quite as muscled, more lean. While most of the other Recom members you’ve seen have their hair shaved fairly close to their scalps, his is almost long in comparison, even if it is only by a few inches. He’s covered in all kinds of tattoos, wearing the usual green tank top and camo shorts of his unit. The only thing unusual about him is the way he looks even younger than any of the other Recoms.

His wide eyes seem to sparkle as he eats up the remaining distance between you in just two long strides, standing before you with a sharp-toothed, youthful grin. He comes to a stop only a foot from you and you have to take another two steps back to see him correctly. Even then, you have to crank your head back.

“Oh! Uh, hi?” you say nervously. What the hell does this guy even want?

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you! I saw you knocking on Colonel Quaritch’s door. You gotta be Peach, right?” he asks. His smile doesn’t fade even a little bit as he talks.

Your eyebrows rise in surprise before you can help yourself.

Peach? How the hell does this guy know about Quaritch’s little nickname for you? Quaritch can’t have mentioned you to his team in enough detail that they’d be able to spot you standing in a random hall, could he?

Your surprise must show on your face because his grin softens into something a little more genuine. That fierce sparkle never leaves his eyes, though.

“Must wonder how I know you, huh? Quaritch told us all about your little arrangement.”

…Really?

You can’t help your skepticism; you’d never have thought Quaritch would willingly admit to his Recombinants that he needed help with something, let alone help from a ‘science puke’.

The man laughs at the look on your face, eyes scrunching up at the corners. He leans his torso down just slightly to look you better in the eye before he says, “You know, he talks about you a lot. Well, a lot for a man like Quaritch. If you want, I can take you to see him.”

Your mind wavers, torn between being utterly bewildered at the thought of Quaritch talking about you, a lot, apparently, and between considering whether the effort of going with this random stranger to find Quaritch was even worth it.

Eventually, you sigh and nod your head reluctantly in agreement. It’d be much weirder if you backed down now. And besides, you’d already made all this effort. Might as well see it through.

“Uh, yeah, thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

The young man’s grin grows even sharper. He straightens up and sticks his hand out in greeting.

“Cool! My name’s Leo Williams, but you can just call me Williams. If you just follow me, I’ll take you right to the Colonel.”

You clasp his hand with your right hand as best you can, and your entire arm moves up and down with his force as he shakes you vigorously.

This guy is like an excited little puppy.

He releases your arm and then turns around back toward where he came from. He takes three long strides before you remember you’re supposed to be following after him, and you lurch toward his direction, walking quickly to reach him before he rounds the corner of the hallway.

You catch up to him just in time before he leaves your sight. You have to fast walk to keep up with his ridiculous pace, almost jogging at one point. Luckily for you, he seems to notice your predicament, and he slows down with a sheepish grin until you’re walking much easier. While your Avatar body was now in shape and could walk and run easily without even getting out of breath, your original body is defiantly not in such good condition. Especially with all the muffins and coffee you’ve been having these past two months to stave off the boredom.

You walk for a few more minutes before you gather the courage to squeak out, “What have you heard of me?”

“Oh, nothing all that interesting. Quaritch just likes to bitch about the lessons he has to take with you. ‘If you wanna find the Na’vi, you gotta think like the Na’vi’. You know, that kind of shit.” Williams laughs, tossing up air quotes as he mocks Quaritch’s deep voice and unique way of speech. He playfully rolls his eyes when he’s done, looking down at you and shooting you another grin.

“Oh.” You say simply, dejectedly. You scowl at the floor as you continue your path.

It was expected that he’d complain about it, but still. He could be less of a dick about it.

Now that you got him talking, Williams doesn’t shut up for the next twenty minutes. He leads you out of the building, across several busy platforms, and into another building you’ve never been in before. He chats all the while, seemingly about nothing of any importance. He only pauses a few times to let you respond to his questions or give your own opinion before he’s off again, talking about something completely different.

By the time you seemingly reach your destination, you are sorely missing Quaritch’s biting words. At least with him there were comfortable pauses of silence.

You both walk through the sliding glass doors and into a wide area, passing all sorts of massive workout machinery and equipment. Dumbbells the size of your torso litter the ground. Large mirrors reflect your image and the bright, fluorescent lights across the entire area, and you look at your reflection. Just as you thought, you look ridiculously small and insignificant walking next to the giant, bright blue Williams.

This must be the gym area for the Recom Unit. It looks like a playground for giants.

“Well, look who it is. Where the hell you been, Williams?” As you turn a corner, another Recom member pops out of nowhere, slowly setting down the jump ropes he’d been using. He’s panting a little bit, completely shirtless with dark, tattooed words and patterns across his arms, chest, and navel.

“Ah, sorry! I got a little distracted with some of the software I’ve been working on, took me a bit longer than I thought it would to finish. Then I ran into a little someone knocking on Quaritch’s door.” He looks down at you, grinning sheepishly.

Another one comes out of a room full of treadmills. She’s almost as tall as the men she comes to a stop in front of you. Just like the rest of the others you’ve seen, her arms and part of her upper chest are covered in tattoos. But while theirs had been dark and mostly black, hers are full of vibrant yellows, reds, purples, and blues. The colors stand out starkly against her bright blue skin, but the contrast is beautiful. Her hair is pulled back into almost a mohawk style, and she wore it well.

Her golden eyes pierce yours as she looks down at you. Her mouth pulls up into a skeptical sneer.

You suddenly realize you’re completely surrounded by three massive, tattoo-covered, insanely muscular humanoids who excel in combat and are total strangers to you. You can easily admit to yourself that you’re intimidated. Not because you fear for your safety or anything, but because you can only dream about becoming as good as these guys. Only the best of the best can be a part of Quaritch’s team; you know he expects nothing less.

They tower over you by several feet, and you feel like a tiny mouse caught by three giant cats.

Your already fast heartbeat picks up in your chest and you can feel a cold sweat trying to break out on your body. Your face burns from the intense attention you suddenly find yourself the center of. If you had known this would have happened when you knocked on Quaritch’s door, you would have said fuck it and booked it out of there as fast as you could. You’re not afraid, but goddamn are you nervous right now. You really, really want to make a good impression on these people. You’re nowhere near their skill level, and you really wish you were in your Avatar. At least then you’d have some level on them, even if it was minuscule. And you wouldn’t feel so small.

The woman seems to notice your increasing nerves, but thankfully she doesn’t point it out to make fun. Instead, her smirk grows wider and her eyes sharpen.

“What’s this little pipsqueak doing with a knucklehead like you, huh, Williams?” The woman asks, crossing her arms over her chest. The motion causes her biceps to bulge under her tattoos, and she pops her bright pink bubblegum as she scans your body up and down. Her eyebrow raises, expectantly waiting for an answer.

You swallow and lift a hand in a quick nervous wave. You introduce yourself by your first name and weakly say, “Uh, hi! I’m just here for Quaritch, I’ve got something for him.”

“‘Here for Quaritch’, huh?” The woman snickers. She looks you over again slower and much more obviously, this time with less of a calculative look and more of something with a strange gleam in her eye. She smirks when she meets your wide-eyed gaze again, before she loudly says, “You must be Peach.”

Goddamnit! I might as well change that to my permanent name at this point!

Your lips thin, but you manage to laugh weakly and mutter, “Yeah, guess that’s me.”

“Hm. Well, it’s about time you met some of the unit, given that Colonel Quaritch is the head of our team. My name’s Z-Dog,” she pops her gum for emphasis, smug smile never leaving her face, “This asshole here is Lopez. He’s a quiet guy, you won’t be hearing much from him.”

Z-Dog smacks a hand across Lopez’s back, and the cracking sound of her hand making contact with his bare skin and the sheer force of the hit makes you wince. If she ever hit you with even half of that strength, you’d have a dark bruise spanning your entire back for at least a month.

Lopez doesn’t even seem to feel it, though, not even moving an inch from the force or grimacing. Instead, he just rolls his eyes at Z-Dog’s words and starts rubbing his hands with a nearby towel.

You have to wonder if hitting each other isn’t just a Quaritch thing, but something the Recom Unit as a whole just likes to do.

Lopez looks you over in the same considering way Williams and Z-Dog had. While you had been able to figure out at least a little bit of their thoughts, Lopez is a blank slate, expression stoic. His yellow eyes simply flick over you once before returning your gaze.

“And you obviously already met Williams. You need to watch your things when he’s around, the little shit likes to nick stuff when you aren’t paying attention.” She glares pointedly at Williams, who laughs guiltily but nods his head in agreement.

“Hey, I only take the things you aren’t going to be using! And I give them back eventually, you gotta admit that.”

Z-Dog scoffs and rolls her eyes but relents and turns her attention back to you. She tilts her head in consideration as she stares down at you. Her smirk grows salacious.

“So. You got something for Quaritch, huh? Can we see it?” The tone of her voice as she speaks makes it seem as though she doesn’t really think you have anything to show her.

Why else would I be here for Quaritch if I didn’t have something to say or give him?

“Couldn’t you have waited and given it to him tomorrow morning? Don’t you guys have your little, uh, lessons, then?” Z-Dog snickers and adjusts her hips just slightly enough for it to be suggestive. Lopez rolls his eyes and elbows her hard in the side of her stomach, but you can see his own small, crude smirk. Williams looks like he’s barely able to hold in his own laugh, rubbing at his jaw and flushing a light lilac.

No way.

You barely keep from gasping and clutching at your neck like you have pearls, but only just. If you had thought your face was red before, it’s nothing compared to the fire that spreads through your cheeks, ears, and all the way down your chest. Embarrassment and surprise are shockwaves through your limbs.

They totally think we’re fucking! Oh my god! Why?!

Their insinuations were not at all subtle, probably trying to get a reaction from you.

God, these fuckers are just like Quaritch.

You swallow thickly, dignity and pride fleeing from you quickly. They must think you’re some sort of pet for Quaritch, dropping everything to come when he calls. They think your lessons and training sessions are just when you and Quaritch-when you and Quaritch-

Oh, this is so humiliating! Why can’t they just act like grownups and not middle school boys! They’re making fun of you!

The overwhelming embarrassment coursing through you lights an angry fire in your stomach. Your fists clench at your sides, eyebrows furrowing.

“No, I can’t show it to you because it’s confidential, and I know that Quaritch does not like to be kept waiting, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll be heading to him now.” The snap doesn’t come out as aggressive as you wanted it to, but the point gets across.

Z-Dog keeps snickering but relents, throwing her hands up. “Alright pipsqueak, we were just making fun. Williams will take you to him, don’t worry your pretty little head.”

Your anger blows away like smoke and you blink, relaxing your fists.

Well, that was easy.

“Besides, wouldn’t want to keep Quaritch waiting for his girl any longer, huh?”

Never mind.

You scowl but let it go. She’s just poking at you, trying to see how long it’ll take for you to blow. Just like Quaritch, really.

You turn your frown into a tight smile. “Thanks for your help.”

Z-Dog scans your face for anything else she can use to make you angry, before sighing deeply. She crosses her arms over her chest once more, and her smirk becomes just slightly more genuine.

“You know, I think I kind of like you, almost as much as the Colonel does. Guess we’ll see you around. Maybe you’ll meet more of the squad soon.” Z-Dog shoots you one last smirk. Lopez rolls his eyes at her again but gives you a tiny nod goodbye, and then they’re off, sauntering out of the room and toward the front of the gym with not a care in the world.

“Nice meeting you, Peach.” She tosses a peace sign over her shoulder before she’s out of your view.

You watch them go, stunned that this little conversation had even taken place. You really, really hope they weren’t off to tell the rest of the team about the stupid little human woman that was on her way to meet with Quaritch in private and wouldn’t even tell them why. That would be the last thing you need. Clearly, they already think something else is going on, and you don’t want to give them any more fuel than they already have to make fun. Are they as bored as you are and the only thing they can do to entertain themselves is sitting around gossiping like a bunch of old ladies?!

God, you can’t imagine what Quaritch must have said or done that got them all even thinking about this!

You’re jolted out of your concerned thoughts when Williams gently places a hand on your back.

“You ready to go, Peach?” he asks lightly.

You turn around and glare up at him, clearly still a little miffed about what just happened and the way he had laughed at your expense.

He has the shame to wince a little bit. “Yeah, sorry about that. The team can get a little…rowdy, when they’re bored.”

You stare at him harshly for a moment longer before sighing and nodding your head in acquiescence. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t something all that serious anyways.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Forgiven, Williams grins in relief before pushing you forward, his palm still in contact with your back.

“Quaritch should be right over in the weights section of the gym! He likes to spend a lot of time over there. I think it’s just something for him to do when he’s not ranting about Jake Sully and the Na’vi.”

He leads you deeper into the gym and up a flight of stairs before turning left.

“You know, I think he likes working out more than he likes the team, and-”

But the rest of Williams's sentence is drowned out, muted in your ears, because in front-in front of you is-

Oh…my god. Oh my god. Jesus. Fucking Christ.

Your thoughts, your concerns, your nervousness, it all drifts away and into the wind with nary an attempt to pull them back. Your mind goes blissfully blank, all too eager to focus on the sight in front of you.

Quaritch grunts and lifts his arms, raising a bar attached to a ridiculous number of weights. His sharp teethed are clenched, and for the first time, you actually see sweat heavily beaded on his face and chest.

And the real kicker, the thing that knocks your breath straight from your chest, is the fact that he’s shirtless.

You gape at the wide expanse of muscled, deep blue skin that’s proudly on display in front of you. Sweat glistens on his taught stomach, and his biceps bulge as he lifts the bar a few more times before setting it on the ledge. He pants for breath, pink tongue peeking out and tracing the line of his bottom lip.

He looks debauched.

Warmth blossoms deep in your stomach.

Williams’s constant stream of babble slowly filters back into your ears, and you blink. You hadn’t even noticed that your eyes had begun to burn from the time you had been staring at Quaritch, completely uninterrupted, not even blinking once.

You swallow thickly and struggle to break free of your trance. Even then, you don’t tear your eyes away from Quaritch. Luckily, Williams is too focused on his own talking to care much about where you are looking.

Everything that has led to this moment has been so, so worth it.

Quaritch sits up, still breathing deeply, grabs a gray towel from the ground laying next to him, and uses it to wipe the sweat from his face. After he’s satisfied with that, he runs the towel over his chest and down toward his navel. The towel brushes the edge of his shorts, going under by just a centimeter.

You nearly swallow your tongue.

“…and even then, I definitely didn’t think he was going to be able to fit the whole thing in the helicarrier-oh hey, boss!”

Williams jolts out of his speech, lifting an exciting hand to wave at Quaritch even though he’s just on the other side of the room.

Quaritch finishes wiping the sweat from his body, face set in its usual neutral expression as he turns to look towards William’s loud voice. His yellow eyes flick several feet down from Williams's beaming face to your own. You don’t even know what your face looks like at this point; nervous, blank, or ridiculously dazed. You’re praying for blank.

Quaritch’s eyebrow raises when he sees you, surprise stretching over his face before it settles into the regular slow, sly grin he seems to favor. He lowers the towel and turns fully to face you.

Williams pushes you forward as he marches closer to Quaritch. His hand is still pressed against your back, as though you’re about to take this chance to run away.

Quaritch notices Williams’s proximity to you. His eyes seem to darken and he glares at him, teeth clenching once more. He stands from the workout equipment he had been using, and he even seems to tower over Williams’s lean form, let alone your own.

Williams notices Quaritch’s glare and jerks his arm away from you guiltily. Quaritch’s tense expression relaxes just a little bit.

“Hey boss, looks like something sweet is here for you!”

“I can see that, kid. A peach, just for me?” Quaritch grins slyly.

You think you’ve set a new record for the number of times a person can blush in a day. Your already flushed face burns brighter at his words. The amount of heat radiating off of them is insane, and the overwhelming scent of Quaritch’s sweat is… strange. It’s not as sharp and pungent as human sweat, no, it’s almost sort of…sweet, like the rain you had smelled earlier.

Yeah, something sweet with an underlying hint of tartness, like citrus or lemon.

Whatever it is, it’s fucking good. You wonder if all members of the Recom Unit, all the ones stuck in their Avatar bodies, smell as good as he does. You hadn’t smelled anything from Z-Dog and Lopez, but they hadn’t been sweating as much as Quaritch.

You remember when you first met up with him while in your Avatar body, the way his rainwater and coffee smell nearly had you losing your mind. If that’s what it’s going to be like if you meet others of the Recom Unit while in your Avatar, you’re going to have to avoid them forever so you don’t embarrass yourself.

Why the fuck does Quaritch always smell so good?! What kind of body wash is he using, and where can I get some?

Your lips press together before you smile hesitantly and reply,

“Ha. Yep, it’s me. I just, uh, I just came to give you a-”

You choke and cut yourself off before you can finish your sentence.

I can’t fucking say I’m here to give Colonel Quaritch what’s practically a fucking friendship pendant! He’d kill me!

You cough lightly and resume your sentence, hoping nobody noticed your pause. “I have something for you?” It comes out more of a squeaky question than a statement.

But Quaritch doesn’t make fun of your voice like you thought he would, for once not rising to the easy bait. Instead, he simply raises another eyebrow and repeats, slowly, like you’re an idiot, “Something?”

Williams wiggles his eyebrows again as he looks down at you, mouth opening quickly to say something you know you won’t like. Quaritch notices and glowers at him before snapping, “That’ll be all, soldier.”

Williams closes his mouth with a click and holds his hands up in mock defeat as he backs away from you and Quaritch. His sharp smile stretches across his face boyishly and he makes finger guns at you while saying, “Bye, Peach!”

You and Quaritch watch Williams’s lean form leave the weights area via the sliding glass door. Neither of you speaks until the door slides all the way shut again, leaving only silence.

He sighs deeply, as though he has all the weight of the world on him just because you came to see him. It makes you scowl.

“Alrigh’, Peach. What’s so important you couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” He crosses his arms over his chest. You struggle to keep your eyes on his face and not on his bare skin. He’s so tall that it makes that simple task so hard, because all you want to do is just look down slightly, and he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell you were ogling him.

You open your mouth and suddenly find your brain devoid of words.

Quaritch groans and tosses his head back in exasperation before he grabs a hold of your right upper arm. He leads you over to the steep staircase you had struggled up when Williams lead you to Quaritch, and gestures for you to stay at the top. You follow his command, albeit confused, and he takes a few steps down the platform. His height shrinks just a little bit

He stands just a little bit away from you, but now you don’t have to crane your neck to look up at him and he doesn’t have to look down at you so far. You’re still much shorter than him, but still, it’s much better.

You’re surprised he even bothered; the past times you had spoken to him while in your human form, he had used your height difference to intimidate you, scare you into helping him. This was a surprisingly kind gesture. You're also astounded he hadn't just made you stand on a stool like a toddler.

You grin at him, entirely too warm-faced.

He notices and scoffs. “I just didn’t want to have to bend down and break my damn back to talk to you, is all.” There’s another brief pause before he snaps,

“Well? I don’t have all damn day.”

Before you lose the meager amount of courage you had mustered in your heart, you gingerly take the green pendant from your pocket and lifted it between your bodies. It’s grasped tightly in your hand, your fingers clenched around it before you loosen your grip.

Your stomach tightens before you can speak, butterflies erupting deep in your gut. You can already feel your face blushing. Your eyes flutter down to the ground before you can stop yourself, just so you don’t have to see whatever unpleasant expression will come over Quaritch’s face.

You reach over and grab Quaritch’s hand as best you can, lifting his arm. Surprisingly, he lets you. You carefully press the pendant into his blue palm, fingers tingling when they brush against his. Your hands linger together for just a moment too long for it to be casual before you quickly move away with an awkward cough. You swallow thickly, opening your mouth hesitantly before you quietly say,

“I made this for you. It’s just a pendant. The Na’vi believe that the word on it brings protection and wisdom. I know it’s not really authentic, given that it was made by a human and out of materials found around Bridgehead, but I just figured you might want something physical to go along with our lessons. Just so it isn’t only my words and the pictures I show you, I don’t know.” You babble on and on, too afraid to stop talking.

You lift your eyes hesitantly to look at him, gaze flickering across his face quickly to take in his thoughts. His face is blank, but there is a look in his eyes. Confusion, perhaps, or maybe disbelief? There’s a slight furrowing of his eyebrows, but he doesn’t immediately scoff or make fun of you like you thought he would.

“…For me?”

He slowly lifts his arm, as if expecting you to leap backward and laugh in his face. He brings the pendant closer to his face to examine it.

“I dunno, I just thought you might like to have something kind of from them, just to, uh, really put yourself in their mindset, I guess. You don’t actually have to wear it or anything, I just figured you might want to look at it? But yeah, I made it for you.”

Your voice trails off near the end of your sentence, becoming quieter and quieter until you’re almost whispering. Your shoulders lower in on yourself and you grasp your left wrist in your hand in front of your body, quietly putting your head down and looking at the floor.

A few seconds pass in tense silence. When Quaritch makes no sound and doesn’t move a muscle, you discreetly raise your head slightly and take a peek at his face. Your fists clench tightly and your stomach drops when you see his expression remains stoic, eyebrows lowered and eyes filled with an emotion you simply cannot name.

Stupid, stupid! This was a bad idea! He hates the Na’vi, why would you even make something that you knew he wouldn’t even-

Quaritch clears his throat and your head shoots up fully to meet his eyes with your own wide, too-hopeful ones. You imagine you look like a sad, stupid little girl, but you just can’t help yourself. Every time you talk with him, you always seem to forget yourself, say and do and feel more than you should.

He stares down at you, eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“Thank you.”

The words are spoken so softly you barely hear them, but they’re enough to make the tension release its hold on and sweet relief and warmth bloom in your chest.

He accepted it, he didn’t even throw it back in your face!

You relax, shoulders relaxing. A deep, unbidden sigh leaves your mouth before you can help yourself. You beam up at him, happy eyes suddenly scrunching up slightly from the force of your smile, face surely alight with joy. You suddenly feel ridiculously delighted.

Oh. I’m so glad I did this.

Quaritch looks surprised at your obvious reaction, and his bright yellow eyes soften. Unknown emotion flickers across his face before it’s gone in a flash and even more surprise takes over. His ears flick twice on the sides of his head.

He returns your smile almost hesitantly. His eyes are still stunning and they almost glow, even in the bright lights of the gym center.

He looks the most unsure and taken aback you’ve ever seen him, but his smile. Oh, the smile is so different from his usual sly smirks or smug grins.

This smile is genuine and small and sweet.

He looks so pretty.

Your chest clenches and you swallow hard. Your heart begins to pound, breath coming quickly. A tight, overwhelming urge to move, to do something vividly overcomes you. Your hands twitch at your sides, your feet shuffle an inch closer. You can’t help the way your eyes drift down to his soft-looking lips just once before quickly snapping back to Quaritch’s gaze.

Even on the steps he’s so much taller than I am right now. Maybe-Maybe I could get him to lower himself down so I could kiss him-

Your eyes pop wide and you almost gasp, viscously jerked straight out of your vivid thoughts as you realize what you’d been thinking. That wonderful, fuzzy feeling of warmth that clouded your thoughts abruptly pops, and you’re left in the unrelenting grip of cold, unfeeling reality.

Holy shit!

You jerk back a step with a quick breath and break the fierce eye contact you had been holding with Quaritch for an unknown time. It could have been seconds or minutes, you don’t even know anymore.

It seems you weren’t the only one lost in the moment. The second you step back the spell is broken, and Quaritch jerks back in the same manner you had. You hadn’t even realized he had been leaning closer as well, muscles just as tense as yours, chest frozen still as though he wasn’t breathing.

Even now, even though he had moved back, he refuses to look away from you. You clear your throat loudly and smooth an unsteady hand over your pristine, unwrinkled shirt, and you can feel his intense yellow eyes burning into the side of your face.

The both of you remain still, neither one wanting to make the first move of shifting backward or forwards.

Eventually, Quaritch takes a step closer into your bodily space. The smell of him becomes even stronger, and you can’t help the way you breathe it in deeply one last time, mind unwillingly going fuzzy, before holding your breath. You’re frozen, unable to move as he hovers over you.

You find the courage to finally look up from the ground to return his intense gaze. The sight that meets you stuns you, makes your heart thunder in your chest.

The warmth from earlier returns with a vengeance, swirling down deep in your stomach. A pulse begins to pound between your legs, and you shift as unnoticeable as you can.

Quaritch’s eyes are dark and burning, and you’re locked in, helpless now. You can’t move even as he lowers his head down to yours, and for one thrilling moment, you think he’s going to press his lips against yours. Your mouth tingles just from the thought. You want to close your eyes, but your brain refuses.

Instead of kissing you, a large hand gently presses a soft thumb against the tender, sensitive skin of your pink bottom lip.

You gasp, gaze lowering and cheeks burning. Your breath comes quick, fluttering against his hand as your chest rises and falls. If someone saw you now, they would think you looked just as debauched as you thought Quaritch looked earlier, cheeks rosy and eyes glossed over.

He consumes every angle of your view. He overwhelms your senses so much that the only thing you can feel is him, think is him.

His thumb presses closer, so close to touching your tongue, and you just can’t take it anymore.

Your pink little tongue brushes against his skin, taking a taste before darting away just as fast as it dared, but it's too late.

Quaritch hisses between his sharp clenched teeth, long and strained, and your eyes dart back up to his face. Your heart jolts when you realize he’s enjoying this as much as you are, as tempted as you are. His pupils are massive, leaving only a ring of gold. Tension and, god, desire battle on his face.

“You know, Peach, I’m not sure how much of this I can handle before I take what I want.” The words are tense, whispered through clamped teeth, and you want, oh how badly you want to give in, to smash your lips to his. But there’s something that warns you in the back of your head, something that hisses that once he’s had you he’ll abandon you. You’re just a new, shiny little toy that he’ll fuck and be done with. You won’t matter to him if you sleep with him.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Against everything, all your instincts, all the voices, all your gut says, you like Quaritch. You like spending time with him, like the way his eyes crinkle whenever he laughs, like the way he teases you. You like his curled smile, like how hard he always seems to make you laugh, the way your skin tingles whenever you touch, the way he gets adorably frustrated when he fumbles a Na’vi word, the way he never lets you give up, even when you’re exhausted. You could go on and on and on.

You want to matter to him. He's important to you now.

The reality hits you hard. You have feelings for Quaritch.

So far on Pandora, Quaritch has been the main person that has kept you sane. Margot is a blessing, but what you feel for Quaritch is so different. Yes, he can be a massive dick sometimes, and yes, he has a very strange, almost obsessive hatred toward certain people. There are a lot of bad things you can say about him, but it’s the small, almost unnoticeable, kind things he does for you. Just being in his presence makes you stupidly pleased.

Maybe it’s just you turning crazy from being on an alien planet, bored, and suddenly having a whirlwind of chaos crashing into your life. Maybe it’s from spending hours together every day for months, pressed up against one another and fighting and learning and teaching. Seeing rare little parts of one another that no one else seems to see. You’ve shown him vulnerability, and he’s shown it to you as well, in his own way. You highly doubt he’s walking around brushing eyelashes from other people’s cheeks or thanking them so softly when they give him things.

You really, really like him.

And you don’t want to ruin that.

So, you shift back.

It’s just an inch, barely more than a centimeter, but it makes all the difference. Suddenly, you can breathe again.

Air rushes into your lungs, and the world around you seems to shift and open up. It’s not just you and Quaritch standing on a staircase, lost in one another. The sound of the overhead fan filters into your ears, and cool air brushes against your cheeks. Your fuzzy head clears, and the tenseness in your body fades as you relax, resolute in your decision.

You want, oh how you want, but it’s just too soon. If you slept together and things ended badly, whatever you had with Quaritch would be ruined, and you’d spend the rest of your life avoiding him.

You want Quaritch to be in your life, god help you.

So you’ll wait, until you’re sure he actually, fully cares about you. Until you’re sure he isn’t just playing with you, isn’t just wanting to fuck you because you’re something new.

And if that never happens, then fuck it, you’re fine being friends with him until he gets bored.

You open your eyes you hadn’t even realized you shut and look up. Quaritch is already looking at you. His eyes are still mostly black, and he surprises you when he speaks.

“You’re testing my patience, Peach.” The words are supposed to convey annoyance, but his tone is as gentle and understanding as you’ve ever heard it. You’d had no idea he could sound like that.

Fondness strikes you hard.

You stretch your arm over the steps and reach up as high as you can, standing on your tiptoes. Your fingers barely brush against the soft skin of his right cheek. Just for a second, Quaritch leans down until your hand can better encompass his face. He tilts his head and leans into you, yellow eyes looking like warm, melted butter. His desire still burns there, but it’s faded into something almost tender, and it makes your heart swell.

You realize that maybe Quaritch doesn’t want to lose your tentative, fragile little relationship either.

He’s always surprising me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Quaritch.” You whisper softly. You stroke his face one last time before dropping your arm.

“…See you tomorrow, Peach.” He says, just as quietly as you before he leans back.

You look into his eyes one last time, and then step to the side and walk past him. You hear him turn to watch you go.

“Hey, Peach?”

You turn around as you make it so the bottom of the stairs, hands in your jean pockets. Quaritch stands higher up than ever before, and a wide expanse of stairs separates you.

“…Thanks again.” He lifts his arm, and you can see the flash of green of your pendant clutched gently in his large blue hand.

You smile. “Of course, Quaritch.”

Tagging: I tried to get everyone!!

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boneblushed · 10 months

Text

Untouchable

masterlist | part 3 | part 4

synopsis It is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy learn to work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.

wc 3.2k

“Alright, so the last thing we need to — guys,” you falter, scrubbing a tired hand down your face. Though you’re well aware that Friday afternoons are the worst possible time to hold a prefect meeting, they’re a once monthly affair that are otherwise unavoidable.

“Oi!” yells Rafe beside you, his voice commanding where yours is frustrated, rough around the edges.

He crosses his arms in the pause that follows, the broad expanse of his bicep nudging body heat into your shoulder. And it doesn’t help that he smells of familiar things — chlorine and sweat, notes of patchouli with vetiver musk. “Y/L/N’s speaking. Show some respect, yeah?”

The room quietens almost immediately, because of course it does.

You try to be grateful for his presence, you really do. But when the upperclassmen near the back—who haven’t so much as made eye-contact with you over the past half hour—straighten at the sound of his voice, it replaces any appreciation you had for him with ever-growing indignation.

Sure, Rafe Cameron may be bigger than you, more intimidating, with stronger forearms and broader shoulders and a shadow of rough stubble that — wait, what were you talking about, again? You blink. He needs to stop stepping in like he is and veering you off course.

Right. Rafe Cameron as the intimidating one.

How you recognise that his exterior may be more daunting than yours is, and presume that what you lack in height and width you make up for in tenacity. Doggedness. Why can’t they listen when it’s you making the announcements?

This isn’t the first time you’ve needed him to step in, either — at prefect meeting number three, now, it’s clear that the pair of you have opposing strengths and weaknesses. And in theory, this is probably a good thing; you as the organised one, him as your glorified bodyguard.

Except that, stubborn as you are, you don’t think that you need one of those. Especially not one with as big an ego as Mr. Kook Prince of Kildare Academy, Ward Cameron’s eldest son.

He glances down at you encouragingly, his features faltering at the expression on your face. Somehow, you’re able to make unimpressed look almost pretty. “First home game tomorrow,” he explains under his breath. “Probably why they’re all so distracted.”

You meet his eyes briefly, balk a little. He’s standing closer than you’d expected him to, the blue in his irises speckled by sunlight yellow. “Whatever.” You cough, turning back toward the classroom. “Alright. Do I have everyone’s attention?”

Beside you, Rafe shifts inscrutably, sending the room a remonstrating glare. If you weren’t so intent on proving your independence, you might’ve even found his dedication a little endearing.

But you don’t, the thought whizzing through your brain like the fleeting tail of a firework. “So,” you continue, “the last thing on our agenda is divvying up prefect duties for next month.” You duck down and pull it open on your laptop, the projector screen behind you flashing on in tandem. “To save everyone the trouble, I’ve gone ahead and drafted a rough schedule based on last month’s one.”

“Football season’s started though!” calls Kelce from the back, bolstered by grunts of approval from his teammates.

Rafe’s about to reprimand him on your behalf when you turn toward him, eyes widening pointedly. Don’t, you seem to say, to which Rafe’s brow furrows in a why not? sort of way.

You glare: I got this.

Rafe raises his eyebrows: I never implied that you didn’t.

You shake your head ever so slightly, stern, looking back to Kelce without another word. Rafe’s gaze lingers. “I was getting to that,” you say, frowning reproachfully. “The spreadsheet will be edit-able over the weekend, so feel free to get into it and make any changes you need to. Obviously, no duties should be left unfulfilled, so if you aren’t able to make one, you’re going to have to find a way to swap with someone who can.”

“Just the weekend?” Connor pipes up, followed by a murmur of collective assent. “But training’s tonight, game tomorrow —”

“How long is a football game, Walters?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Kegger right after,” he adds pointedly, raising his in tandem.

You roll your eyes. “You know there are two days that make up a weekend, right?”

“We’re meant to sort this shit out when we’re hungover on Sunday now, Y/L/N?” Kelce asks, a glint of mischief in his otherwise dark irises. He’s pushing it, he knows he is, but he wants more of Rafe defending your honour to rub in Dalton’s face.

“Yes,” you deadpan.

“If you can handle an eighteen-hole at the fucking Club on a Sunday morning, Smith,” Rafe adds, much to your chagrin. “Then you can handle a prefect duty schedule.”

“Damn,” Kelce grins triumphantly, sitting back in his chair. “Aye aye, Captain.”

Rafe furrows his brow again, looking over the rest of the classroom, a warning. “Anyone else with something to say?”

There’s a low murmur of dissent, and several people shake their head in response. An angry warmth creeps up your neck, diffidence mixed with indignation.

“Alright then.” You can feel Rafe looking down at you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “That was all from me… anyone with any last minute notices?”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Rafe says then, angling back toward the crowd. His shoulder nudges yours again, too-broad and too-close, another waft of chlorine and musk. “My dad’s outta town this weekend, so party at mine after home game.”

As the room erupts into excited chatter, he ducks his head to eye-level, his rough timbre raising goosebumps on the shell of your ear. “You’ll come?”

The prefects are beginning to pack up their things, signalling the end of the meeting, so you allow yourself to turn your head and look up at him, your glare growing weak at the closeness of his face. “Why would I come?” You ask, breaking away abruptly and gathering your own belongings.

Rafe does the same, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I’ve never been to one of your parties before?” You return, like it’s obvious. As you turn away and begin to walk toward the exit, you assume that Rafe will rejoin the boys in his football team. They straggle near the doorway, no doubt waiting to head for the locker-room, but he refuses to accede so quickly, following you out instead.

You glance up as he falls into step, his rough hand mussing his overgrown locks. “Can I help you?” You ask, bemused.

“That was before,” he says, answering your previous question. “We’re partners now.”

“Cameron!” calls Kelce, “Bro, you coming?”

“I’ll meet you guys out there,” Rafe replies easily, not bothering to turn his head to address him. “C’mon, Y/L/N. It’ll be fun.”

Maybe it’s the tone he uses, quietly superior with pity lacing the edges. Like you never get invited to parties. (You don’t, but that’s besides the point.) Like you aren’t capable of fun and he’s doing you some kind of favour.

You halt abruptly, pivoting to face him head on. He’s taken aback at first, but the surprise in his blue eyes melts away very quickly. Gives way to something deeper, thick as brown molasses.

You force yourself to ignore it. “You need to stop doing that,” you order.

“Doing what?” Rafe asks, frowning bemusedly.

“Stepping in and telling them off,” you sigh, grimacing abashedly. “I had it handled.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Half of them were falling asleep, Y/L/N. I just thought I’d wake them up a little.”

“What?” You accuse, folding your arms across your chest stubbornly. “Because I can’t?”

“Oh, you definitely can.” He raises his arms in surrender, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he looks over your pretty features. Something sultry about it. “This right here? This is you handling yourself just fine.”

You make a face, as if your heart isn’t stuttering at the timbre of his voice. “Then why?”

“Because we’re a team,” Rafe repeats, dropping his arms again. “I mean, shit Y/L/N, I wasn’t trying to undermine you. Not everything I do has some kind of ulterior motive.”

“Debatable,” you mutter.

“Including,” he adds pointedly, raising his eyebrows. “Inviting you to my party.”

“That I’m not going to,” you clarify.

Rafe shrugs. “Just being polite.” Just want to see you in something other than school uniform.

“Cute,” you say, turning away again. “Not happening.”

“Busy?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t you come?” Rafe asks, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Your turn to shrug. “I just don’t want to.”

—

Rafe tries not to let your non-attendance get to him, he really does.

Tannyhill is a site to behold against the glow of purple dusk — alive with technicolor lights, the heavy bass reverberating through chilly Autumn. Upperclassmen flood every inch of the ground level of the mansion, empty bottles strewn over smooth marble countertops, outdoor beer pong games gaining momentum.

He just wants to be helpful. He feels guilty enough as is that you’re the one that’s organised almost every speech and conference so far — it’s the reason he’s piped up at every prefect meeting you’ve had, desperate to fill a role, prove he isn’t deadweight in this partnership.

But clearly that’s the last thing you want.

So he decides to change tact. If not to gain your approval, to have an excuse to text you in the middle of a fucking party that he’s hosting.

As if that isn’t the most pathetic thing ever.

“Oi!” He calls out, his voice still low and gruff, sweetened by the slur of liquor in his system. “Prefects only in the living room. Can the rest of you fuck off for a second?”

The space empties diligently, pulling in any prefects that were straggling on the deck. As his gazes moves over the group, he realises that every single one came to his party except you. His chest lurches abruptly.

“Alright,” he clears his throat, trying to ignore this feeling. Failing miserably. “Everyone get out their phones and open up the schedule spreadsheet.”

Kelce shares a knowing look with Dalton, triumph edging on amusement. “The prefect duty one?” He asks, feigning bemusement. “Why would we do that?”

“Because we’re all here,” Rafe replies, sliding his own phone out of his front-pocket. “So organising swaps will be real easy.”

Kelce raises his eyebrows, accedes. “Right.” He fake coughs, and it sounds like, “Simp.”

Connor, half a bottle of Fireball down, makes a noise like a whip-cracking from the back of the room.

“I’m serious,” Rafe says then, evidently unperturbed. “Get your phones out. I’m not going to ask again.”

“Dude,” Dalton replies, actually bemused now. “Relax. It’s a party.”

“Exactly,” Rafe responds, his gaze glued to the phone in his palm. “So the faster we do this, the faster you can get back to hitting on freshmen.”

The jibe pulls some stifled laughter from the crowd, and Dalton scowls abashedly, his stubbled face flushing.

It’s enough to force him to oblige, the rest of the prefects way ahead of him. As they converse amongst themselves, editing the spreadsheet as necessary, Rafe manages to capture a photo of them to send to you.

Cameron: [attached a photo] swapsies > pong

Maybe he doesn’t expect you to reply so quickly.

Y/L/N: are you trying to prove a point or something?

He frowns down at the message thread bemusedly; this isn’t the reaction he’d expected from you. He’d thought you’d be grateful to see them sorting out the schedule — to see him organising it, him being responsible for once.

He imagines pretty you in your pyjamas, rolling over on your bed to sigh at the photo. He realises that he’s already conceptualised a concerning amount of your room decor — simple, tidy, organised. Like you. In this imagined scenario, you’re wearing sweatpants and a singlet with a wafer of bare waist in between them.

His thoughts snag at the latter, the promise of glowing skin becoming quickly overbearing. He realises he thinks about touching you a lot, far more than he should.

Cameron: prove a point?

Y/L/N: that they listen to you more than they listen to me

Cameron: you know not everything’s a competition, yeah?

Y/L/N: maybe not to you

Cameron: I think the word you’re looking for is thank you, Y/L/N

Y/L/N: bite me

Rafe shouldn’t grin at the message, but he does anyway. He knows it’s the closest he’s going to get to gratitude; he can imagine you sighing again, rolling your eyes at the message before responding to it. The hem of your singlet riding up as you shift in your bed. More soft skin for him to touch.

He swallows thickly. He’s totally fucking fucked.

Cameron: gladly

—

“Well,” Cromwell beams, his crows feet deepening reverently, “it sounds like you two are really embracing your roles as head students.”

His rises from his chair by way of dismissal, looking between you genially. “Same time next month?”

“Looking forward to it, Crom-dog,” Rafe replies, grinning handsomely.

The nickname never fails to make you grimace—he’s the headmaster, for God’s sake—but you’re quick to fix your features, nodding and smiling in tandem. “We’ll get that plan for winter formal written up.”

“Always two steps ahead of me,” Cromwell resounds, making a noise of approval. “I like it.”

You smile wider, warmed by his praise, before turning and exiting the office. Rafe is close behind you, his chlorine and patchouli scent ever-present, and he’s quick to fall into your step as you enter the hallway.

“Winter formal plan?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. “Already?”

“Two steps ahead, Cameron,” you say, tapping your nose conspiratorially.

The gesture swells something fond in his chest, a wave before it crashes ashore. He taps his own nose, a question. “What does this mean?”

You fix him with a significant look, brushing the side of your nose again.

Rafe grins, resisting the urge to reach forward and do the same. The want to touch you is honest-to-God unbearable. “Fine. Don’t tell me. When’s our next meeting?”

“Friday?” You ask, turning away again.

You’re nearing the double doors that bring you out into the Academy’s entranceway, brilliant steeples shading the flagstone pavement. Beyond it is the carpark where Rafe’s pick-up sits.

“Friday,” Rafe confirms, and then he pauses, running his fingers through his hair. In the mood to play with fire, he adds, “You walking home?”

“Yeah?” You glance back at him, balk a little. There’s an alarming amount of sincerity swimming within his blue irises.

In the beat that passes, you think, he’s sweet when he wants to be. The other day, he’d offered to cover your lunchtime duty when you’d told him you had an assignment due. And he’d sent you that meme last week, the one about Taylor Swift that’d made you laugh unprompted. Sweet.

He gestures toward his pick-up in the distance. “Need a ride?”

Before this year, you would’ve declined almost immediately. There’s nothing you hate more than being indebted to someone, especially when that someone has an ego as big as Rafe’s.

Maybe you’re just being polite. Maybe you believe that it’s futile to fight it. Or maybe, and this revelation terrifies you the most, you’re starting to realise that he’s got a heart big enough to match it.

You shrug, changing trajectory and making for the carpark. “Yeah, sure.”

Rafe tries not to look taken aback. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before his expression relaxes again, a roguish grin pulling up at his features. As he catches you up, he says, “Damn, Y/L/N. You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

You roll your eyes in response, fighting the smile that’s threatening to break through. “Not if I can help it, Cameron.”

You walk in tandem toward his pick-up truck, your shoulders brushing intermittently. Sudden jolts of static that you pretend—he pretends—aren’t leaving imprints of heat on your skin.

“Good.” Rafe nods approvingly, sliding his keys out of his back-pocket. “Need someone ‘round here keeping me in check.”

“Thought that’s what your dad was for, Cameron,” you muse, your tone playful.

Rafe hesitates, stumbling a step before regaining momentum. It makes you frown, this sudden break in his composure, how quickly he goes from faltering to pretending that he hasn’t.

“He’s outta town this weekend,” he coughs, avoiding your gaze. He tries for nonchalant, mussing his overgrown locks and adding, “You’re just gonna have to work overtime to make up for it, Y/L/N.”

Again? You want to ask. Is he ever actually around?

But that’s overstepping. “Maybe if he pays me for it,” you say, glancing over at him again.

There’s a pause as your eyes meet, something strong, almost aching, pulsing in the air between you. A crisp Autumn chill with a side of something sweeter.

You look away first.

“You can do better than Ward Cameron as your boss,” Rafe says, and you’re sure he’s insinuating something; you just don’t know what.

“Right,” you reply awkwardly, halting at his pick-up truck.

Another pause. “Shit, anyway,” Rafe says then, breaking the silence by patting the hood of his car. He clears his throat and plasters on a grin, the same blend of charming and handsome, clearly done talking about his father. “Shall we?”

You eye the vehicle faux-dubiously, sending him a pointed glance. “You’re not one of those, trigger-happy, love-to-rev-their-engine wannabe racer boys, are you?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, his expression akin to mild amusement. “Careful Y/L/N,” he says. “That’s enough adjectives to tell me you’ve thought about this before.”

“Not an answer, Cameron,” you return, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he raises his arms in surrender, “I’m not any of those things when there’s a pretty girl in my car.”

You make a face, compensating for the way your cheeks warm at his words. “You better not be.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nods sincerely, opening the door for you before jogging to the driver’s side. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

You buckle in, raising your eyebrows at him. “Good.”

He returns this with a faux-glare, turning on the ignition. “No talking, Y/L/N. Best behaviour means concentrating on the road, and the road only.”

As his gaze moves down toward the gearshift, it snags at your bare thighs on the seat, your uniform skirt hiked up ever so slightly. So much for best behaviour. You in his pick-up truck is like an agonising game of look don’t touch.

The ride home is silent, as promised, broken only by the intermittent whistle of Autumn wind.

Once he’s pulled into your driveway and switched off the ignition, he makes a show of letting out an audible sigh of relief, wiping non-existent sweat off his brow.

“Funny,” you try to deadpan, though the mirth on your features shines through easily.

Rafe angles toward you seriously, and you’re struck by how much larger he looks inside his pick-up truck. He folds one of his arms around your head-rest, fixing you with a significant look. “Can I get you to fill out a quick survey before you leave?” He asks, pulling out his phone and turning the screen toward you. It reads: Were you happy with your service today? If yes, please tip, with buttons for 5%, 10%, and 15% below it.

A peal of laughter bubbles out of you, somewhere between exasperated and amused. “Funny,” you repeat, shoving him back playfully.

He cracks a grin, the spot in his chest that you pressed against glowing a metaphorical amber. “Have a good weekend, yeah?”

You smile in tandem, unbuckling and opening the door. “And you.”

“Oh, I will,” he replies, a rare moment of candour from easy-going, ego-as-big-as-his-heart Rafe Cameron. “Weekends without my dad around are always better than the ones that he’s here for.”

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

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