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#Comic cover masterlist
chuluoyi · 6 months
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✎ treasure
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- gojo satoru x reader
the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them
genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort
note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"No!"
"Why? This helps—"
"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"
Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.
Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.
However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.
"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"
"You are!"
Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!
When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.
But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.
That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.
"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"
Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.
His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"
Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.
"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"
"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.
Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.
It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.
Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—
His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”
Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.
"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."
"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"
You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.
Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.
You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."
Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.
"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."
Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.
Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.
You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.
"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:
"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 7 months
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Cat and Mouse
(Perv!Eddie Munson x Perv!Fem Reader)
Summary: Eddie thinks you are innocent and oblivious to all the pervy things he does behind your back, but what he doesn’t know is that you’re fully aware. Not only that, but you like it, and you just might be a bit of a perv yourself. WK: 8k (idk what happened)
Warnings: Where do I even begin? This is filthy guys… Panty stealing, honestly just Eddie and Reader both taking things of each others without asking (and using them to pleasure themselves), Maybe a tiny bit of angst? Idk there’s like a second where they’re both doubting themselves but it’s solved quickly. SMUTTTT!!! Unprotected P in V, Oral (M and F receiving), overstimulation(on R), hair pulling, slightly sub!Eddie? Idk he’s just really down bad(but so is R), dirty talk but like dirty dirty. Idk what to tell y’all they’re pervs, they’re gross, this is feral. If I missed anything pls lmk!! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: Listen… idk what came over me with this one… a horny demon possessed me and wrote this.. It was fueled by my feral period brain and all the perv Eddie fics I’ve seen where Reader is innocent, which is still very hot and I love it but I’m a whore so I wanted to write something where maybe she wasn’t as innocent as Eddie thought. That’s it, that’s all I have to say, pls enjoy the filth. 😌 (also shout out to @take-everything-you-can for mentioning something about taking Eddie’s shirt, I kind of took that idea and ran a mile with it.) My Masterlist
You met Eddie a few months ago, you were working at your uncle’s comic book shop when he came in looking for some dice. He came in a few more times after that, always needing something for his campaign, or looking for a comic for one of his younger friends he told you about. He would always stay and talk to you for a while, telling you things about his life, asking about yours. Eventually he asked you if you wanted to come to one of his shows and the two of you had basically been inseparable since.
You hadn’t known him long but it didn’t take long for you to pick up on a few things. Like how his eyes would always linger on your thighs when you’d cross them on his bed in your little ruffly skirts, or how they looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he noticed you hardly ever wear a bra. You noticed he always talked to you in this way that made you seem so innocent and pure, untouched. You weren’t, but noticed he liked it, so you played into it.
You started to notice things going missing, a pair of underwear that didn’t quite make it in the dirty clothes basket, a tester vile of your perfume you had left over from before you decided it was worth buying the whole bottle, a picture of you from your stack of polaroids that was of you at the beach in your little red bikini.
So you started leaving things. Your dirty underwear on display, always at the very top of your laundry basket. A nearly empty bottle of your favorite lotion sitting next to the trash, ready to be thrown out. A picture of your tits with your forearm just barely covering your nipples at the top of the stack of Polaroids.
Each time they would be gone, and you weren’t sure at this point if he was just playing along or if he was the one that was really that naive.
The first time Eddie saw you he was convinced you were an angel. Standing behind the counter at the comic shop downtown in your little white sweater and pink skirt. When he walked up to look at the dice in the glass underneath the register he could see your white thigh high socks. You had this cute ribbon in your hair and when you spoke your voice sounded like sugarcane. You asked him if there where any sets that stood out to him, and then you surprised the hell out of him by asking if they were for D&D. You had never played, but your cousins and your uncle did, so you knew the basics.
He couldn’t stop himself from coming in after that, finding any excuse to make a trip to see his favorite girl. Maybe he would decide he needed a new mini for an NPC or offer to go get a new release of a comic for Dustin while he was at school. He always spent a while standing there talking to you, getting to know you, ogling you because he just couldn’t help himself. How could he? When you would lean over the counter giving him a perfect view of your tits through your thin shirts and hardly ever wore a bra? When you would ask him to hold the ladder steady so you could get something up high and he would get a perfect view up your skirt of whatever panties you wore that day? You were irresistible.
He learned that you weren’t only beautiful but actually really cool. You knew a lot about comics, you had read Tolkien, you loved horror movies possibly more than he did, and you were down to give any music a chance.
You also had this innocence about you, like you almost didn’t realize how much he wanted you. It just made him want you more. You’d look at him with those big round eyes and pouty lips whenever he would tease you about something. When he would compliment you outright you always made this little squeaky noise and he would notice you squirm or press your thighs together.
But once you started hanging out with him outside of work that’s when he really lost control. The first time he was at your house he saw a pair of your panties next to your laundry basket. Clearly dirty by the way he could see your juices left behind on the crotch of them. You were in the bathroom changing and he just couldn’t resist. He picked them up off the ground and held them up to his nose, inhaling your scent. He felt slightly sick but he had already gone this far so he figured he might as well just have a little taste. He licked the patch where your pussy was, and even though they had mostly dried you still tasted divine. His head spun and his cock hardened as he imagined what you would really taste like. He heard the bathroom door across the hall creak open so he quickly shoved the panties into his back pocket and sat down on your bed, one leg bent at the knee crossed over the other to try and hide the very prominent bulge in his pants.
Then there was the time you had to run down to the mailboxes to check your mail, he already had been subtly staring at the small vial of your perfume after you proudly announced to him that you decided it was your signature scent now, showing him the larger bottle. He figured you wouldn’t need the small one anymore, it was almost gone anyways. So he did what he’s been finding himself doing more and more often when he’s in your room, he pocketed it. That night he sprayed it on his pillow, holding it to his face while he had your panties wrapped around his cock. Bucking into his hand with reckless abandon, imaging what yours might feel like instead.
Then there was the day he was at your apartment before you were supposed to meet up with some of his friends for a movie night and you wanted to shower after work. He was bored, snooping around a little like he usually does when he gets a moment alone in your room, and he came across a stack of Polaroids. His heart warmed when the top one was a photo of you and him at a metal show you went to with him and the guys a few towns away.
You were always surprising him and that night was no exception, banging your head until your little ribbon was about to fall out of your hair. He fixed it for you, of course. He kept looking through the stack of photos, seeing images of you and your friends back home, some of you and your cousins, and tons of you here in Hawkins. Mostly of you and him, some with his friends that were now yours too. But when he got almost to the bottom of the stack he saw a photo of you and your friends at the beach, all smiling wide at the camera. He could only see your neck and shoulders but he could tell you were wearing a little red bikini of some kind. He eagerly flipped to the next photo, hoping there might be one that proved him right, and he was not disappointed.
This picture was just you, laying on the beach with your legs outstretched in front of you, your hands were buried in the sand and just like he thought you were wearing a bright red bikini.
The way you were leaning back on your hands was making your chest stick out and the way one of your legs was slightly bent made it so he could just see the curve of your ass from the side. Your skin glistened with what he assumed was a mixture of sunscreen and sweat and he wanted to lick it off. Your eyes were adorned with heart shaped sunglasses that matched the red of your swimsuit and if he looked close enough he could tell even your toes matched.
He felt his cock harden immediately, licking his lips at the sight. Without even really thinking he shoved the photo in the back pocket of his jeans, hoping you wouldn’t notice it missing.
You tempted him twice that day, it was just too easy when you threw your clothes on top of the basket after your shower and walked into the kitchen to get a snack. Your panties were directly on top, the crotch side up, and he could see a fresh wet patch there. He couldn’t help it, he pocketed them and excused himself to the bathroom, running his tongue along the cloth where your juices had collected. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he felt like he was going to pass out. It only took a few tugs of his cock before he was spilling cum all over his hand and exiting the bathroom with his pockets full of treasures like nothing ever happened.
About two weeks into this cat and mouse game you still weren’t sure you were just playing with yourself, you were alone in Eddie’s room. He ran out to his van to check for the tape he was looking for and you were sitting on his bed and one of his shirts was thrown haphazardly near his pillows like he had taken it off right before going to sleep. The thought came to you and before you could question it you were grabbing it and holding it up to your nose. It smelled good but not like you were expecting. You were expecting the scent of weed mixed with tobacco, apple shampoo and the aftershave you got for him after you told him the smell of the one he was using smelled like a 60 year old man’s wife picked it out for him.
It smelled like those things, but it also smelled like… you, your perfume. But there was something else. When you picked it up it felt slightly dry and maybe a little bit crunchy and upon closer inspection you noticed that it was dried cum. Did he spray your perfume onto his cum shirt? Was he smelling it while he stroked his cock? Thinking of you? The thought made your pussy pulse and your head spin, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Plus, he would definitely notice this missing. So when you heard the trailer door swing open you acted fast. Grabbing one of his discarded shirts that was on the ground near his bed and shoving it into your bag.
That night you did something you would’ve felt ashamed of if you weren’t positive Eddie’s done something similar, maybe even dirtier from the looks and smells of that shirt you found.
You wrapped Eddie’s shirt around your pillow and rode it until you came three times. As you drifted off to sleep still holding onto the pillow you wondered how much longer you could go without actually having the real thing.
Eddie was starting to wonder if you were doing this on purpose, his first indication of that being what he was currently holding in his hands. You were in the kitchen making lunch for the both of you and he was snooping around, as one does. But something caught his eye when he was walking by your shelf, something that wasn’t there before. Right on top of the stack of Polaroids he had found the bikini photo in was a picture of your tits. Your nipples were covered by your forearm, but your tits nonetheless. He was absolutely positive this hadn’t been there before, he definitely would have noticed.
Did you notice that he took the bikini photo and leave this here on purpose so he would see it? Did you take this for someone else? The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. His thoughts were bouncing around in his head like a ping pong ball trying to decide if he was reading into it, if he should take the photo or leave it. If he took it would you be mad? Would you be offended if he didn’t?
Before he could contemplate his decision further he heard your steps coming down the hall so he made a snap judgment and shoved it in his pocket. Practically launching himself onto your bed, he grabbed one of your cute frilly pillows, threw it on his lap and hoped it wouldn’t come off as suspicious.
You were walking down the hall with two bowls of Mac and cheese when you heard a shuffling sound and then the creaking of your mattress like someone just jumped on it. You smirk to yourself, wondering if Eddie saw the gift you left him.
When you open your bedroom door he’s sitting on your bed with a pillow in his lap, he flashes you a smile that is almost believable but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks. You set his bowl down on top of the pillow, and smile back.
“There you go Eds, one gourmet bowl of Kraft, as promised.” You mock curtsied, setting your own bowl down on your nightstand before walking over to your dresser under the guise of grabbing some socks. Making sure to glance as subtlety as possible at your shelf, and just as you thought, the photo was gone.
“Why thank you madam” Eddie held the spoon in his hand with his pinky out as he dramatically took a bite.
You giggled at his antics, as you grabbed the socks out of your top drawer you saw an opportunity to tease him further. You had already seen Eddie eyeing you in your little house shorts and your tank top so you pulled out your white thigh thighs, the soft fuzzy ones that you only really wore at home and made a show of putting them on.
You kept your back to him, bending over extra as you slid them slowly up your legs. You make sure to pull them up as high as they go. Leaving only a small section of skin between the top of the socks and the bottom of your shorts.
Eddie was pretty sure he was going to pass out and he thanked his past self for putting this pillow where it is right now. He watched as you pulled on your socks wondering how something as mundane as putting on fucking socks could be this sexy. When you snapped each one in place it made the meat of your thighs slightly giggle and the way they were sitting just under the curve of your ass was making it look extra juicy. He wanted to bite into it before he made his way between your thighs and spent the rest of his god damn life there.
“Fuck” He swore under his breath and hoped to god you didn’t hear him.
“Hmm? Eddie, you okay?”
You turn around and look at him with that fucking look you always gave him, like you didn’t know how sexy you were, like you didn’t know you drive him fucking crazy.
“Uh - Yeah! I was just saying fuck this is really good, I forgot how much some good ol’ kraft hits the spot.” He smiled and hoped his excuse was convincing enough, taking a large bite for good measure.
“Right? It’ll always be my favorite no matter how many homemade or restaurant kinds I’ve eaten, nothing beats it.”
You crawl onto your bed, making sure he can see down your shirt and plop down next to him on the pillows, leaning over to grab your bowl off your nightstand. Eddie can see your ass even more when your shorts ride up and he suddenly feels like he’s got to get out of here before he says or does something totally humiliating.
“I - uh - I just remembered I have to help Wayne! I told him I’d help him move his stuff into my old room since he has been so tired and hasn’t done it! So I’m - I gotta go!” He stood up swiftly, turning away from you and throwing the pillow down behind him. He didn’t turn around, just kept marching towards your door with his bowl still in hand. Only when he was practically out of your bedroom door did he turn his head to the side and address you.
“Thank you for lunch! I’ll leave the bowl in the sink! I’ll um - I’ll see you later!”
He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, ditching the bowl in the sink, grabbing his shoes not even bothering to put them on as he ran out the door to his van in only his socks.
You sat there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide as you stared at your bedroom door wondering what the fuck just happened. Did you go too far? Were you making him uncomfortable? Maybe he changed his mind about you… Or maybe… maybe he ran home to jerk off… maybe you did go too far but not in a bad way. That’s what you hoped at least.
You bit your lip and clenched your thighs as you entertained that possibility. Was he going to go home and jerk off to your photo? Maybe with your panties held to his nose or wrapped around his cock? At least that’s what you liked to imagine he did with them, you could be wrong.
You were wrong, but not about that. Eddie normally used your panties exactly how you imagined. But not right now, no. He didn’t even make it home, hell, he barely made it out of your apartment building before he was pulling off into some trees and furiously tugging at his cock while he practically dripped drool on your photo. He made sure not to though, he couldn’t taint it like that. It had to remain in perfect condition in case this was his only chance to see your tits.
He grunted and whined, spitting down onto his cock and rubbing it around his tip with his thumb. His pace increased as he imagined it was your hand, or even better, your tits. He imagined sliding his spit slick cock between them while you sucked and licked at the head, he imagined covering your face and tits with his cum.
“FUCK!” He throws his head back against the seat, his eyes cross and he practically bites through his bottom lip as he cums all over his hand, his pants, even some on his shirt.
After he came down from his high, the reality of what he did hit him. He not only probably confused the hell out of you by running off like that without barely saying goodbye, he just jerked off in his fucking van to a photo he took from your bedroom. This was getting out of hand. He had to get himself under control, maybe some distance would help.
You hadn’t seen Eddie all week, ever since he ran out of your room like a bat out of hell and that was unusual. You guys usually saw each other a few times during the week, even if it was one of you bringing the other lunch while you were at work.
You called him a few times, either getting his voicemail or only having a brief conversation before he came up with an excuse to get off the phone. You started to wonder if you were reading things wrong after all. But that just didn’t make sense, why would he take all those things if he didn’t like you? If he didn’t want you in the desperate way you wanted him? You almost felt like you needed him.
So you decided to make a last ditch effort, no beating around the bush this time you were going to be straight forward. You grab Eddie’s shirt, your Polaroid, and your white lacy thigh highs with the little pink bows that he bashfully complimented one day.
You wrap the shirt around your pillow like you have done so many times now you’re almost ashamed. You take off your shirt and shorts before pulling on the thigh highs, leaving you in just your little white lace panties and socks.
The first photo you take is a shot from above of your tits, you can see your thong and the very top of your lace adorned thighs.
The second features your face, your eyes wide in that way you know he loves, your middle and pointer finger shoved down your throat with your lips wrapped around them. If you look close enough you can see a bit of drool dripping down between your boobs.
The third photo is a full nude, your legs spread and pussy on full display for him.
The next one is the one you’re most excited for, the one that sparked this entire plan. It’s an upshot of you from the neck down, you’re straddling the pillow that’s wrapped in Eddie’s shirt in just your socks, your free hand grabbing onto one of your tits.
The last photo is you in the same position but it’s from below, you have your fingers on your pussy, opening yourself up for him against the material of his shirt.
Satisfied with the spread, you gather them up, grab your discarded thong and remove the shirt from your pillow. You fold the panties and the photos into the shirt like they’re a gift to be unwrapped and put them in a little box. Then you write out a note.
Eddie,
if you wanted my panties… all you had to do was ask. You’ve taken all my cutest ones now. But that’s okay because I took something of yours too, I thought you might want it back.
Xoxo - Your angel.
You sign the note with the nickname he had awarded you and fold it in half, putting it on top of the shirt and then you put the lid on the box. Now all you had to do was give it to him, everyone had planned to meet at Gareth’s for a movie night tomorrow and he was supposed to pick you up. You could give it to him in the car before you get there and tell him not to open it until he gets home. It was the perfect plan. Hopefully.
Eddie was nervous on his way to pick you up for movie night, he had managed to avoid you the entire week, much to his dismay. He felt pathetic but he missed you, and even though he was still feeling guilty he was excited to see you.
He pulled into a guest parking spot in front of your building and was surprised to see you already standing there. He usually had to come in while you finished getting ready because you were perpetually running late. But you were standing there in a little white dress and a soft looking pink knit sweater, holding a little box in your arms. He figured it was some kind of baked goods, you pretty much always brought treats to every get together.
You saw him pull in and waved as you walked over, he jumped out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you.
“Hi Eddie, this is for you. But don’t open it now, open it when you get home. Okay? Promise me?”
You sounded nervous, hell, you looked nervous. What was in that box? He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the night not knowing.
“A gift? For me? Angel, you shouldn’t have.” He tried to play it cool, even though he was feeling anything but.
“I didn’t spend any money on it or anything… but I’m not giving it to you unless you promise you won’t open it until you get home later.”
“Yeah, I promise.” He smiled at you reassuringly.
You handed it to him nervously, and he took it with glee, immediately shaking it like a Christmas present.
“EDDIE!! Don’t do that, you’re never going to guess what it is so just wait, please!”
You were looking at him with this pouty look on your face and he literally would’ve said yes to murder at that moment so he agreed. You let out a breath of relief as you got into the car, now all you had to do is wait.
Movie night wasn’t awkward like you feared it might be. When Eddie picked you up he acted totally normal, like he hadn’t been ignoring you all week and you couldn’t tell if that annoyed you or not. Maybe a little. You wanted to ask him about it but you also didn’t want to make things awkward by bringing it up so you tried to act as normal as you could.
That little box in the back of Eddie’s van was in the back of your mind all night though, you couldn’t stop overthinking and second guessing your decision. You even almost went out to his van at one point to take everything out and shove it in your bag but you talked yourself out of it.
Eddie was in a similar boat, he was having fun, he was engaging and acting as normal as he could but all he could think about was what possibly could be in that box. He knows you made him promise but there are several times where he has to physically stop himself from just going out to his van to look in it.
When the last movie ends you and Eddie were both quick to gather your things and leave. Him wanting to get home as fast as possible to see what was in the box and you wanting the looming thoughts of how he might react to just be over with.
Your goodbyes were chaste, neither of you bringing up the gift you had given him. He walked you to the door like he always did but he didn’t ask to come inside and the hug he gave was much faster than the usual bear hugs he would normally give you.
Eddie sped home, he lived in a studio apartment a few miles from yours and the drive had never felt so long. He pulled into his parking spot with a screech, grabbed the box from the back and rushed inside.
He didn’t even bother to take his shoes off, throwing his jacket across the back of the couch before plopping down on one of the cushions with the box in his lap.
He took a deep breath before opening it. At the top was a note, he unfolded it and as he read it he swore all the blood from his body went directly to his cock.
Underneath the note was his shirt, his favorite Iron Maiden one he hadn’t been able to find for a few weeks.
It was folded neatly so he gently took it out of the box, it felt heavier than it should and when it was fully in his grasp he could feel that there was something inside it.
He sets it down in front of him on his coffee table so he can unfold it and his jaw drops when he sees what’s inside. A pair of your panties, a little white lace thong is sitting under a stack of Polaroids.
His hand shakes as he reaches for the photos, when he sees the first one he actually moans, and then they somehow just keep getting better. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the second to last one.
You have his shirt wrapped around your pillow and you’re straddling it in nothing but those fucking socks, and he’s seriously going to lose his mind, especially when he sees the last photo of you in the same position, spread open for him.
It took him a second to get past the fog of lust to realize what this means. You knew. You always knew what he was doing. It all makes sense now. The way your panties were always so easy to steal, how he always happened to have the perfect view of your tits and ass, the photo. Also you took his shirt, you didn’t just take it, you put it on your fucking pillow and humped it. He hopes you did it more than once. He picks up the shirt again and he really looks at it this time, there’s little white streaks all over it, from you. He brings it to his nose and it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. Both of your scents mixed together, topped off with the sweet smell of your pussy.
His initial thought was to rip his pants off and stroke his cock until it was raw but he realized he could do better than that. He could have the real thing. He needed to see you. Now.
He didn’t even think twice about shoving everything back in the box and walking back out the door to his van. Speeding off in the direction towards your house.
You were laying in your bed trying not to let your anxiety consume you when you heard banging on your door. Your heart pounded and your mouth went dry, you knew who it was, there was no way it could be anyone but him.
You opened the door and there he was, looking absolutely feral if you might add. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out, he was breathing like he ran a mile, and his hair was all over the place. You wanted to eat him alive.
“You knew?” He held up the box you had given him earlier the night, his hands shaking.
“Yeah…” You bit your lip as you nodded. “I knew the whole time… from when you took that first pair of panties, I knew.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” He looked at you, his eyes filled with lust and confusion.
You shake your head, a smirk forming across your lips.
“Why not?” He was still panting, hands grasped tightly on the box.
“It was fun, I thought for a while there that you knew I was doing it on purpose, and then when I realized you didn’t it was almost hotter to me for some reason… I’m sorry if that’s weird.” You suddenly felt super self conscious, was he mad you didn’t say anything?
“I stole your panties, multiple pairs might I add, and you’re asking me if it’s weird that you left them out for me?” He laughed, bringing his hand up to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.
“I could never think you were weird angel, do you know how sexy that is? And these photos…” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Did you really…”
“Fuck my pillow with your shirt on it? Yeah.” You nodded, your face nuzzling into his palm.
“Jesus fucking christ… that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, shit.”
He used the hand cradling your face to pull you closer, clashing your lips together in a hungry kiss. You immediately buried your fingers in his hair, like you did in all your fantasies. You wanted him closer but the box was still in between you so you broke the kiss long enough to pull him inside and discard it on your kitchen counter.
You pulled his mouth back down to yours by the collar of his shirt, running your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately granted you access. Your hands made their way back into his hair and he gripped your hips pulling you tightly against him.
“God Eddie, I want you so fucking bad.” You moaned against his lips.
“Angel, I’ll give you anything you want after all these sweet gifts you’ve been leaving me without me even knowing… you really thought I knew?” He took your face in both your hands, running his hands down your neck and rubbing his thumbs along your jaw.
“For a while there, yeah… That’s why I left you that first picture, but then when I came back in my room and you were acting all nervous I realized you definitely didn’t know. I thought for a second I might’ve made you uncomfortable but I took the chance with the photos anyway… looks like it paid off.” You looked him up and down, biting your lip.
“Fuck yeah it did.” He pulled you into another bruising kiss that you happily returned. You stood there in your kitchen making out for what could’ve been minutes or hours, tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths and your hands mapping out each other's bodies.
You finally pulled away, breathless. You smirked at him, placing a kiss on his throat before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie wanted to scream at the sight of your ass in your tiny little pink spandex shorts. He bit down on his fist instead, admiring you for a moment before practically running after you.
You were standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on your face that he’s never seen, one you must have been hiding from him this whole time. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive and he was going to let you.
“Tell me about your fantasies Eddie… tell me what you did with my panties, I wanna know so bad.” Your smirk turned into a little pout, giving him that fucking look. The one he knows now is all an act, but something about that just makes his dick even harder for you.
“Fuck, you really want to know? The first time I sucked on them while I jerked off and right when I was about to cum I wrapped them around my dick and came all over them.”
“Mmm… that’s what I hoped you’d do, tell me more…” You walk up to him and run your hands down his chest, hook your fingers in his front pockets and give him the look.
“I can’t believe this is happening, I - uh - I was so scared if you ever found out you’d hate me. But fuck, I never imagined you would be into it.” He put his hands on your hips and squeezed, almost like he was making sure this was real.
“Well, you better believe it honey, because I am so so into it.. please tell me more.” You lean up and press wet kisses along his neck.
“God damn.” He throws his head to the side more, granting you further access to his throat. “When I had a second pair I sucked on the newer ones and used that same pair to jerk off. Then when I got your perfume I sprayed it on my pillow so that I could smell you and taste you.”
“Mmm Eddie, that’s so hot.” You bite into his throat causing him to let out the cutest little yelp, sucking the skin into your mouth, wanting to mark him as your own.
“Then once I had the bikini photo I was able to see you too, so it was like I was surrounded by you in every way possible.”
His hands snake down your hips to grab onto your ass, the material of your shorts and the feeling of your soft skin contrasting with the calluses on his fingers.
“That day when I found that picture of your tits… and then you somehow found a way to make putting socks on one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and you topped it off by bending over in those little shorts with your ass practically in my face? I barely made it out of your building before I pulled over and jerked off in my van like a depraved psycho.”
You moaned at that, pulling back from his neck to look him in the eyes.
“If you’re depraved… so am I.” You pull your tank top over your head and throw it on the ground behind you somewhere, followed by your shorts. Eddie seriously thinks he’s in love with you at this point because you’re not wearing a bra or panties but you are of course wearing white thigh highs. You’re standing there like every fantasy he’s ever had about you come true, but better.
“Angel, those pictures have nothing on the real thing” He grabbed onto your tits, twisting your nipples between his fingers. Using his nose to brush your hair away so he can whisper in your ear. “I need to taste you so bad, like, so bad. I need to know what the real thing tastes like.”
“Mmm fuck, yes, want that so bad.”
You lay back on your bed and spread your legs, showing him how wet you are for him. Eddie doesn’t think twice before dropping to his knees in front of your bed and throwing your legs over his shoulders. He wishes he had it in him to kiss every inch of you before tasting you but it was like someone offered him the nectar of the gods and he needed it now.
He parted your lips with his fingers before running his tongue along your slit, licking up and down with a flat tongue before shoving it as far as it could go inside you.
“Ho- holy shit! Eddie!! Fuck, your mouth is so good.” Your fingers found his hair again, tugging and the groan he lets out sends vibrations through your pussy.
“I thought your panties tasted sweet but nothing will ever taste sweeter than the real thing, oh my god baby.”
His tongue comes up to circle your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You feel his fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting his pointer and middle finger deep inside you. He curls his fingers in just the right way, he’s still sucking your clit while he runs circles around it with his tongue and you feel yourself getting close.
“I’m gonna - I’m gonna - fuckinnng cum - I’m gonna cum.” You pull his hair again and start rocking your hips against his face. You watch his eyes roll back and feel him moan into you again, knowing he’s enjoying this as much as you is what sends you over the edge. Your hips rising off the bed and your hands falling from his hair to grasp the sheets. Eddie brings his free hand down on your abdomen to hold you down as he fucks you through your high.
You try to push him off once it becomes too much but you hear, or more so feel him let out an “Uh-Uh” into your pussy. His hand that’s pinning you down doesn’t move and his fingers stay buried inside you. He’s licking and sucking on your clit like a man starved and you immediately feel another orgasm crash over you. Your entire body shakes and you let out noises you didn’t even know you can make.
When he feels you push at his head this time he lets you, looking up at you with a grin on his face, his chin and mouth covered in your juices.
“Sorry… you just tasted so good and when you came it was so hot I didn’t want to stop.” He looked awfully bashful for someone who was just eating you out like it was his fucking job.
“You’re sorry? Holy shit Eddie, I’ve never cum that hard in my entire life.”
He smiled triumphantly, you’d think just told him he won the lottery. He came up and covered his body with yours, kissing you without wiping his face. The taste of you on his tongue was intoxicating so you pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, then his chin, and down his neck.
“Fuck, we taste so good together.” You moan.
“Holy fucking shit, you’re my dream girl.”
“Let me return the favor, I wanna taste you too, also you are wearing way too many clothes right now.” You pull at the hem of his shirt and he puts his arm behind his head to pull it off.
You’ve never seen him shirtless before and you needed a better view. You push on his shoulders until he lifts himself off of you and lays back on the bed. You throw your leg over him to straddle him, looking down at him in awe.
“Wow Eddie… you’re beautiful.”
You smile at him with that devilish little smile he’s becoming addicted to as you run your soft hands along his chest before raking your nails down his torso, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His back arches off the bed as he lets out this sound that you want to hear him make over and over again.
You grind your hips down on his, fiddling with his belt loop and looking at him with a question in your eyes.
“Please.” Now he’s the one giving you the look and you understand why he loves it much. Those big brown eyes are wide and glassy, there’s a slight pout on his lips and even though he just ate you out so good it makes you want to sit on his face.
But there’s something you want more, something you’ve been dreaming about. So you undo his belt and jeans with deft fingers, pulling on the waistband of both his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down and when his cock pops out and hits his stomach your jaw actually drops.
You always figured Eddie was big. You caught small glimpses through his jeans when he thought he was hiding his boners better than he really was, so you had an idea. But it’s bigger than you imagined, and so so pretty. The tip red and leaking precum, each vein prominent because of how hard he was. You lick your lips and spit on your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times. He makes that sound again and you know you’re addicted to it now.
“Your cock is huge baby, I can’t wait to feel it stretching me out.” You spit on the head of his cock, circling your thumb around it before you lean down and take it in your mouth.
“Holy - fuckING - sh - shit!” Eddie instinctually jerks forward, his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag.
He’s about to apologize but you don’t pull off, just push his cock further down your throat until your nose is snug against the hair at the base. There’s tears coming out of the sides of your eyes and drool dripping down your chin but you’re moaning and so he can tell you’re enjoying it. You circle your tongue around his shaft a few times before pulling off.
Not for long though, you take him as far as you can without gagging and start bobbing your head up and down, your hand moving in time with whatever your mouth can't reach. Eddie is a moaning mess, he’s babbling your name in between curse words, switching between grabbing onto your hair, the sheets, and his own hair.
When you pull off his dick and bring your mouth to his balls, swirling your tongue all around his sack before sucking one into your mouth he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. But he’s also positive that he wants to fuck you so he grabs you by your hair and pulls you off.
“Hey, I wasn’t done!” You look at him with a pout and you whine. Every time Eddie thinks he can’t possibly be anymore obsessed with you, you prove him wrong.
“Yeah but I was about to come and I want to fuck you so badly.” He’s the one whining now.
“Can I ride you?” You ask him like that’s even a question.
“Fuck yeah you can.”
You eagerly climb back up to straddle him, wasting no time lining him up with your entrance and sliding down on his cock. It’s still a stretch but you’re so wet it hardly hurts. You rock back and forth a few times once your hips are flush against yours and you moan in unison at the feeling.
“Oh sh- shit, your pussy is so fucking t- tight. Feels better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
“Yeah? Your cock is so fucking big, filling me up so good Eds.”
You start riding him hard and fast, your ass bouncing against his thighs, your tits on full display and you’re moaning his name over and over again like a prayer. He has one hand on your ass, grabbing it so hard you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise there tomorrow, and you honestly hope you do. He brings the thumb of his free hand up to your bottom lip and runs it across it.
“Suck.”
You do, happily, swirling your tongue around the digit and moaning at the feeling of having something in your mouth while your pussy is being filled too. He pulls it out and you’re about to mourn the loss but then he’s rubbing circles on your clit and fucking up into you to meet your thrusts.
He starts fucking you so fast that you can’t keep up, you put your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh and just let him take you. He’s fucking you hard and fast, his cock hitting just the right spot while he continues to circle your clit.
“Eddie I’m c - close I-I’m close.” Your babbling and drooling, fucked out and on the brink of what you know is going to be a mind altering orgasm.
“Me too Angel, I need you to cum for me. Cum all over my cock just like you dreamed about when you were humping your little pillow.” His feet are flat on the mattress and he’s somehow fucking you harder than he was before. When you cum your vision goes white, pleasure jolts through your entire system and you aren’t even sure you’re on this planet anymore.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, where do you?”
Eddie talking brings you back to earth just enough to respond, to tell him what you want.
“Inside! Eddie please inside! I want you to cum inside me so bad!” You start to meet his thrusts, he’s still rubbing your clit and you’re so sensitive you already feel another orgasm coming on.
“Oh fuck!!!” Eddie cries out as his thrusts slow down to pumps and his cum spills inside you. The feeling sends you over the edge, cumming right along with him. Your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth.
When you come down you let yourself fall onto his chest, both of you panting, your hearts pounding. You lay like that for a while, catching your breath and enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually your knees start to cramp and you slide off of him, settling at his side with your head on his chest.
“I’m gonna fuckin marry you someday.”
You laugh, even though he doesn’t sound like he’s joking.
“Yeah? I think I’d like that. Then my underwear will stop going missing because we will live in the same house.”
You both started cracking up at that.
“I’m serious though, can I have some of them back? You really did steal all my best ones…” You looked up at him and pouted, giving him the look.
“That’s not gonna work the same now that I know you’re just using it against me…”
“You sure about that?” You stick your bottom lip out further and make your eyes even wider.
“Ugh, no. You’re still not getting them back though, I’ll buy you new ones.” He brings his hand up to push your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your temple.
“Why? So you can just take those ones too?” You tease.
“Nah, I have the real thing now. I’d rather take them off you.”
Tagging the bbs: @the-unforgivenn @lokis-army-77 @gravedigginbbydoll @bettyfrommars @eddiemunson95 @melodymunson @bangaveragewhitewine
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A/B/O!Reader x Task Force 141
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Task Force 141, the most fear-inducing task of the active force. 
Before you joined, it was composed of four massive, scary-looking alpha. At some point, everyone thought about how there were no fights between them.
A normal pack cannot function without members of all subgenders, but again, the 141 is not a normal pack.
John Price, captain of the unit and leader of the pack; whatever he said was set on stone. The alpha, whose parents were both betas was the perfect mix of genetic and learned habilites, a calming and reassuring nature unpropper of an alpha.
You were surprised when you were to his office, even more, when the other three men were also inside. But they matched your surprise with theirs when they saw you enter the room. 
Almost comically small next to them, you were not built as Soap who (at just a couple of inches shorter than the rest) makes up for it with his wideness. You are short, have the athletic build proper of a soldier, a cute face and a neck covered in scent blocker tape. 
“I don't like it when people can tell what I'm feeling.”
That was the only explanation. 
Still, they were surprised. You were not what they expected, on your file was just a list of the missions you have completed, many of them going solo and still succeeding. Little was written about you outside of work: “Behavioral problems (they don't interfere with the mission), don't touch scent blocker tape; will use scent tactics to teammates.”
But the task force was not the most normal one to begin with, so they were not the right one to judge. You'll fit in just fine. 
And it did, for months until something happened on a mission.
There are expensive suppressants, too expensive. And even with your raise, you can't afford them. So you use the slightly worse one, the one that makes you feel every symptom of your heat just one step before collapsing. But as long as anybody else knows you are an omega, everything will work out.
You are used to them already, on the outside you look perfectly fine, a little bit pissed if anything. On the inside, you can feel your blood boil with your fever, your bones hurt as if they were being broken and your inner omega keeps screaming at you to jump any of the men walking mere meters before you. 
The ice-cold water of the river you are walking across helps you with the high temperature of your body, and when it gets too deep you need to swim across you don't really mind it. Until you finally get out, and the corner of the tape of your neck starts to itch. 
You scratch it, pressing it down as you do, but instead; it gets stuck on your glove peeling it back, your nose instantly filling with the reekingly sweet smell of an omega on heat.
You tape it back quickly, trying not to panic, is fine, it was just a second, you are wearing a scarf over the tape, you smelled it because is your own neck. 
Everyone just got out of the water, is fine, they probably didn't smell you. It's fine.
And when they turn around, eyes black with how dilated their pupils are, and you know.
They have smelled you.
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I've always been yours // Eddie Munson
Prompt: "I think... I'm in love with him.” "Congrats on being the last one to find out" + the 5 ways to say I love you without saying I love you.
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wc: 14K (I'm learning what brevity means y'all)
warnings: female reader, some implied sexual stuff towards the end but not really ish, friends-to-lovers, oblivious idiots in love, the beginnings of rockstar eddie.
Masterlist || AO3
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1. Covering sharp edges with their hands, so you don’t get hurt.
You were going to get Max’s birthday cake absolutely perfect even if it fucking killed you, you thought to yourself as your arm ached the harder you mixed the batter.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help Nov?” Eddie asked again.
Pushing the hair out of your eyes with the back of your wrist, you huffed. “I’m okay. I think I adjusted the recipe perfectly this time. I just need to make sure there’s no lumps or the chocolate won’t-”
“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU WHEELER!” You heard Dustin yell from the basement.
Eddie snorted. “Ten bucks on Mike,” he said from his place on the counter.
“I’m telling Dustin you said that,” you said, turning from your batter and shooting him a playful look over your shoulder.
He clasped his imaginary pearls dramatically. “Fair maiden, you dare betray our sacred friendship?”
Not able to keep your laugh down, you shook your head. Loud stomping alerted you to the shift of location of whatever fight was happening.
“Do not come into the kitchen with your shit!” You shouted.
Dustin’s voice floated in from the living room. “But Mike-”
“But Mike nothing!” You shouted. “You two shitheads work it out!”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Mike shouted, grunting right after. “Ow! Dustin!”
Eddie immediately huffed out laughter. “I’d listen to her, she’s on her fifth batch. Her face is getting whiter and whiter with each cake.”
Your hand flew up to your face, fingers coming back dusted in flour. Turning your glare to his grinning face, you rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have told me?”
“And ruin how cute you look with all that flour on your face?” Eddie said, nonchalantly going back to the book in his hands. Doing your best to ignore the flustered expression you knew was growing on your face, you turned back to the batter. Eddie always managed to draw out reactions from you, you were sure that was the main reason why he kept doing it.
I like unnerving you he’d said. Asshole, you thought fondly, glancing at him. A good chunk of flour dusted down towards your hands at the motion. Christ, how much flour was on your face?
“I’m going to slap you the second I put this into a pan,” you threatened, trying to get it all off.
Eddie’s grin morphed into something more. “Promises, promises,” he winked.
And there went the butterflies in your stomach.
You opened your mouth to say something else when a blur of curly hair, black shirts, and a flying white shoe flung the kitchen door open.
“Guys,” Eddie warned, placing his book down.
“For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong now?” You said, putting the bowl down onto the kitchen island and stepping towards them with your hands on your hips.
Dustin was the quickest to speak up. “He borrowed the comic that I just managed to get and got it wet!”
“It wasn’t on purpose!” Mike shouted back. “I swear, Holly was eating at the table and spilled her soda!”
“Likely story!” Dustin snapped, eyes narrowing. “You’re doing it because I accidentally broke your figurines last week. I didn’t want to hit that pothole and go flying!”
“For the love of- it wasn’t on purpose!”
Dustin’s arms swung out and Mike darted left to avoid being hit. Before they could even crash together, you knew exactly what was going to happen.
As if in slow motion, you watched as Dustin shoved Mike’s arm into the mixing bowl. Without much prompting, your perfect batter, went tumbling off the island and flew with a vengeance in a million different directions. The opened bag of flour next to it, toppled right after it.
The silence as the bowl wobbled to a stop was painful. You blinked, shocked for a few seconds and nodded dumbly.
Well, that hurt more than the demobats clawing at your neck in the Upside Down.
“I’m going to rip your spines out and play jump rope with it,” you said calmly, eye twitching, at Mike and Dustin. The flour was splattered everywhere, including your new vans and the crevices no one was ever able to clean in the cracks of the linoleum.  
The two idiots shuffled closer to the door. At least they had the decency to look somewhat mortified. Before you could go through with your threat, Eddie’s hands came down to their necks and they both winced.
“Dudes, not cool,” he said, voice uncharacteristically serious. “She said don’t come into the kitchen for a reason. Now she’s gotta wait until you two assholes clean this all up before starting again.”
“Wha-” “But!”
Their protests quickly died down when he smacked them in the back of their heads.
“You break it, you fix it,” he said.
Hiding a smile, you rounded the island towards the rag by the sink and sighed. “Try to hurry, I want to get this decorated before midnight,” you said to the two apologetic teens who were already moving towards the mess.
Pushing the door out into the dining room you tried your best not to trek batter anywhere. Swiping the rag down your face and hair to get rid of any remaining flour you leaned down to help save your vans.
A sudden hand flying out towards your face made you flinch back. Falling onto your butt, you groaned as your hip smacked into the leg of the table.
Eddie shook his head, a soft expression on his face. Your eyes trailed down to where his hand was curled around the corner of the dining table. “Did I almost go face first into that?” You asked from where you were sprawled.
“Yeah, Nova, you almost cracked your skull,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I’d tell you to be more careful but it’d be a waste of breath.” Eddie tugged the rag out your hand and sat down by your feet.
“I-I am insulted.” The indignation cancelled out by the stammering. Eddie had picked up one of your, now dirty, sneakers and plopped it into his lap. He went about meticulously cleaning the chocolate off. “I can do that. You don’t have to-”
His brown eyes darted up to yours, silencing you. “I know I don’t have to; I want to.”
Mildly surprised, and a little flustered by his earnest tone, you nodded dumbly. By the time he was done, there was a pink tinge to his cheeks that you found stupidly endearing.
“There you go fair maiden. Good as new.” He bowed, dropping the rag onto the table. He offered his hand and pulled you up with a firm grip.
Warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight of his wide smile and soft gaze. “Thanks Eddie,” you said, smiling up at him.
He tossed an arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards the kitchen. “Come on, let’s go give them a little more hell,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.
Not one to resist, you beamed up at him and nodded. “Dibs on Mike,” you said, laughing when he did.
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2. Covering you with a blanket when you look cold.
You met Eddie when you were in middle school but, you hadn’t really become friends until freshman year of high school. You were a cheerleader, one of the few freshmen on the team, and you’d caught Tommy Hagan cornering Eddie in a hallway.
You hadn’t hesitated at the sight of the stupid bully and had thrown your pompoms at his head. With a promise of a Herkie to the face, Tommy and his entourage had left you alone.
“Are you okay?” You asked him, bending over to pick up your tossed pompoms.
Eddie, however, hadn’t looked like he was two seconds away from being shoved into a locker. He was beaming. At you.
“What?” You asked, looking around at the empty hallway. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, I just…didn’t ever think that my knight in shining armor would be a cheerleader,” he said, tone teasing.
Biting back a smile, you crossed your arms. “Why? Because we’re vapid and only care about our hair?” You cocked your hip.
“No,” Eddie said, straightening, “I swear, that’s not what I-”
Not able to help it, you burst out into laughter. “I’m fucking with you,” you said, hiding your laugh behind your hand. “I know Tommy’s little sister and she basically rules his household. He knows not to mess with her.”
Eddie smiled and you’d realized that he had a really nice smile. With a flourish, he bowed. “Well, I’m in your debt knight.”
Scrunching your nose, you shook your head. “Not a fan of the nickname?” He asked, starting towards the exit doors. Walking backwards, he drifted closer to you. “What about Nova?”
“What?” You laughed, surprised. “How’d you go from Knight to Nova?”
“Well, you’re my knight in shining armor – what’s brighter than a supernova?”
Throwing your head back, your laugh echoed down the hallway. You’d quickly become friends.
“Novaaaa, come on,” Eddie groaned, flopping down onto the sofa, “just pick a movie.” Clearly, almost a decade later, the nickname had stuck.
“Don’t rush me!” You told him, eyeing the three tapes in front of you. “Which one do you want to watch?”
Eddie’s head lolled back around to you and he smiled. “It’s your turn to pick,” he reminded you.
“I know, but-”
“Just put on Grease,” Eddie said, voice muffled by the pillow. You were about to protest, what an absolutely rude assumption, when a knock echoed from Eddie’s front door. “Pizza’s here. Pick a movie!”
Sighing, knowing that he’d had a bad week, you pushed Indiana Jones into the VCR. The smell of hot pizza wafted over to you and your stomach immediately roared – reminding you that you hadn’t had enough time to eat before your shift.
“Alright, alright, I heard you,” Eddie said, motioning to your stomach. He brought the box over, handing you some water and frowned at the television. “What’s this?”
“Indianamph Jonesah,” you said, around a mouthful of steaming pizza. You were going to miss your tastebuds but goddamn if it wasn’t a great mouthful.
Eddie rolled his eyes, pulled the tape out and shoved Grease in. Dodging your flailing arm, he dropped to the floor by the coffee table, his shoulder brushing your knee.
The opening music started and you found your eyes drawn to the screen. “What the hell?”
“I got that because I know you like to watch one of the same five movies after a long shift,” he said, picking up his own slice.
“But-”
He bumped your leg with his shoulder. “It was your turn to pick, I promise – I don’t mind. Besides, it’s starting to grow on me. It’s definitely better than Overboard.”
“Hey, that’s a good movie!”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Right, and I’m Ozzy Osbourne.”
“Well,” you said with a smile growing, “you had the chance to bite off a bat’s head but you wasted that opportunity.”
Choking on his mouthful of pizza, Eddie laughed and shot you a soft look. “I’m glad my brush with death is something you can laugh about now.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been almost a year. Thought it was about time we all started joking about almost dying,” you said, “besides, Max started it.”
“I’ve never met another person with such morbid humor,” Eddie said, eyes following Danny and Sandy as they kissed on the beach. A flash of something shot through you but you ignored it.
You shrugged despite the fact that you knew he couldn’t see it. “I’m kinda proud of her for having it,” you said, bopping your head to the music you knew by heart.
I solve my problems and I see the light
We gotta loving thing, we gotta feed it right
Eddie turned to you suddenly, his eyes shifting. “Yeah, I’m proud of all of us.”
You grinned at him, dropping your plate onto the table and getting comfortable on Eddie’s couch. It was one of his better purchases – Wayne had chosen to accept the new trailer the state had bought him while Eddie had moved into a small one bedroom downtown. It made more sese considering it was close to the music store you both worked at.
“I’m not pausing the movie if you knock out,” he warned as you fluffed the pillow behind your head.
“I’m not going to fall asleep, when am I ever the one who knocks out first?”
Eddie shot you a look. “Did you want me to bring out a list or?”
Smacking the back of his head, he ducked and laughed when you half missed your target. “Alright, alright, I’m missing the good stuff.”
“I knew you liked this movie,” you said, nudging him with your knee. Eddie shot you a withering glare, or he tried to, because you laughed at his attempt. Amused, his eyes drifted to over your head and you were about to turn when something dropped into your lap.
Eddie pulled the crocheted blanket over your legs and let it pool around your waist. The black and white blanket had been gifted to Eddie by Robin. She’d decided she was going to learn to crochet last year and spent the entire months leading up to Christmas lost in her projects. Your green scarf was hanging with your jacket by the door. You loved this blanket and you knew Eddie did too – it was always draped across the sofa for easy access.
 “My place gets cold at night,” he said at your questioning look, “you know that. Besides, you’ll make it an hour before knocking out.”
The sweet gesture was overshadowed by his smug look and your hand jutted out to hit any part of him you could reach. “I’m not going to fall asleep.”
Both of you went back and forth, poking fun, and as you watched Danny ignore Sandy for Cha-Cha, you heard Eddie snort.
“What?” You asked, tapping your fingers along to the beat.
“I just always thought it was funny how he leaves her behind, he just goes with it,” he said.
You pointed to the cameras. “They’re on live television,” you explained sleepily.
“So?” Eddie raised his brow. “Are you defending him?”
“Of course not!” Why was this couch so comfortable? The blanket moved around you, warm hands tucking it over your shoulders and sighing when you snuggled into it.
Eddie’s knowing smile went a little fuzzy around the edges as your eyes felt harder and harder to keep open. Before you could formulate a comeback, the exhaustion of the day pulled you under. As you were entirely lost to the world, you heard Eddie murmur, “I would never leave you behind.”
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3. Holding your hand when you’re falling apart.
Four years of cheerleading practice had not prepared you for what it truly meant to run for your life. Not really.
It stood to reason that you’d really never had to run from an interdimensional monster before – up until your employment at The Gap. Honestly, it was The Gap’s fault.
You’d met Robin at the first Hawkins Middle School band practice as small seventh graders. Her mom had told her she needed to get a job for the summer and she’d dragged you along with her. She had gotten hired at Scoops Ahoy and, in your defense, who was going to say no to a daily free ice cream? So, if you really thought about it – it was Scoop’s fault. And Robin’s.
The moment you saw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington behind the counter, you should’ve turned the other way. But no, Robin was absolutely sure he’d changed. You snorted. Sure, he’d changed. Having all your friends drop you towards the end of your senior year would humble anyone. You’d been close enough to the source when the downfall of The Hair happened. It hadn’t been pretty. Especially after Nancy Wheeler decided to stick by Jonathan.
While he hadn’t been one of the few who liked to remind you of your low spot on the totem pole, he definitely wasn’t Mother Theresa. You’d seen how his friends treated Eddie’s friends – people who they deemed outcasts. Eddie had only been mostly spared because you two were practically fused at the hip. Besides, he knew that Nancy liked you – the two of you had hung out before considering you’d both been close friends with Barb. While you and her weren’t best friends, you knew he didn’t want to mess with anyone Nancy liked. Which, really, made him a selfish, self-centered asshole. And anyway, you’d seen what he’d spray painted onto the theater header.
It wasn’t until you saw him with Dustin, one of your favorite neighbors, that you’d conceded. How could someone who clearly held a middle schooler up to such high standards be that bad? Besides, Dustin was a kid – but you trusted him. Robin, of course, still held that against you to this day.
To be fair, Steve himself hadn’t won you over until he’d taken hit after hit to keep you and Robin as safe as possible. Russians in a secret lab under Starcourt injecting you with truth serum was not something you’d had on your 1985 bingo card.
You still remembered how Steve had grabbed each of your wrists so tightly that it’d taken weeks for the bruises to fade. He’d practically tossed you both under a massive table when the Mind Flayer had landed mid-food court. Robin clutched at your shoulders, Steve a steadying presence behind you.
He’d waited, for hours, as the EMTs cleared all of you outside the burning mall. And while you’d hoped that this was the last time any of your friends, new or old, had tried to save you – clearly that had been wishful thinking.
The muscles in your arms burned as you hauled yourself through the gate. Breath knocked out of you as you landed on your back, you glanced up to see Eddie’s hands stilling on the makeshift rope.
“Come on!” Dustin screamed. “Eddie come on!”
A flash of something crossed his expression and you knew. You knew he was going to do something stupid.
“Eddie!” You screamed, voice cracking in your desperation. His wide eyes struck yours and you knew the moment he’d decided. “Don’t you fucking dare! Edward Munson, you listen to me right now. Climb this fucking rope.”
“I’m sorry Nov,” he said, staring up at you with a sad smile. Without thinking, you scrambled to throw yourself down the gate but the rope dropped by your feet, cut from the source. “I love you. Take care of Dustin,” he said, eyes sincere and apologetic.
“Eddie!” You both screamed, voices hoarse.
Panic clawed at your chest. You couldn’t breathe – he was…he was going to get himself fucking killed. Spurring into action, Dustin pushed you aside as he grunted from the effort of pushing the dining table towards the middle of the room. “Come on! Those things will kill him, we gotta get back!”
Not one to be told twice, you shoved a few pieces of furniture on top of the table for good measure. You climbed up to the gate, barely able to touch the edges. Adrenaline rushed through you as you looked down to Dustin. “Give me a boost, I can almost reach it!”
Without hesitating, Dustin kneeled, hands on your calves and you used his knee to hoist yourself up. You didn’t have much time to adjust yourself but you channeled every tumbling move you’d ever done and tried to tuck and roll. Mostly successful, you only winced as your shoulder collided painfully with the metal chair.
“Okay, I’ll be right back!”
“You can’t just fucking leave me here!” Dustin shouted. You pointed up at him with all the authority you could muster.
“Try to tie more sheets together, the others will need help climbing through when they come back,” you glared at him, “don’t do anything stupid Henderson.”
Not waiting for a response, you kicked the trailer door open and scanned the field. A tornado of bats and a loud, heartbreaking, scream cut through you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you fucking idiot,” you said, panicking as you ran. You watched as the bats took turns diving for him, his spear barely keeping them back.
“Come on!” He screamed into the eye of the storm. Because of course he did. The idiot. You willed your legs to run faster, to just get you there so you could help. Then, they struck. Eddie’s hands whipped up to his throat and you watched him slam into the floor.
“Eddie!” You screamed, throat raw, but it was drowned out by the screeching bats. A flash of Billy being impaled, lifted into the air, and thrown like a ragdoll bubbled up to your consciousness. No, please, you begged, not Eddie, not him.
Slowing as you neared, you pulled the gun from around your shoulders and squared them like Hopper had taught you. The shots echoed despite the chaos, your blood rushing through your body. “Get away from him!” You shrieked, fighting your way through the opening you’d created.
You slipped on the unmoving body of the ones you’d shot down and slid directly into an motionless Eddie. Covering his body with your own, you raised your gun as they swooped down. Almost out of bullets, you’d just hit another when one managed to swipe you from the side – claws digging into your skin. Screaming, you waved the gun like Steve’s bat and swatted as many as you could out the air.
Shit, you couldn’t keep this up. There were too many.
Then, as if puppets that were cut, they all dropped to the floor. One slammed into your bad shoulder painfully and you cried out.
“Nov?”
The weak voice was like beacon and you quickly slid to the ground. You weren’t going to question your good luck. Pulling the leather jacket off his chest your heart dropped down next to the dead demobats and you immediately started to cry.
“That bad huh?” He joked, voice wet as blood poured out his mouth.
“You absolute fucking asshole. You dickhead,” you berated him as you tied your own cargo jacket around the gash in his stomach. Rising to your knees, you quickly pulled your belt off your waist and made a tourniquet around his upper thigh. Your hands were drenched in blood and you forced the bile down. Focus, you need to stop the bleeding. You needed to get him back to the trailer, you yelled at yourself.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie’s weak hand came up to your forearm and your heart creaked as the cracks deepened. “It’ll be okay.”
“No it won’t you fucking moron, you’re my best friend – I – can’t watch you die. I won’t,” you said, hauling him onto your lap. You tried to stand but your shoulder immediately gave and you both crashed to the ground.
A sob wrenched it’s way out your throat, helpless and willing your shoulder to work. Just this time, please, please, you begged.
“Nova,” Eddie’s voice trailed off, weaker than before.
Cradling his stupid face, your hands left streaks of blood on his pale skin. Shaking, your fingers caressed his jaw. The brown eyes, more familiar to you than your own, slowly started to fade.
“Eddie, stay with me, someone’s coming okay – it’s going to be okay,” you said, entire body clinging to his.
“I-I told you this was my year,” he said, blood tricking down. His unseeing eyes searched for you, like they always did, and you realized that you wouldn’t survive this. Eddie was going to fade from existence, the entire town thinking him a murderer, and this would finally be the storm that broke you.
“I can’t live without you,” you stammered, words bubbling up in rapid succession, you had things you needed to say – stuff you needed to do with him still. You were supposed to have time – it wasn’t supposed to end this way. Jaw aching as you bit down your anguish, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and he sighed. “Eddie, please,” you begged, unashamed and desperate.
Take me, you begged the dark skies that mocked you, anyone but him.
“I l-love-” he gagged, choking on his own blood and you pressed your forehead against his.
“Sh, sh, it’s okay, I’m here Eddie. I’m here. I know. Me too,” you said, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Sorry you weren’t fast enough, sorry you couldn’t save him, sorry for having to be the one to watch him die. Eddie’s hand came up to your wrist, squeezing once before dropping limp.
The silence around you was deafening. No, no, no, no.
You screamed, anguished, and the pain unbearable. Anger coursed through you, mixing with your overwhelming grief. It crashed into you from all angles, its hands grabbing onto you and pulling you under. Your throat hurt but you couldn’t stop screaming, all of you couldn’t stop screaming in the unfairness of it all.
“Eddie?” A voice shouted through the darkness. You whipped your head up, searching through the night for the voice.
“Steve?” You called out tentatively, hand reaching for your discarded gun. Was this a trick? You scanned your surroundings, vision blurry. No, you steeled yourself, this place had already taken everything from you – they couldn’t have his body too.
Swinging the gun towards the quick footsteps, you ignored your trembling arms.
“Hey, hey! Wait, it’s me,” Steve said, hands up. He stepped in front of Robin, his eyes on the still body behind you.
Eyes wild, you blinked away your constant tears, and loosened the hold on your gun. “Stevie?”
“It’s me, it’s me – I promise,” he said, hand coming out to take your shotgun. Handing it to Nancy, he pulled you into his arms. “What happened?” He winced when he saw your skin bleeding sluggishly.
“Eddie?” Robin whispered, dropping to her knees beside him.
Willing yourself to keep it together you nodded towards the house. “What happened?”
“He’s dead, we got him – Nance got him. It’s over.”
Feeling weak, you leaned on Nancy’s outstretched arm and watched as Steve dropped to examine him.
“He’s – he – cut the rope – I tried, my shoulder – it, oh God,” you said, scrambling towards the nearest wall and throwing up everything in your stomach. A warm hand came up to your back, rubbing it back and forth until your heaving stopped.
“I got you,” Nancy said, “I’m here, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”
He was dead. Eddie was gone. Nothing would ever be okay again.Your blood-soaked hands reached out and she clasped them. Eyes on yours, strong and steady, she nodded. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Nance,” your voice sounded warped. “I tried.”
She shushed you, bringing your arm over her shoulders and taking most of your weight as you crumbled. You watched as Robin and Steve grabbed him, moving quickly towards the trailer.
“What? Where are you going?” Nancy shouted.
Robin grunted under the weight as she climbed the steps. “He’s got a pulse! The tourniquets are holding! We gotta move fast!”
.
Coincidentally, the nearest hospital to Forest Park was at the town line one over. Robin had assured you that since it wasn’t Hawkins, they weren’t likely to recognize him instantly. Worry for Max joined your overwhelming weight as you glanced at the destruction the earthquake had wreaked. “Do you think he got her?” You asked, voice barely audible.
“I killed him as the clock was chiming,” Nancy said, “it only rang three times. I’ll call when we get to the hospital – they’ll be okay. We’re all okay. We have to be.”
After admitting Eddie, a concerned nurse offered you a pair of scrubs to change into. Glancing down at your clothes, you realized you were covered in blood. Eddie’s blood.
Tearing up, her eyes had softened incredibly and she helped you wash it off. “It’ll all work out honey, you’ll see,” she whispered as the blood dribbled down the drain. You’d barely felt the needle as she stitched the claw marks on your chest and neck.
It’d taken an hour of arguing but you promised the others you could keep it together for the night as they drove back to Hawkins to figure out what was going on. Robin had kissed the top of your now clean hair, and clasped her hands with yours. “I will be back as soon as I can, okay? As fast as I can.” The fierceness in her tone had your eyes tearing up again and she hugged you tightly.
Five hours after being admitted, with no news, you received the second shock of the night.
“Hopper?” You sputtered, almost bowled over to see the ghost of your old Chief of police.
Head shaved, a few pounds lighter, but the smile that came from hearing your voice was just the same. “Hey kid,” he said, bringing you into a tight hug.
It took another hour, and the arrival of just about everyone you knew, for a nurse to let you know that Eddie had stabilized. They’d needed to operate to stop the internal bleeding, he’d needed a few blood transfusions and was placed into a medically induced coma, but he’d be alright.
“He’s…he’ll be okay?” You asked, not willing to cling onto any false hope.
The nurse from earlier stepped forward, her kind eyes wrinkled as she smiled. “Yeah, honey, he’ll be okay.”
Swallowing back your tears, you pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”
Two hours later, while you sat glued to his side, Hopper let you know that Eddie was cleared of all charges.
“Do you want to know?” He asked.
Shaking your head, you smiled up at him for the first time in the last twelve hours. The sun peaked out from the horizon, drenching Eddie’s dark room in a warm orange light. “I don’t care how. Just – thank you.”
Hopper ruffled your hair and you leaned into his touch like cat arching for more affection. “They’ll want your statement but not until a few days from now. As far as you know, you were over Robin’s with Steve for the entire night. Her neighbor, Mrs. Matthews has already said she could corroborate your alibi.”
Smiling, you nodded. “I don’t even want to know what the U.S. government had on her.”
“You don’t,” he agreed.
It took Eddie another day to wake up. Wayne had finally convinced you to go get something to eat, I won’t leave his side sweetheart, I promise.
You balanced the two coffees in your hand as you pushed open the door to Eddie’s room. Surprised to see the entire party surrounded by the bed, you blinked, a little taken aback.
Dustin was the first to catch your eye, his grin so wide it almost split his face in two. “Eddie’s awake!” Your eyes darted to the bed, the man in it grinning up at a tearful Wayne.
“You absolute asshole,” you hissed, not able to keep it down.
The party laughed, Steve shaking his head. “Hi Nova,” Eddie said, voice hoarse, and you felt your stomach swoop as those eyes met yours. “I’m sorry.”
“You better be,” you said, handing Wayne his coffee. He promised to be back, wanting to speak to the doctor. The moment the door closed; chaos reigned. Everyone talked over each other and you watched, amused. Sipping your coffee, you smacked Lucas’ shoulder as he made fun of something Mike said.
Steve’s whistle was loud enough to pierce several eardrums and you winced. “One at time! The man just woke up from a coma.”
“Medically induced coma,” Mike clarified.
You fought the urge to smack him too.
Despite the severity of what brought Eddie to the hospital, after a week – he was given the all clear. The party was at Eddie’s new trailer, decorating the larger space for his homecoming. You’d been tasked to watch over the patient. You’d arrived early, still not entirely able to have him out of your sights for too long. As you popped your head in, you realized he was asleep.
Dropping into the comfortable chair next to his bed, you set yourself up for waiting. In the past week and a half, you hadn’t managed to find a moment alone with Eddie. There was always a party member at his bedside at all times. Or a band member. Or a parent.
Eddie’s room had quickly become well known for the noise and chattering that spilled out into the hallways. At its absence, you realized you didn’t know what to do.
Smacking his lips, Eddie’s head moved towards the door, eyes still closed. As he shifted, you caught sight of the large bandage by his neck. The purple bruising on his arms looked painful and your chest clenched at the sight of them.
It seemed that before you could decide for yourself, the silence swallowed you whole. Bringing you hand up to your lips, you tried to silence your sobs. Chest heaving with the effort, you buried your face into your hands and cried. The last week of pushing everything down and resolving to deal with it later had finally caught up to you.
Everyone has their reckoning, you were reminded. This was yours.
A warm hand came up to your shoulder, the bandaged one, and softly caressed where the tape adhered to your skin. “Hey you,” he said, sleep clinging to the corner of his knowing gaze.
“I’m sorry,” you sputtered, trying to push it back down but there was no use. Pandora’s box had been opened. Turning from him, you caught sight of his frown. His pained grunt made you whip back to him and you almost tripped over your own feet as you rushed to help. Eddie’s expression was twisted as he sat up, sweat beading at his temples.
“Lie down, you psychopath,” you said once the lump in your throat let you speak. “The bed will move for you! You just had surgery on your side for fuck’s sake.” You ducked your head, trying to avoid his eyes as you adjusted the bed to his liking.
Stubborn as always, Eddie tapped your forearm. “Don’t hide from me, not you,” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. Giving in, you let your blurry sight find his and he sighed. “Nova, you should’ve told me.”
“Told you what?” You said through desperate inhales.
“That you’d been bottling it up – come here,” he said. You wished you could climb into the bed with him but you couldn’t, his incision still very off limits to movement. You were trying to decide where to touch, when he decided for you. His right hand opened, fingers wiggling towards you. “Come on.”
Interlocking your fingers with his, relishing in the touch, you pressed the back of his hand to your cheek. His pulse beat against yours, alive – wondrously and beautifully alive. This, this was what you needed. A moment to lose it before rearranging the bricks of your mental foundation back in place. The image of him, eyes unseeing, bubbled to the surface and despair twisted it’s venomous grip around your lungs.
Choking, you let the sob come out unbidden. Not sure you could stop it if you wanted to, you let the tears drown you. Weeping, you whimpered as you accepted what could’ve been. What you would’ve had to watch. The fact that you would’ve had something so important ripped from your grasp.
He's okay, you thought, he’s alive.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice a quiet echo of Nancy’s lost words. “I’m here. I got you.” After a few minutes, your chest stopped heaving and you could take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” you told him, a little embarrassed. “Thank you.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling your hand from your face and towards his own. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles and you blinked at him.
“Why are you sorry?” Christ, you were a mess. He’d been in a coma for two days and he was comforting you. He’d almost died and you were too weak to be strong for your friend.
“I’m sorry for leaving you,” he said, “I’m sorry that you had to be the one I left behind. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that. I’m sorry for hurting you even if I’d do it again if it meant you were safe. It was scary and I’m sorry for doing that to you, no matter how important it was that I did it.”
His thumb caressed your hand and you bit back the tears that wanted to wail out to the world that you’d almost lost something that couldn’t be replaced. But the silence that fell was comforting, a soft and easy kind. One that didn’t need to be filled and his pulse was a balm soothing your raw panic.
And yet -
“Don’t leave me here alone. It’s your Sam calling,” you said, eyes on his. A small real, smile broke out on his face and he squeezed your hand.
Despite the bandages across his jaw, and the wince of pain as he shifted, you hadn’t seen someone look so beautiful.
“Don’t go where I can’t follow, wake up Mr. Frodo,” Eddie whispered and you beamed at him.
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4. Telling you to call them so they know you got home safe.
“For fuck’s sake,” you hissed, rubbing your temples as you watched Robin hop on top of a bar table to dance.
Eddie’s laughter hit your ear and you shivered at the warmth. “Come on Nov, she looks like she’s having fun,” he said, chest pressed against your back. Tucking his chin over your shoulder, you finally waved down the bartender.
“Can I have another club soda please?” You asked, handing her the money. She nodded, eyes drifting to Eddie and smiling.
“You two are a really cute couple,” she said, sliding the glass towards you.
Opening your mouth to correct her, Eddie beat you to it. “Thank you!” At your glance, he shrugged. “It’s easier to go along with.”
Something in your chest tightened at the thought but you shrugged. “Jesus, Eddie, can you bring her down? She’s going to end up falling and cracking her neck.”
Eddie sighed, his warm hand coming up to squeeze your waist. “We really need to stop promising to be the babysitters,” he said, lips brushing against your temple before leaving to drag a protesting Robin off the sticky table.
“Hey,” a guy to your left said, his hair long and pin straight.
You turned to him, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to make it look like you were welcoming any type of flirting. Eddie already had to shove a creep with a persistent attitude off of Nancy. “Hi,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said, a little too quiet for the noise level inside, “but is that the lead singer of Corroded Coffin?”
Relief flooded through you and your shoulders dropped. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Holy shit, I saw his band last month when he was the opening act for Riot Act. I’m a big fan! They’ve got a great sound,” he said awed. “Sorry! I’m Jack.”
“Hey, I’m-”
“-here with someone,” Eddie’s voice floated over your shoulder and towards the straightening man on the stool.
A little surprised by Eddie’s furrowed expression, and practically thrown by the small ember of something in your spine at his serious tone, you placed a hand on his and smiled up at him. “This is Jack, he’s a fan of Corroded Coffin’s.”
Eddie’s expression completely transformed, a wide smile overtaking the sharp look in his eyes. “Oh man, thanks! Sorry, you know how these bars can get.”
“Yeah,” Jack said, brightening, “totally! Are you guys going to be playing somewhere else soon? I heard a few people say you might be going to Sold Out in Indianapolis!”
Eddie rubbed the back of his neck and you could tell he was flustered by the pink tinge to his neck. “We are! We’re going to be there for a few weekends for the next couple months. We start sometime in the summer. Still ironing out a few details.”
“That’s great! I’m sorry for asking but, do you mind signing something for me?” Jack asked, excitement growing his eyes.
Both of you thrown, you felt your own giddiness build in your chest. “He’d love to,” you answered for a stunned Eddie. “In fact, the entire band is here tonight. You’ll have to excuse everyone else – we’re the designated drivers. They might be a little drunk.”
At the promise of more autographs, Jack straightened. “Holy shit, yeah that’d be amazing. Thank you so much,” he stammered, grabbing a clear napkin from behind the bar and pulling a pen from his coat. “My friends are going to shit themselves.”
You squeezed Eddie’s hand when you saw it trembling as he signed with a flourish. Shooting you a grateful look, he walked Jack over to where Jeff and Gareth were chanting chug, chug, chug! at a teetering Liam.
Jesus, you sighed, rolling your eyes when Jeff’s excited hand swatted too close to Liam and he started coughing up the beer.
Turning back to your drink, you didn’t wait long before you felt Eddie’s palm at your lower back. “Well, that happened.”
Not missing a beat, you turned with a crumpled napkin and wide eyes. “Oh my God, sir, would you autograph my napkin too?”
Eddie laughed, shaking his head, and he shoved your shoulder. “Shut up,” he grumbled, motioning to the bartender for his own club soda. “You brat.”
Grinning, you bumped his shoulder with your own. “I’m glad I’ll be able to say I knew you when you were a nerdy freshman.”
“I’m still that nerdy freshman,” he huffed, “people just actually like my singing now.”
The band on stage switched to a fast paced song and the bar emptied a little as people flew to the dance floor. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. They really deserved this. You crossed your fingers beneath the bar and hoped it was just the beginning.
“To be fair, I always liked your singing,” you told him, poking his chest. Eddie’s eyes shifted and you felt the same tightening again.
His eyes dropped back to yours, something new swimming in them, and your breath stuttered in your lungs. “I know you have,” he said, gaze darting across your face. “You’ve always been there for me.”
Not able to take the pressure in your sternum, you huffed. “And don’t forget that when you’re rich and famous, okay? I want a fancy BMW so I can taunt Steve with it.”
Eddie threw his head back and laughed. Instead of breaking the spell, your eyes drifted to his neck and you briefly thought about how appealing the muscles there were. Straightening so quickly that your spine audible snapped, you swallowed nervously.
What the fuck was that?
The look Eddie shot your way let you know that he’d caught whatever that was. Your mind raced in a thousand different directions but before you could choose a route to go down, a body pressed itself into your side.
“You guys, Jonathan puked,” Gareth said, matter of fact. “It was funny but then Steve started gagging.”
Liam joined in next, his eyes glazed. “Steve said he’s a sy-symp- sympat-” his face scrunched together when he realized he wasn’t getting the word out.
“He’s a sympathy puker?” You guessed, already knowing Steve wasn’t the best around puke. He was always the first domino to fall during hangover mornings.
“Ugh, you’re so smart,” Jeff complimented.
Brows rising, you elbowed Eddie. “Time to corral?” Sighing, Eddie nodded.
“Grab as many as you can and shove them into the right car,” he said, hands coming out to grab his bandmates before they could drift off. “Meet outside in ten?”
“Minutes?” You asked incredulously. “It’s going to take at least that long to get Steve to stop gagging.”
“Bet you five I can get them out in fifteen.”
Rolling your eyes, you slapped his outstretched hand. “That’s an easy win.”
And sure enough, you leaned against Steve’s car with an amused expression as Eddie tried for the fourth time to load Jeff into his van. You glanced at Robin, who was talking animatedly with Gareth about what sounded like cheese fries. A blur in the corner of your eye caught your attention and you watched Liam open the passenger door and pass Jonathan his joint.
“Jesus,” Eddie groaned, “okay you win, please, just-” he waved his hand towards your friends.
“Robin get in the car we have to go now,” you said firmly, knowing she was the hardest to convince but the one everyone would follow once she was.
Her expression morphed into indignation. “Gareth thinks bacon on fries is better than cheese! That’s – that’s treason.”
“Because it is better!” He said, clutching his head.
“Alright you two, you’re both right, how about that?” You turned to Gareth and glared until he simpered off towards Eddie without a backwards glance. “And you, into the car.”
“But-”
“I’ll tell everyone what you’re hiding in the box at the back of your closet,” you threatened. She paled and tripped in her hurry to the car. She knocked into a sleeping Nancy, who grunted when she landed in the middle seat with a loud thump.
“Byers, get your ass in gear or I’m telling Joyce!”
A sheepish Jonathan crawled into the car, jostling Robin who cried out and accidentally smacked a snoring Steve in the passenger seat. You quickly shut the door and locked them in. With a flourish, you took your bow and Eddie clapped. “I admit defeat o’great knight.”
“Knight in shining armor, please,” you clarified.
“Of course, of course.”
“You okay with your lot?” You asked, nodding to where Liam was starting to look a little green.
Eddie snorted. “Yeah, they’ll be fine. What about you?”
“Jonathan and Nancy live nearby, the rest of us are crashing at Steve’s. Like the good ol’ days,” you joked, shivering when a sudden cold gust of air blew your hair into your eyes.
A pair of hands came up to your arms, rubbing some warmth into them and you smiled. “Lucky, Gareth and Liam live in completely different directions,” he said with a roll of his eyes. You pointed to car behind him.
“You should lock them in before one makes a break for it,” you said, yawning and checking the time. Without giving you time to think, Eddie pulled you into a tight hug. Never needing a reason, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed just as tightly back. His cold nose nudged your temple, inhaling deeply and you lean your face against his chest. His heartbeat fast and yours quickly matched its pace. With a soft sigh, Eddie let you go.
“Hey, but seriously, I’m so happy everyone else is finally seeing what I always did,” you told him, pinching one of his cheeks for levity.
Instead, he smiled at you softly. A small, little shy smile that made your heart flip. “Yeah?” His eyes softened, the brown deepening with his gaze. You felt your chest tighten painfully this time. Turning back to hop into your car, you rolled the window down and Eddie leaned into your space.
“Don’t let it get to your big head.” Eddie smiled at your barb but his eyes trailed down your face, the look in his gaze different. You leaned back to examine it but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “What?” His eyes darted back up to yours and it clicked. It looked like he knew something you didn’t.
A little surprised at what he saw there, he shook his head. “Nothing, nothing, see you tomorrow at work?” That sounded like a diversion. You had a full shift tomorrow but he was on towards the end at closing.
“Yeah,” you said, not sure you wanted to let go of this. As if sensing it, he surged forward to press a kiss to your cheek and you blinked, surprised.
“Drive home safe, call me when you get there, okay?” He said. “Leave a message if I’m not home yet. I won’t be able to sleep if I think you’re dead in a ditch somewhere.”
That, in the end, got a smile out of you. “Who would’ve thought you and Harrington would turn into the mothers of this ragtag group?”
“Hey,” he said, hands on his hips in a clear imitation of Steve, “you love it.”
“Yeah,” you said, starting your car and rolling up your window, “I do!”
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5. Bringing you something just because it reminded them of you.
“Fuuuck,” you squawked, feet sliding out from under you. Bracing for the impact, your eyes flew open when Eddie’s hands slide through your underarms and steadied you. He pulled you up, your knees aching, and you both stilled.
“That…would’ve been bad,” you said quietly, looking down at the wet pavement outside the Wheeler’s house. Eddie’s eyes were wide, his gaze on the puddles.
“Note to self, slippery driveways might take down the mighty Nova but demobats are a walk in the park,” Eddie said, grinning when you whacked him.
“Ugh, they’re still outside,” Dustin shouted from the doorway, “come on, we’re taking a vote on which movie to watch first.”
Despite his teasing, you felt Eddie’s hand on your back – steady – as you followed Dustin towards the basement. Everyone was scattered, a few conversations going on at once. The party was back for the summer from college and, as tradition stated, a movie night was set on the first weekend.
El jumped up, grinning, and threw her arms around you. “Oh, hello,” you said, squeezing her tightly, “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you,” she said into your shoulder, words muffled. You glanced up to see Max tucked into Eddie’s embrace. He smiled when they swapped and Max’s grip bruised you. Kissing her temple, you watched them tumble back onto the first couch – Mike and Lucas waving at you both.
You made to step towards a beaming Will when a hand on your elbow stopped you. “Hey, I forgot to give this to you yesterday at work,” Eddie said, hand ruffling around in bag. He grinned after a moment, pulling it out triumphantly. A small drawstring bag swung wildly for a moment before coming to a stop. The black suede looked soft and lumpy.
“We just started that gig out at Sold Out last week and we were looking for something to eat before we drove back. I saw this in the window of a store and thought of you,” Eddie said, making your heart flip. You reached for the bag, a gold necklace spilling out the mouth.
“It’s a sunflower,” you said, voice faint, thumb tracing the small blooming flower.
Eddie nodded, already rooting in his bag for something else. “You said that was Barb’s favorite flower, right?” Suddenly, it felt like the entire room had gone quiet.
“It was,” Nancy said, leaning over your shoulder to look at the pendant. “She loved them, her room was covered.” An old memory flashed through your mind.
You’d met Barb when you were six, in kindergarten. She’d shared her chocolate with you and picked you as a partner for nap time. She had a sweet smile and gave great hugs. She was good and kind, and you’d been angry at the world for taking her. For a lot of things.
“Sunflowers symbolize friendship. But really, they just make me smile.”
For a moment, just a brief second, you could hear her light laughter echo within your memory. Nancy’s soft smile let you know that you weren’t alone.
“I thought you’d like it,” he said with a smile and you knew he was thinking of the tulips you’d both left at Chrissy’s grave last week. “This way you can have her close by.”
Nancy helped you clasp it around your neck and smiled down at you. Sound filtered back in as she grunted and turned to the boys. “Don’t throw the remote!”
You scrambled to stand before Eddie could find a seat, your had grabbing his. He stilled, looking back at you – the unasked question on his lips. Taking a step forward for a hug, for a second time within a span of five minutes, you tripped on a forgotten figurine. Eddie cradled you to him, staggered, but steady.
“Okay, I stand corrected. Rainy driveways and dnd figurines,” he joked, the smile from his gaze fading when he realized how close you’d landed.
The world moved around you both in a blur. This moment, you in his arms, had happened hundreds of times. You’d known Eddie for years, both of you were affectionate people. But this…was different. Time slowed and you felt Eddie’s pulse ricochet within your own, his lips parting in surprise. You eyes darted down to the movement, his lips chapped and in this bubble you’d created – a thought crossed your mind.
You wanted to press yours to his. You wanted to press every part of you against his.
Then, quickly, a second thought rose from your subconscious.
This wasn’t the first time you’d wanted to kiss him. It wasn’t the first time that your heart felt like it would burst at the sight of him. You liked the way your skin felt electrified at his touch. The way he always seemed to focus on you. The way you both always gravitated towards each other, like sunflowers bending towards the sun. Your eyes dipped lower and you felt a lump form in your throat. The way…you were dying to bite into that tattoo on his neck. The way you wondered if he’d squirm against you. If he’d push you into the-
Holy fucking shit, you loved Eddie. You were in love with Eddie. Your best friend. How the fuck had you been so blind?
Stumbling, you staggered back from his touch – not able to think clearly with him so close. You ripped your arms away from him and greedily sucked in air.
“What’s wrong?” Eleven asked you, realizing you were all but hyperventilating.
Pulse roaring in your ears, you didn’t know what to say. Dumbstruck, your limbs went numb as you finally met Eddie’s worried eyes. He stilled at the sight of your expression and suddenly the rug was pulled completely out from under you because he knew. The look in his eyes was one of complete and total understanding.
And you knew that he knew - and he knew that you knew that he knew.
Your mind flashed back to the moment outside the bar a few months ago. That look in his eyes. The way he’d been acting strange recently. He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. Struck, you’d honestly be less shocked if the ground opened up and Vecna swallowed you whole.
His own panic flooding his face, he took a step forward.
“No!” You shouted, a touch too loud, your soul flying out your body and staring down at the situation with terror.
“Wait, just wait,” Eddie stammered, hands raised like he was approaching a scared animal. “Let’s talk about it.”
“Oh shit,” you heard Dustin mutter. The rest of room went silent.
Robin groaned, a soft thump following. “Oh no, this isn’t good.”
“Right now?” Steve hissed. “What the hell changed?”
“What the hell is happening?” Lucas grumbled.
Max sighed. “She just realized she’s in love with him.”
Eleven’s eyes widened and Lucas frowned. “Congratulations on being the last one to find out,” he said and somehow that made it worse. Your face crumpled and everyone’s glare turned towards him.
“Jesus Sinclair, have you heard of tact?”
Were you the absolute last person to know?
He was your best friend – you couldn’t, this would ruin everything. Oh God, what if he’d known and he never said anything because he didn’t feel the same? What if he did? You honestly didn’t know which was scarier.
As your friends descended into chaos, you glanced back at Eddie and found him frozen too. Overwhelmed and feeling like you’d been knocked around the ring a few times, you let your flight instinct take over. Taking the stairs two at a time, you were at the basement door in seconds.
Chaos erupted behind you.
You were at the door and fucking Christ, you couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t you breathe? Was the ground shaking?
“Stay here,” you heard Eddie bark at everyone, his had tone not leaving any room for argument. Despite it all, you felt the zing of something travel down your spine at the sound of it. Before you could even analyze it for what it was, it triggered another fresh wave of panic.
You knew he’d be close behind, but you were used to running for your life at this point. Practically racing down the driveway, you scrambled into your car and slammed the door shut. Your first mistake was trying to still your shaking hand to get it into the ignition.
A body half-slammed into your passenger door and you screamed, terror taking over your rational side for a moment.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! The fucking grass is wet and I slipped,” Eddie said, backing up with his palms up. “Nova, please, don’t go. Not like this. I-”
“Nope!” You said, feeling like a stupid child but you weren’t able to process right now. You’d known Eddie since you were fourteen. That was a decade. How the fuck had you been so blind? “I can’t – Eddie, I can’t! Just give me a second, okay? I need – I need to process. Alone.”
The world felt like it was crumbling. Like you were back in the hell hole, clinging to Steve and Eddie for balance as the ground shook beneath you. Oh God, this was going change everything.
Your second mistake was turning to look at him. The knot in your chest tightened beyond belief at the sight of the heartbreak in his eyes. A flash of movement brought your attention to the several heads peeking out from the windows. Eddie’s head whipped around and you could feel his glare from where you sat. “Jesus Christ, does anyone know what privacy means?” You knew it was bad when you couldn’t even muster up a smile.
“Nov…”
Like a cornered animal, you felt tears well up. “Please. I’m sorry. Please Eddie, please.” Panic clawed up your throat, threatening to pull you under. Black dots danced across your vision.
He smiled and your heart broke at the emptiness in it. “Yeah, Nov, it’s okay. I’ll go back inside, just- take a few deep breaths before you go. Okay? Don’t drive like this. Just, deep breathing, remember?”
You slammed your eyes shut; you didn’t have the strength to look at him anymore. You nodded, taking an unsteady deep inhale. How was it possible that you were the one running and he was still thinking of you?
Not sure how long you sat there but by the time you opened your eyes, your tremor had settled and Eddie was gone. Taking a deep breath, you turned your car on and peeled away from the Wheeler house.
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It took Robin and Steve exactly ten hours before they showed up on your doorstep.
“I know you’re in there asshole, open up!” Robin screamed.
Jesus. You flung the door open and glared. “I have neighbors.”
“You look like shit,” Robin said, matter a fact, with a small smile on her face. You groaned, dropping your face into your palms and Steve sighed.
“For fuck’s sake Robin, it hasn’t even been a day,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the couch.
Not one to ever be excluded, Robin smushed herself next to you. Her thigh pressed against yours and you found yourself stuck between your two friends – friends you hadn’t ever been good at lying to.
“I know why you’re here,” you started.
Robin snorted. “Well duh, what’d you think? That we got up at nine in the morning to come wish you a good morning? Even Dingus knows better than that.”
Biting back a laugh at her quick retort, you caught Steve’s exasperated glance and nearly broke. “Do not enable the behavior,” he hissed. “How do you feel?”
What a loaded question.
“I feel a little numb. Sort of, like, if I don’t acknowledge this is happening then it isn’t,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, “which, I guess, is what got us both into this mess in the first place.”
Robin’s expression softened and you sighed. “I’m just…I feel embarrassed mostly. I didn’t mean to be so dramatic – I just…I was so overwhelmed and it felt like I was drowning. You were all staring at us and I couldn’t think – I couldn’t breathe.”
“Hey, give yourself some credit,” Robin said, “you needed space and time and you asked for it. Everyone needs to understand that boundary.”
“Except for you two,” you joked weakly.
Robin huffed, waving a hand in the air. “We don’t have boundaries-”
“-we should though-” Steve muttered.
“-once you’re tortured by Russians together, you’re bonded for life,” Robin continued, ignoring Steve’s scrunched expression.
They started to bicker good-naturedly and your mind drifted to Eddie. You felt horrible but it didn’t override your need to crawl under the covers and hide yourself from the world. The one question on your mind refused to be put to rest.
“How could I have been so blind?” You wondered, not realizing you’d said it out loud until Robin leaned some of her weight onto you.
Steve pulled himself closed to the edge so he could turn to look at you. His gaze was gentle, eyes on you. “I mean this genuinely with no judgement, but how could you not have noticed?”
You threw your hands out, Robin dodging your left one expertly. “I don’t know! I think I knew on some level and just ignored it? Its…scary, feelings this big for someone who’s your best friend. I’m so scared, I don’t want to lose him,” you admitted quietly. Steve sighed and you glanced at him. “When did you guys know?”
Steve frowned but Robin spoke first. “To be fair, I don’t think Eddie knew right away either. At least not that I could see and we’ve known each other for a while now too. I realized sophomore year,” she said. “You always had those damn starbursts around. I know your favorites are the red ones because Dustin tried to take one from your stash and you almost chewed his hand off.”
A pile of starbursts were tossed onto your kitchen counter now. “So?” You asked, confused at the connection.
“They’re Eddie’s favorites too and you always let him grab them. I don’t think he even knows you do that, to this day. Let’s not forget how any time either of you ever went on a date or, God forbid, had a relationship, the other was always in a constant mood.”
Before that could sink in, Steve stirred. “I realized when he’d come to visit you at Scoops. Remember when I’d smushed that sundae into you. We were waiting on Robin to come back, worried about the Russians and you’d insisted on staying to help us. You had finally decided I was worthy and we were laughing about something stupid Dustin had said.”
You knew what moment he was talking about – you’d forgotten to call Eddie and tell him you didn’t need a ride home anymore. He’d arrived, on time as always, and walked in on you and Steve wrestling over some spilled ice cream.
“I turned with your ice cream too fast and hit your chin. I was trying to clean it off but you’d taken a handful and shoved it down my uniform. Dustin was practically on the floor laughing and I was chasing you with the bowl. Eddie walked in and instantly hated me. I knew he thought I was flirting with you, which I wasn’t. It was something in the way he looked at me. He wasn’t mad that he thought I liked you, he was mad because he thought I wasn’t worth your time – you know? He wasn’t even jealous, just protective,” he said with a shrug. “With you, it took a while, I think. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same for some time. Not until I knew you better.”
“Oh,” you said, throat dry. “Did everyone know but me?”
Steve bumped your shoulder amicably. “Maybe. It’s obvious to everyone now but it’s because it’s like you’re two magnets. The second the other is in the vicinity, your gravitate together. It’s…natural, almost. Something you’d expect,” he nodded, blinking down at you. “Does that make sense?”
“No,” you said petulantly at the same time Robin nodded.
Rolling her eyes, she grasped your hands and squeezed them. It was reminiscent of that moment in the emergency room, her eyes wide but determined.
“What do you want to do about it?”
You shook your head. “Too big a question.”
Steve took over. “Okay…how do you feel? You can love him as your friend, or be in love with him as a person, but if you don’t want to risk that – it’s up to you. We can have our own opinions-”
“-that you two need to get your heads out of your asses-” Robin said, expression furrowing.
“-but,” he said, shooting her a look, “it’s your choice.”
Feeling like your chest would explode with it, you abruptly stood, needing the space to pace a hole in your carpet. Chewing on your nail, you flung another hand in the air and frowned. “Of course I love him, how could I not? He’s…he’s Eddie. He’s my Eddie. Sometimes, at night, before going to bed I think about it you know. I think about how we were too close to be just best friends. We did things that went far past platonic and it was addicting. I – fuck. I love him. I love him.”
Shoving Steve’s hand off her shoulder, Robin stood, her arms coming down to your shoulders and shaking you. “So, I ask again, what do you want to do about it?”
You started to shake your head but she shut it down. “No, enough with this. You’re the bravest of us all. What do you want to do about it?”
“Robin-”
She waved a hand in Steve’s direction, her blue eyes turning sharp. “Say it.”
The knot in your chest choked you as you swallowed nervously. You wrung your hands together but you knew. You didn’t feel unsettled and panicked because you didn’t want him – you felt off kilter because he wasn’t here. You’d run away when you really wanted to just be with him. You’d hurt the one person you never wanted to hurt.
“I want – I want to tell him. I need to tell him!” You said, spine straightening.
Robin smiled. “There she is.”
“Oh my God,” you said, hands coming up to your face. “I just ran away; he must be freaking out.”
Steve stood, grabbing a yellow starburst. “He was a little…freaked out.”
Guilt flooded you as Robin glared at him.
“Shit, I need to talk to him. Right now. Where’re my shoes? I need to go!” You ran around your living room, frantically looking for your converse.
How the fuck could you have just left him behind? Without telling him – without saying the words. Suddenly, you remembered.
“Fuck! He’s in Indianapolis,” you said, slumping into a nearby chair, “he won’t be back until Sunday night.”
Steve frowned, his hands inching towards a red starburst and you shot him a glare.
“I’m distressed but not dead, get your hands off the red ones,” you snapped.
Robin laughed, knowing glint in her eyes and she grabbed a set of keys from your front table. “You have a fucking car and Indianapolis is three hours away, not across the country. Get what you need and let’s go.”
.
“Get off, you’re squishing me!” Max hissed at Lucas.
“Where do you want me to go? It’s a small car!”
“Will you two shut up?” Dustin snapped.
Robin sighed from the passenger seat and you took the same left as Steve did ahead of you. “You know, I don’t know why you all thought it’d be fun to make this into a group road trip,” she sighed, “you really don’t know how to mind your business!”
You snorted at the hypocrisy of the situation and she shot you a look. Shutting up, you made sure to stay behind the maroon BMW.
“We can’t miss this,” Dustin stressed, “he’s been in love with her for the entire time I’ve known him. I can’t deal with all the pining anymore. I get to see this through!”
You glared at him through the mirror. “We are not a soap opera to entertain yourself with,” you snapped.
By the time you’d made it out to your car, the rest of the party had managed to bike to your apartment with their own nosy agendas. Once they’d found out you were going to drive down to Eddie’s gig, they climbed into your cars – not leaving room for arguing. Because God forbid any of you do something without the entire party knowing.
“You probably won’t even be let in, this is a twenty one or older bar. As in, where they serve alcohol.”
“So?”
Robin shifted around to glare at them. “As in, you’re all not twenty-one yet?”
“Robin, please, what do you take us for? Rookies?” Dustin asked, his brow quirking. “I’m basically Corroded Coffin’s manager-”
“-you’re really not,” you said, thinking of Charlie, Gareth’s cousin who handled all the gigs and scheduling.
“-and I’ve got passes to all their gigs, it’ll be easy.”
Sharing a look with Robin, she shrugged. “Whatever, don’t whine about it to me when you’ve got to stay in the car the whole time.”
Not twenty minutes later, you both rolled your eyes at Dustin’s smug look as the bouncer let them all through with bright green bands indicating they couldn’t be served alcohol.
“Shut up,” Robin hissed.
“What time is it?” You asked, grabbing Steve’s wrist. “Shit, they go on soon – I think I can still catch them backstage.”
“Go, go!” Robin urged, shoving you forward.
Shouldering your way through the crowd, you were astounded at how packed the bar was. Determined, you kept slipping through the restless horde of people. You’d gotten halfway through when a loud strum stopped you. The crowd came alive, cheering and screaming as Eddie sauntered on stage.
Your heart dropped at the sight of the bags under his eyes. “Hello Indianapolis! How are you all tonight?”
The crowd went wild and you were jostled forward, right towards the front. Eddie was a few feet away and you sighed. Of course.
The band went through with introducing themselves, like they always did before starting, and you resigned yourself to catching him after their set. You watched Eddie swing his guitar over his shoulder, adjusting the strap. You don’t know how, in the sheer amount of people in the crowd, but as his eyes swept across the front row – they zeroed in on you.
Surprised, you blinked up at him. His answering grin was so wide, it cracked your heart further. Your breath rushed right out your lungs. Frozen, you stared up at him, and wondered how you could have ever been so blind as to not notice the way your heart always leapt around him. It rattled around in your ribcage, like a police siren. Him, we want him, it shouted at you, grinning up at you when you tried to knock it back into place.
I know, I know we do, you told it.
Of course you loved him, it was Eddie. How could you ever have thought otherwise? You wanted his friendship, because that was the most important part, but you wanted more. You’d always wanted more and you weren’t going to let fear keep you from reaching for it.
Eyes not leaving yours, he grabbed the mic again. “So, I have someone important in the audience today – someone who means a lot to me. She hasn’t heard our newest cover yet but, it’s one of her favorite songs. I’ll admit, it’s never been one of mine but I changed it around a little for her and hope you all like it too.”
Raising your brows at the first few notes, you couldn’t keep your delirious laugh in when you heard him start singing.
“Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth.”
Eddie’s voice lowered as he rasped out the vowels, the drums transforming the song entirely.
You watched Eddie transform, he always put his entire being into the performance and you loved watching him relish in it. Bobbing your head to the song, you danced alongside the three girls to your left.
Catching his eyes towards the end, he grinned as he inhaled.
“In this world, we're just beginnin'
To understand the miracle of livin'
Baby, I was afraid before
But I'm not afraid anymore.”
A smile made it’s way onto your face as you shook your head and you knew he’d caught it by his laugh. Staying right in the middle, with the crowd’s energy pulsing around you, you sat through the entire set.
As Metallica rung through the speakers, you knew it was their closing song. Eddie nodded towards the side door and you started to make your way there.
The guard at the door stood at your approach but the door behind him opened in time for you to catch Charlie’s smile. “She’s good,” she told him, “whenever you see her around this summer, let her through. She’s with Munson.”
The burly guard smiled then. “Oh, you’re his girl? Don’t worry, I never forget a face.” He waved you through and you knew she could read the mild embarrassment in your eyes.
“Don’t worry, I won’t pry,” she said, elbowing you, “but I’m happy for you two. Anyone with eyes can tell you’re gone on each other.”
Right.
“I’ve got to help them pack but you’ve been to the green room in the back – he’ll come by when they’re done.”
Thanking her, you stumbled your way there – nerves finally taking over you. You should’ve thought about what to say – how to say it. God, why did you feel so awkward? You’d fought monsters from another dimension but you couldn’t tell your best friend that you loved him?
The door suddenly burst open and Eddie came in, guitar still in hand and hair stuck to his skin. “Hey you,” you said, standing from the velvet couch. “You were amazing.”
“Yeah?” Eddie said hopefully, putting the familiar guitar down and turning his full attention to you. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”
“There was a full house, I – I’m so happy for you guys. Are you booked full for tomorrow night too?” You asked despite knowing the answer. You needed a moment, just a brief moment of normalcy before you flung yourself off the metaphorical cliff.
Eddie nodded, a ghost of a smile flashing across his face. He knew. He knew that you knew that he knew. Because of course he did. But he was letting you take this at your pace, because Eddie never did anything you didn’t want to. He always let you lead.
He opened his mouth, no doubt ready to let you distract yourself, but you were done with the pretenses.
“Fuck it,” you said, surging forward. A flash of surprise was the last thing you saw before you slammed Eddie into the wall and pressed your lips to his.
Finally! Your heart sang, finally, we’re home.
Eddie took a second but after a beat he met you just as fiercely. His grip was bruising on your waist, his other hand coming up to the back of your neck. Not giving him a chance to take the lead from you, you ran your fingers through his hair and pulled his head back. He moaned and the sound shot straight to your stomach. Butterflies in full force, you leaned back, out of breath and saw the dazed look in his eyes.
“Nova,” he begged, unseeing eyes darting around your face. “Nova.”
“I know,” you said, right before you dove back in and pressed open mouth kisses to his neck. And then, after all these years, you finally sunk your teeth into the meaty part of his neck. Right at the base of the skull tattoo. Eddie jerked, as if electrocuted, and shoved you back. Stumbling, you let him cradle your jaw, the other lowering you onto the couch.
Needing more, you whimpered and Eddie grinned. His knee pushed up between your legs and the pressure was amazing. Your hips stuttered, bumping into his and you both hissed. His teeth worried the sensitive skin of your neck and you whined as he lapped at the bruise he left.
“Eddie,” you gasped, “Eddie, please.”
His forehead came down to your shoulder, his chest heaving like he’d run a marathon, and you both just breathed the other in. At your nudging, he dropped his weight onto you and you jerked at the hardness you felt by your hip.
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding at all sorry. “The amount of adrenaline going through me right now-”
“It’s okay,” you assured him, hand drifting down his side but Eddie caught it. “I can help,” you offered. Jesus, you wanted to help if the pressure between your legs was any indication. Eddie’s face softened, his eyes drifting down your face and he groaned.
“I want that too but, maybe we should talk first? Before going past the no return point?”
You blinked. “Munson, I’m past the no return point,” you said, matter of fact. And it was true. There was no going back now.
His answering smile blinded you and you heart threatened to burst at the happiness you found there. “Yeah?” He asked, tone a little uneven.
You nodded, fingers trailing down his face. Eddie lifted himself off you, sitting on the couch and pulling you into his lap. “Yeah, me too.”
“When did you realize? And why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, ripping the band aid off.
“Because I was scared,” he admitted, “I...think I’ve always loved you. From that moment in the hallway when you chased away Tommy and his gang of assholes. You took one look at me and I think I was yours. I didn’t want to ruin what we had but there were times where I’d catch us in moments and I thought yeah, this could work. I wanted it so badly but I didn’t want to lose you. Then, years later, I realized you felt it too. I just, wanted you to get there on your own. I never wanted you to feel like you had no choice or no out. You’ll always have me, in any form you want me.”
Your heart melted. “You’re killing me,” you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder.
Eddie laughed, his chest rumbling with it. “I’m sorry but, it’s the truth.”
“I know I’ve said it before but, I love you Eddie. How could I not?” You said, cradling his jaw in your hand.
Eddie pressed his lips to yours, eyes suspiciously red, and you decided to be mature enough and not tease him.
“Hey, you didn’t answer the first question. When did you really realize?”
“To be fair, it took me a while. Everyone knew I hated Mason,” he said and you thought back to your first boyfriend who’d moved to Texas your junior year, “which made the guys tease the shit out of me but I think I fully realized it for our senior prom. I was so bummed that you were going off to college and I was stuck in Hawkins. Then, you managed to blackmail Higgins into letting me go-”
“I didn’t blackmail him, I just asked,” you laughed.
“-I knew you knew I was upset and I could tell you wanted to cheer me up. But then you did that stupid promposal-”
“Hey!”
“And you had that big bouquet of daisies. And it hit me like a fucking truck, I’m not going to lie. That’s why – I don’t blame you. It was a lot,” he said, his fingers trailing down your cheek. “We’d been friends for years at that point. It was both shocking and stupidly obvious. How could I not have realized? It took you, standing in that meadow behind my old trailer, that massive glitter poster and those flowers. It was like…lightning. One moment I was totally oblivious and then the next, I just knew.”
“Is that why you never dated anyone after that? I thought you were hung up on Joan,” you said, thinking back on the girl he dated through high school.
He smiled, looking down at you. “No, I’ve always been yours. You’re branded on my soul, Supernova. From that first moment in that old gross hallway.”
“How did you know that I felt the same? I didn’t even know.”
Your heart sung, breath completely stolen at the look he gave you. “I mean, I didn’t know-” You leaned back to shoot him a look and he snorted. “There wasn’t an exact moment! After you went to Indie State and we’d hang out there were just small moments, I promise. Like, how you’d wait up for my call when I got home after visiting you. Or, how you stayed up all night to help me study for my finals – like two years in a row. Or that time that I caught the flu and you hit every pharmacy in Indiana getting me what I needed. Or the way Wayne just downright loves you – there’s no competition. You’re his favorite.”
“Because I bring him baked goods,” you said, laughing.
Eddie smiled. “Yeah, but he’s always loved you because you care. You just – you do all these little things and I didn’t notice until I did. I don’t know.”
You mulled that over and realized he was right. The way Eddie would steer you away from sharp corners, or always made sure you walked on the opposite side of the curb. How he always knew your order or how you liked you take your coffee. You flashed back to his broken body and how you’d snapped and lost it. How he’d only thought of making sure you were okay when he woke up.
In hindsight, you realized, he was right. It wasn’t one big moment. It was a lot of little ones.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get there,” you whispered, thumb tracing his bottom lip, “I’m sorry for leaving you at the Wheeler’s house. I should’ve been braver.”
“You are brave,” he whispered back, “I knew you just needed time. Besides, I was going to give you a week before I hunted you down.”
Laughing, you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, the other played with his necklace. “Yeah?” You felt suddenly shy.
“Yeah. Even if I was wrong and you didn’t feel the same way,” he shrugged, “I wasn’t scared enough to let you go. Romantic or platonic, Nova, we’re for life. Between Vecna and surviving ninth grade gym class together, we’re practically trauma bonded at this point.”
You laughed realizing you’d already had a lifetime of experiences with him. Eyes trailing down his content expression, you kissed the corner of his mouth. But a lifetime wasn’t enough. You wanted more. And you’d have more – you had all the time in the world.
“Yeah, Munson, we’re for life,” you agreed and leaned back down to kiss him.
Because hey, even he was right sometimes.
A/N: thank you all so much for the comments on my other fic, you cannot imagine what it means to me! This is the cover I was thinking of if anyone's interested.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months
Text
𝒮𝓉𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓈 𝓇ℯ𝓁𝒾ℯ𝒻
Masterlist
warnings- oral (m receiving) MDNI, 18+ dealer!rafe my love, reader is kinda a coquette girlie
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Race Cameron, the rich kid of outer banks, the man some feared, one of the biggest dealers on the island, had the most adorable, yet spoiled girlfriend. It was comical to see the two walking down the streets.
You in your pink sundress and pink heels, beaming at him while he had a stoic face and towered over you, holding multiple bags in his hands for you.
It was rare to see him smile with others,yet when he was with you, he had one on his face most of the time. He adored you as much as you adored him, if not more.
You were his girl, his baby.
“It’s only gonna take 5 seconds. Swear. We’ll be in and out.”
“Okay… you promise?”
“Promise.” He said, getting out the car. You got out as well and walked towards the house.
He knocked on the door. You’ve been through these things so many times with him, he didn’t want to leave you in the car alone, and you were safer with him anyways.
“Yo, it’s Rafe!” He shouted, knocking louder when they didn’t answer. Finally, a man opened the door.
“You got it?” He asked, but while he talked to Rafe his eyes drifted to you.
Rafe dug through his pockets, pulling out the bag and holding it in front of him, blocking his view.
The man looked through his own pockets, pulling out a wad of cash.
“She for sale too?” He joked, Rafes eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. He took the money and handed him the bag.
“Just take the shit and shut up.” He mumbled, counting it and walking away without another word, making sure to cover your body.
“Sorry.” Rafe mumbled when you both got into the car. He seemed more mad about it than you did.
“It’s fine, those assholes are always ugly, could never compete with you.” You said back, a small smile on your face, putting your hand on his bicep and leaning over to kiss his cheek.
He was still tense though, he always got bothered when someone commented on you.
He began to drive, and it was silent for a while until you interrupted the silence.
“You want me to help you?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What?”
You wordlessly moved your hands to his belt, sliding it off him and unbuckling it. He seemed relaxed, not so tense the second you put your hand on his cock, you felt it getting hard under your touch.
He let out a groan, fighting the urge to throw his head back. He focused on the road, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your head as he drove. Your mouth felt heavenly, he wanted to be buried like this.
He glanced at you every so often, when you swirled your tongue around him and he slightly bucked his hips, or when you tried to take him deeper.
He took a deep breath and restrained himself from cumming in your mouth while driving. But the second that car pulled up to the driveway, all attention was on you.
His hands pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, he moaned and threw his head back, savoring in the way you batted your eyes at him.
“Shit, baby, ‘m gonna cum.” He mumbled, he groaned and shot warm ropes down your throat, you swallowed every bit, releasing his cock with a ‘pop’ and a string of saliva following.
“Thank you, Angel.” He mumbled, you smiled and gave him another kiss on the cheek.
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twistedchatterbox · 1 year
Text
You feel a lot like love
summary: lovesick boys & living in their head rent-free... you have no idea what you do to them, or maybe you do. ft.Riddle, Leona, Azul, (Vil, Idia, and more later if this does well) tags: crushing, pre-established relationship & established relationship, off camera date/confessions, GN reader(you/your), lovesick boys 4 u, marriage mention, Azul gets insecure but the thought of you makes it better, no beta we overblot like men
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wordcount: 1200+ | Masterlist & Taglist
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• Riddle Roshearts
“Attention!” Riddle’s head snapped upwards, unaware that he had zoned out; thankfully so was the professor, who was calling out some other unfortunate student. As the red haired dormwarden went through the stages of shock, simply stunned and unable to process the realisation that he was not paying attention in class. However he quickly enough settled back into the regular plane of consciousness, taking note of his surroundings and re-checking his notes, eyes widening when he spots “[Name] Rosehearts”. Oh. Riddle gulped a silent, empty breath, staring at the string of words for what felt like the longest two seconds of his life. Oh, oh how was he supposed to confess to you? As his thoughts once again abandoned the class, deciding that you have become his favourite subject, Riddle silently agreed with his subconscious to give up on paying attention in class for one day; instead focusing on you. The smitten, heart adorned dormwarden slipped out a red notebook, a journal, opening an empty page, he started to write his heart and see if he could come up with a good confession, a well-phrased way to ask you out. He could beg his beating heart to stop running laps in his ribcage, yet his mind could not be further from it as he thought of you, his other half. The dorm of heartslabyul has never known greater paranoia. Ace was fully abiding by the rules, Cater has never been faster, Trey was mentally going through the list of possible scenarios. Why? It was quiet. Too quiet. Riddle was not around, he had ghosted Trey and Cater- even after they tried to report on rule breakers; something was clearly wrong, or at least upside down and slightly to the left. Deuce was studying diligently and holding his breath, almost as if Riddle was peering over his shoulder, hell that would at least prove the dormwarden was there! This, to the heartslabyul dorm, was the cruellest joke on earth. And then Riddle came back to the dorm, for the first time ever dressed in a more.. casual look. No way in hell was on campus, judging by the soft red cardigan and absence of the NRC uniform jacket, the button up replaced by a regular black shirt with a loose, circle collar that allowed his collarbone and neck to breathe. If anyone was to be honest, this did not look like Riddle at first glance. And then at second glance all hell silently broke loose, Trey’s glasses comically cracked, Cater dropped his phone, Deuce aced a test; Riddle was placing a kiss on your wrist, leading you slowly by the arm like a gentleman. He was on a date. Unmistakably so if the red roses you held as a bouquet were anything to go by. And once again, Riddle could not care or even try to pay attention to his surroundings; as if he would want to look elsewhere while he had you to focus on.
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• Leona Kingscholar
“Wakey wa– Oh fuck n-o, never mind.” Ruggie closed the door back before he even properly opened it. Leona barely huffed, rolling over to better cover your body with his; like a weighted blanket, the rumbling in his chest far too relaxing for you to stir awake. ..And yet, he couldn’t fall back asleep. Far too awake to keep his eyes closed, yet not enough to get out of bed; alone with his thoughts as he idly held your sleeping form. Sometimes he wondered if these types of mornings would end, or if he could wake up with you for the rest of his days, and he wishes he could smack himself upside down on the head for these loud what-ifs. As if he could sleep it off, feelings like these never really worked like that; it only used to make him angry, frustrated and madly irritable in the past, but now he felt scared at the possibilities those thoughts encapsulated. The ones that were possible were worse, making him wish. Wish.. it felt ridiculous to say such a word for someone so seemingly void of even the faintest hint of sunshine, Leona was not cheerful, surely not. But he was hopeful, then not; it stayed like that for a long while, until you decided to take these matters into your own hands, your considerably smaller, slender hands, soft compared to his own. He, unaware of his own, took your hands in his idle ones, feeling your palms and fingers. Leona closed his eyes as he nuzzled onto the crown of your head, comforted by the scent of your hair. In the back of his mind, his hands memorised the feel of your fingers, wondering what kind of ring you’d like best. The grumpy lion beastman mentally laughed as his morning pondering comes full circle, thinking about how you had his heart in your gentle hands.He smiled at the thought. He could be hopeful.
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• Azul Ashengrotto “Takoyaki!-” Azul’s eyes widened, looking at the idle pool of ink at the base of his quill. He clicked his tongue, expression shaping up to one of frustration, and near-disgust. Lifting up his hand, he made sure that the sleeves of his uniform were not ruined, carefully taking off the stained glove and leaving the office in oddly collected fashion. The feeling was.. off, making Floyd look down to try seeing his expression, albeit unsuccessful. Azul knew the eel twin would quickly put it together, putting more effort into his steps, walking faster with hopes of not running into you. He would cry if you discovered the power you held over him and his heart. The mere possibility had him gulp in hopes of swallowing his nerves, twisting the doorknob and locking himself in his room as the ever familiar and forever disgusting feeling of tears stung his eyes once again, and Azul half haphazardly hid himself under his blankets, ignoring all noise, blocking out his own thoughts, or at least trying to. And yet, the image of you in his mind is the exact thing that brings him comfort; he lays wondering what you’d think if he made a fool of himself in front of you, only to feel conflicted when he fails to imagine a negative reaction, he knows you wouldn’t berate him for a slip up. You never even call him out when he acts out of character, going as far as to cover up for him when he messes up big time, and you never ask for anything other than his time for it when you do. “Fair enough”, it was his response the first time, now he finds himself internally craving, damn-near begging for more; haa.. He would laugh had it been anyone else’s suffering, but he’s not sure if he can even feign dislike of the situation, only ever hoping for more chances to keep this silent arrangement going. He has always been quite greedy, capitalising your affection, time, attention. And forever caught off guard by you, it seems. He nearly jumps out of his own skin when his phone notifies him with a custom ring-tone, the one he set for you. Scrambling to grab his phone swiftly and reply fast, all he sees is “I’m going over to your dorm room. Floyd said something was up with you, are you ok?” -And before he can even start typing you send another; “I’m bringing some of your favourites do you want anything” Oh you really are simply wonderful. Azul knows he means every word, replying to your messages “Just you”.
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victoria-grimesss · 8 months
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2 ideas!
One, I loved your soap w secretary girlfriend! What about something similar for ghost and konig?
Two, what about a COD fic where the lights go out and you are stuck in the dark together? 😘 any character you want!
masterlist
->Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader & König x Fem!Reader
->Words: 0.8k
->A/N: MDNI! These are so fun to write!!! Also adding that wonderful 'idea of the stuck in the dark' fic to the list ;)
Sure, Ghost and König are both big strong military men. They're intimidating and stoic. Tall and broad but they both love their secretary girlfriend differently.
Ghost:
He's a brute. Large and broad and dark. How you became accustomed to him was more comical than anything. One complaint report landed on your desk for him to pick up, which he never did. His training methods were.. less than desirable.. which you can imagine just looking at him and how he just stands and stares, barking commands.
34 total complaint reports from the newest training group landed on your desk, making a rather annoying pile. None of the complaints would ever be resolved, Ghost's training method is foolproof. So, you walked down the hallway, papers in hand and a scowl on your face straight to that man. You slam the door open to the training yard your heels sounding extra loud. Your stocking covered legs and short skirt is the view of the century out here.
"Lieutenant Riley, your complaint papers have occupied an annoyingly large space on my desk. Please be better about picking them up from now on." You shoved the papers into his chest and storm away. Simon was putty in your hand from then on.
--
He would stand arms crossed in your doorway as you helped the others. Waiting patiently, his stare dark and unwavering.
He loves to watch you work. Your soft hands filing the papers expertly you know every little place where everything goes. He sees how the guy you're helping out checks out your ass as you stand. He shoulder checks him on his way out and then he stands at the front and center of your desk, and you look up through your lashes at him.
"Can I help you Simon?" You ask him in a sultry voice as you reapply your lipstick.
"Yea. I can think of a couple things."
--
Your panties are around one ankle, your heels barely hanging on to your feet as your legs are wrapped around his hips and he's ruthless with his thrusts. You're on lunch and he took you to the file room, you're on a dusty old desk that's only used for storage. All the contents thrown to the ground as Simon couldn't wait any longer to be inside you.
"Fuck, you love this yea? Fuckin you right here panties round your ankle you can hardly focus on me."
He's right your head has been long spinning and your eyes struggle to stay focused. He drives himself into your wet heat so hard and rough your hair has become a half up half down mess in the process.
"Grippin me so fuckin tight love, maybe I start coming down every day, feed you my cock on your break. Would you like that, look at me when I'm talking to you."
Simon frequently rips your stockings when he's gripping your thighs, especially when he cums.
"Fuckin hell love you're a fucking mess dripping on me like this, going to cum deep inside you then you'll go back and sit all pretty at your desk with me dripping out of you. You want that love? Yea you do."
Simon is a ruthless lover, he can be sweet too. When he's not confined by a 30-minute lunch break window of course.
--
König:
König is top dog, the big guy on the ground. So you see him often. You'll keep track of his appointments and meetings, bring him food and coffee when he works late nights and eventually, he invites you to share a meal with him. After that he keeps calling you back to his office.
König is an older guy and his knees aren't all that good honey so be a doll and help him out. You'll get down on yours and wrap those pretty lipstick coated lips around him and his mouth is watering just watching you take as much as you can.
He's found that he has a certain fixation for the lipstick you wear and sometimes requests you wear certain colors for him when you go down on him. He loves the way it leaves rings around his cock and he'll stroke your hair as he speaks to you.
"Taking me so well mein liebling, you see that last ring of lipstick you left on me? Let's try to get even lower this time, you're a good girl I believe in you."
You'll take as much as you can, and when he finally trains his little secretary to take all of him he cums as soon as your lips meet the base of him leaving red lip marks on his skin.
And when he's feeling especially needy he'll call you into his office and have you straddle him. He'll kiss your neck as he takes off your heels, he knows how expensive they are, I mean he did buy them for you, so he undoes the little straps with care and sets them on the floor.
He'll caress you with his big hands and have you ride his thigh hiking your skirt up your hips so he can rest his hands behind his head and watch you moan and sob on top of him.
"You look so beautiful like this mein liebling, you're leaving quite the wet spot on me this time. How many times should I make you cum like this before I let you ride me."
He's cruel when he wants to be but it's all in good fun. He's spoil you afterwards.
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randomshyperson · 7 months
Text
I Put A Spell on You - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #03
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Summary: After a tense week and a training session, Wanda finally had enough of your attitude.
Warnings: (+18), heavy smut with power dynamics,  brat tamer!Wanda and sub!Reader, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, a lot of teasing, blindfold and magical restrictions, enchanted strap, kind of rough,  implied enemies to lovers, some cursing | Words: 3.559k
A/N-> This is almost late. I totally forgot I had to post the stories.
General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
It was Natasha's idea, or at least it was a Black Widow kind of thing.
Most of what Wanda knew about it came from Steve's official report on the training, and the rest of the story came from Sam gossiping around the tower.
But in a nutshell: You had your vision temporarily impaired on the last mission, you were knocked out by it and it almost fucked everything up. Wanda would have thought that this was all it took to diminish your ego a bit, but instead, you and Nat had a weird widow's agreement about eliminating weaknesses or whatever, and this was adapted to your training.
The whole story was the reason you were training with a blindfold on. 
And don't let Natasha hear this, but you were an impressive fighter, even more than the older widow. Somehow you were more agile and stronger than Nat, and it was the kind of thing that made Clint remark worriedly about how much harder your widow training could have been and secretly made Wanda's heart beat faster.
But back to the point: Wanda shared very few training shifts with you. Steve and Nat found peaceful interaction between team members advantageous, so as you didn't get on so well, she had fewer training sessions in your company.
Well, that changed because you seemed determined to prove that you could block blows without seeing them.
"Wow, you're still here." It came out more ironic than she wanted, but Wanda was actually almost impressed. It had been nearly a month since the whole thing had started, and this training was coming after a particularly exhausting mission. She was just going for a quick session - so that the muscles wouldn't lose habit as Steve liked to say - when she found you in the empty tower gym. 
The eyes covered by a black cloth were an almost comical sight, or at least, Wanda assumed that finding it funny was what she was feeling, every time she saw your serious and concentrated form, sweating in the gym.
"Good evening, Wanda." You greeted her without looking at her, your head down. You were listening to her movement she assumed. 
Wanda muttered the greeting back, busy leaving her belongings on the bench and looking for a treadmill. But you cleared your throat. "Don't you want a real challenge?"
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and that would be you, of course."
You smile, your hands behind your body. Wanda thinks she likes the blindfold, it allows her to stare you brazenly, without you even knowing.
"I'm a legendary fighter, yes."
She has to laugh at how naturally you say that. She takes a quick look at the treadmill, and well, smashing your ass really does sound more interesting.
"Okay, real challenge, show me what you've got."
Wanda positions herself on the opposite side of the mat from you, and clears her throat when you remain static.
" Won't you take your shoes off?"
She grimaces softly. Yeah, your hearing was starting to impress. Sighing begrudgingly, she uses magic to make the shoes come off and float away, and before she even has a chance to speak, you do.
"No magic tricks." It sounds like a serious warning, rather than a request, and Wanda doesn't miss a chance to torment you.
"Oh, is that too much for a legendary fighter?" She mocks, but all she gets back is an easy chuckle that she isn't able to reciprocate because you adjust your training gloves and the movement is distracting enough.
After a moment, you get into position. "I'm ready."
"At last." She scoffs, stepping forward. 
Ultimately, she's impressed. And she almost begins to believe that maybe the cloth is fake - there's no chance that you can dodge absolutely all the blows she's so exhaustively learned with such ease. 
It doesn't take long for Wanda to start getting impatient, and for you to start smiling at her, in that smug way that makes her skin itch.
She makes a mistake, and it's enough for you to knock her to the ground.
"Again." You say, standing next to her, equally out of breath but without a scratch. Wanda huffs.
"How the fuck are you doing this?" She asks, getting to her feet with a magical push. You swallow dry, taking a step back, very alert.
"Practice, of course." You mutter. "Are you ready to continue?"
But Wanda narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly at your sudden alertness. She decides to test a theory, and red sparks appear in the air near your head.
The leap you make in the other direction makes her giggle playfully. 
"Something wrong, darling?"
You grumble, raising a hand in warning, irritably hitting exactly the right spot to point it at her. "Stop this. I told you, no magic."
But Wanda is tired, and she's feeling naughty tonight. Something about your vulnerability makes her body heat up.
She chuckles darkly, taking steps away that only make you swallow dry. "Someone's scared." She sighs, and the sparks appear again. You gasp, clearly anxious and not knowing where to strike.
It's Wanda's fault, there are too many of those and magic is much harder to defend against.
She chuckles at your state, and you snap back almost immediately."That's not funny, Maximoff." 
A magical tug pushes under your knee, behind your elbows, near your foot. Everything makes you jump with fright and sends Wanda into a fit of giggles.
"You're not so cocky when you're scared."
In a desperate attempt, you try to attack the magic, which only disappears into thin air against your skin. Wanda just stands back, watching the scene with amusement.
With an impatient grunt, you raise a finger at her. "Stop this shit, I'm warning you-"
"Don't be rude, darling. I like you best when you're polite." Wanda interrupts, and your exclamation of indignation turns into a grunt of pain when a magical tug forces you to your knees on the mat.
"What the hell?" You gasp, raising your hand to remove the blindfold. 
But the sensation that follows is like ropes grabbing your wrists and pinning your fists behind your back. Your heart is racing at the same moment. "Wanda, what the actual fuck you're doing?"
Although you can't see her, you hear her very well. Her slow steps towards you, until she makes you jump gently when she touches your cheek. You swallow dry. "Stop this bullshit, Wanda, I'm serious."
She pushes her tongue into the roof of her mouth, a clicking sound that makes you swallow dry again. Her fingers caress your cheek, and the lack of visibility makes everything all too vivid.
"You have a very dirty mouth, kotenok (kitten)." She retorts in a tone that makes you shudder from head to toe. With a dry throat, you look up, even though you can't actually see her.
It must be a good thing for your sanity, though. God knows what you would have done if you could have seen the way Wanda's eyes darkened with hunger when she saw you on your knees, looking up at her.
Licking your lips, you say calmly: "Be very careful with your next action, Wanda. It will be definitive for our future interactions."
She bites back a smile, and her hand leaves your cheek for your hair, the motion in the strands at the nape of your neck drawing a stubborn sigh from your lips.
"See, it's much better when you're polite." She says softly, letting her fingers slide between the strands, stroking your hair gently. "That's how it goes. You behave nicely, and you're rewarded. Behave badly, and well..."
To illustrate, she moves her free fingers. You hear the magic before you feel it - right under your blouse, like a rough tug on your left nipple that makes you grunt in pain.
"Fuck, you little shit-" But swearing at her makes it worse. The sensation is repeated on the other nipple, not real enough to hurt the flesh, but enough to cause pain. And in the current scenario, on your knees and blindfolded, just the right amount for a wave of pleasure to wet your panties. 
It takes you by surprise, so much so that instead of grunting in pain, you practically moan. And that makes Wanda smile, especially as she can see the blush rising on your face.
"You need to improve that attitude." She starts again, adjusting the grip on your hair to force your face in her direction again. You bite the inside of your cheek hard, certain that this time, you would have whimpered. "You've been acting like this for too long, you've gotten comfortable in your naughtiness. I can fix that."
"Wanda..."
"Shush, darling, now you don't talk. You listen. Isn't that what you were hoping to train yourself to do?" She teases, and the grip loosens. You don't have to obey, but you're desperate to do so.
With a lump in your throat, you nod and remain silent. And the next second, when the sound of a zipper fills the room, you grow restless and alert.
You're ready to question when Wanda sighs.
"Shit, honey, that's been working for me too." She panted and you were dying to understand what the hell she was talking about when, along with her shortened breaths, you heard a sound that shook your body to its core. 
Was it really possible that Wanda Maximoff was fingering herself right in front of you?
"W-wanda-"
The slap isn't magical - nor is it weak. Your cheek burns, but Wanda grabs your face anyway.
"I told you to be quiet." She grunts, and in a way, the affected voice is confirmation enough of your suspicions. You can feel your underwear starting to feel uncomfortable with the dampness gathering. "You've talked a lot of shit since I joined the team, now you listen, you brat."
Not only do you hear it, but as the movements continue, you can smell it. Her sweet, intoxicating essence is enough to make you moan for the first time in the night.
Wanda let that one slide, because the sound is too good to punish you for it.
And because you've held still long enough for her fingers not to be enough anymore, she's decided that you deserve a reward.
"Open your mouth, darling, I've got a little treat for you." She sighs, and you obey almost immediately, even though your face is burning.
Wanda removes her fingers from inside herself, sighing softly as she does so. Unhurried, she presses them against your tongue and has to bite down hard on her own when you buckle forward, sucking on her fingers with enthusiasm.
"Look at you, who knew you were such an eager little thing?" She taunts, although the sensation of your tongue on her fingers is almost making her lose her train of thought. She can only imagine how deliciously warm you must feel elsewhere.
You just keep moaning, sucking all her wet pleasure from her fingerprints, and Wanda has to reach down and grab your hair once more to regain some of her sense of grounding.
Her voice is hoarse when she speaks again, but you don't seem to mind. "Did you like your treat, darling?"
You open your mouth to reply but hesitate before doing so. And Wanda smiles proudly when she realizes. "Oh, dear, you can speak if it's to answer my questions. Tell me how much you appreciated your treat."
Swallowing dryly, you lower your head. "I loved it, Wanda. And I would love to taste it from the source."
She bites back a giggle, using one hand to lift your chin. "You didn't even thank me."
"Th-"
The magic squeeze comes directly to your clit now. You let out a little yelp, but Wanda's hand doesn't let you lower your head. 
"I didn't tell you to thank me. Rather, I was reprimanding you because good manners don't come to you naturally." She clarifies, and with tears of pain and pleasure in your covered eyes, you nod in understanding. Wanda sighs. "I'm going to make a good girl out of you, even if I have to keep you on edge all night for it."
The whimper that escapes your throat is humiliating, Wanda loves the sound. 
The next sensation on your skin is that of a chain, wrapping itself around your neck. 
"We need to continue this in a more private place, darling. Where no one will interrupt us." Wanda guides, and the chain gives a gentle tug, the hint caught just in time by you, who are on your feet almost immediately. Wanda bites back a smile. "Fuck, I could get used to this."
She manages to lead you quietly and obediently through the empty corridors, but your anxiety overcomes you at the door to her room.
You stop walking, gulping. Wanda smiles because you're waiting for permission to ask a question, even when you're dying to have it answered.
"It's my room." She clarifies, but you shake your head, signaling that it wasn't your doubt. She shouldn't be impressed that you've already become able to memorize the sound of the way to the rooms, but she is. Smiling, Wanda brings a hand up to your face again. "What do you wish to ask, darling?"
You sigh at the permission granted. "Are you... are you sure? About this..." Wanda is taken aback. Your hands are still bound, you're still blindfolded, at her mercy, and yet you're worried about how sure and comfortable she is. You take a deep breath as if trying to find the right words. "This is important, Wanda. We can't go back to how things were before if I come in. And if you're not sure, send me away, and I swear we won't talk about this again and-"
Wanda moves in, it's quick and less hungry than she thought your first kiss would be, considering recent events and frankly, the way she's been craving you.
Your lips are soft and kind of addictive. Your mouth kisses her with real confidence as if you've done it a dozen times, and Wanda has no idea how often you've done it in your dreams. 
But reality is superior to any of those.
You grunt against her mouth, impatiently, and Wanda knows it's because of your trapped hands. But all she can do is smile mischievously, using hers to pull you by the shirt into the room.
The door is magically closed behind the two of you.
You're not surprised to be put on your knees again - even if a moan of protest escapes you. Wanda smiled, feeling a wave of excitement at your vulnerable anxiety, your eyes blindfolded and your head moving gently as if you expected to hear what she was up to.
Wanda bit her lip, working on her own clothes without magic, so that you could hear the motions. It brought a shiver to watch you squirm gently, swallowing dry as if you could picture her naked. And your pleading sigh, practically meowing her name, made Wanda lose her mind.
Now wearing only her underwear, she grabbed your face again and kissed you with everything she had - teeth and tongue - and swallowed every throaty moan until she needed to breathe again. When she pulled away, a line of saliva connected your lips.
"We need a system, darling..." She murmured, her fingers working to open the belt loop of your sweatpants. "You know the color one? Green for go, and red for stop?"
"Y-yes, Wanda, please, just keep going-" She interrupted with a kiss mixed with a giggle at your desperate response, the hands that had opened your pants helping you to the bed, laying you down. The magical chains had adapted, and your hands were attached to the headboard now, holding you open for Wanda. Your arousal grew so intense that Wanda could see your muscles twitching.
She sighed contentedly as she sat on your hips, watching your curious and expectant movements. Magic did the work of removing your pants, but Wanda was taking her time teasing your skin under your blouse, having the best time in the world watching you squirm and gasp.
"Tell me what you want." 
You swallowed dryly, forcing your voice out: "Anything you want to give me."
Wanda bit back a giggle, her fingers tracing your torso. "Good answer, darling." She sighs, and in one tug, rips off your shirt. The remaining pieces are swept away as you try to keep your breathing under control. Wanda adjusts herself and sits on your stomach, her wetness and warmth against your skin making you wince. "I have an idea, you let me use you and I might consider letting you touch me, what do you think?"
"Fuck." You moan, and Wanda can't let that one slide, though the slap on your cheek is light, and much more of a teasing warning than a punishment. It makes you throb inside.
"Language." She warns, and you sigh.
"I'm sorry."
Wanda strokes the soft red on your cheek, leaning in in a way that makes her wetness slide down your abdomen. The involuntary contraction of your muscles draws a gasp from both of you.
"Behave yourself." She warns, and it seems to be as much about the language as your slight movements, and although you nod, you repeat the gesture. Wanda gasps and grips your cheeks tightly. But you force your body upwards, and her grip loosens as she begins to grind against your stomach, giving in to the sensation. 
It brings some kind of pride to know that she's just as affected by this as you are, but even as she's drenching your skin with her hot pleasure, Wanda lowers herself to wrap her hands around your throat and as she uses your tense abdomen to reach her own orgasm, her grip warns you who's in charge. She doesn't take long to come - all the teasing outside has gotten under her skin - and it's the hottest thing that's ever occurred to you, even if you can't see it.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She gasps through the last waves of her orgasm, her hips thrusting hard into you, who pants beneath her. Her juices run down your belly and you squirm impatiently.
"Please, Wanda. Let me touch you." You beg breathlessly, but she kisses you hungrily, her hands going down to your waist. At first, you think she's going to give you what you want, but Wanda gropes you in an unusual way, and you hear her magic before you feel a new volume between your legs. It takes you by surprise, the enchanted item and your tense body makes Wanda break the kiss.
With her forehead pressed against yours, she asks: "Red or green, darling?" As if to encourage an answer, Wanda grabs the conjured fake cock in her hand. It's really enchanted because you feel everything and the pleasure of the moment's stimulation brings a gasp. You move your hips, in the same direction as her without realizing what you're doing, and Wanda giggles. "I still need words."
"Fuck, green, yes." You moan and Wanda gives you a warning bite on the lips for cursing, but your head is spinning with pleasure from the movements that continue between the two of you.
Toys are nothing new - but a magic strap-on that you can feel as an extension of you certainly is. And Wanda seems willing to drive you to the brink of insanity when she simply adjusts the toy at her entrance and sinks in all at once.
You whimper, almost coming at once. She rocks gently against your lap without caring.
It's hard to breathe, especially when Wanda picks up speed and practically jumps on your cock, her warm walls clenching around you, trying to stop you from pulling out. Everything is too hot and just when you're ready to come, Wanda grabs your throat.
"Hold it." It's an order, almost impossible to obey when she rides your lap with such determination. You choke, struggling against the chains, the hot knot in your belly begging to break.
You almost sob. "I-I can't... please-"
She lets out a wicked giggle and doesn't stop moving. "Don't worry, babe, you're not coming. No matter how much you want to."
Wanda moans, and suddenly her movements stop. She groans heavily, gets impossibly tight and you think you're going to come, but something holds you back. Almost like a force of strength, and when Wanda falls limp against you, and her body continues to tremble from the intensity of the orgasm in contrast to yours, burning with more frustration, you understand what she's done.
"Wanda, what the fuck?" you gasped in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. And instead of losing her temper, she giggles mischievously at you.
"That's why you don't deserve to cum, baby. You're a foul-mouthed brat." She bites your jaw as she sits up, and you gasp, feeling her clench around you. "You're not coming until you improve this attitude."
She thrusts into you as a warning and although you feel as if you could come, your body simply won't obey. Because of the blindfold, you can't see her red irises either. 
"You're so mean, Wanda." You groan, sighing at the sensation of her pulling out. 
"Oh, darling, we have barely started."
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twilghtkoo · 14 days
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pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)
genre/aus. fluff, established relationship
warnings. the word smut gets mentioned, jk in that fit
note. i’m a huge book lover and have been busy consuming all romance books in my free time and one part of my brain is just jungkook and another part is filled with all the romantic scenes that happen in the books i read and this idea came up :D lmk if u want more jk x bookworm!reader drabbles i actually loved writing this one so enjoy my brain rot,, likes and reblogs are appreciated ! stay safe <3
[ masterlist ]
“how’d you find this place, we’ve never been in this one.” jungkook notes, observes the surroundings of the small book store you both entered. floor to ceiling shelves filled with literature and writing of every genre, in different colors and sizes. warm yellow lighting from the lights in the ceiling and the battery operated candles that are placed randomly throughout the store. there’s greenery scattered along the walls and potted plants on the floor and one next to the register, creating a familiar, welcoming environment.
you can’t help but smile when you walk in. “i took a different route home from class last week and saw this place. i wanted to wait to go with you.” you answer, greeting the woman behind the counter with a soft smile.
you feel his hand blindly reach for yours from behind, you first find his pinky then interlace your fingers with his.
“it feels homey in here.” he thinks aloud, as both of you walk by a red worn out couch.
you lead him through the aisles one by one, not having any interest in the specific genres besides your favorite, but looking at the filled shelves brings you comfort.
“oh! they have comics here.” he points to the aisle across from you and now he’s taking the lead.
a comforting silence falls between you both as you skim through each shelf organized by the marvel universe, dc comics, video games and manga. from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook holding a manga in his hand.
“when was the last time you read one?”
he sighs, “i think when i was young, probably about six years ago to be honest. i don’t really have time now.” he slightly pouts at his statement.
you place your hand on his lower back before rubbing soothing circles. “i know you’ve read that one before. haikyuu,” you read the title out loud.
he nods, closing the book and placing it back with the others. “yeah i read like the first few volumes but never finished it.”
you both look throughout the manga selection some more before you manage to talk him into buying at least two volumes of jujutsu kaisen.
he holds the two books in one hand and holds your hand in his other.
you make it to the romance aisle, and immediately take your time looking around. you always feel overwhelmed in the bookstore and feel like you’re taking too long looking in just one section but jungkook always assures you to take your time and look, that he’s not in a rush.
you pick up a book and examine the cover and pages before reading the back, humming to yourself if one peaked your interest but not enough to hold onto it.
“do these have smut in them?” he blurts out next to you.
your eyes go big and you smack him on the arm. you look at the bright neon green sticky note that’s taped to the shelf with the word ‘spicy’. did they have to make it known to the world?
“would you be quiet?” you whisper-yell at him, trying to contain your laughter.
he rubs his arm where you hit him as his eyes blink innocently. liar.
he lets go of his arm and giggles, pulling you close to his side and kisses the crown of your head. “just messing with you.” he smirks.
you scoff, pushing him away lightly but failing because your boyfriend is 5’10 and muscles.
he lets you continue to look around and he does the same but not with a purpose. but he knows if he pretends to busy himself, you won’t feel rushed. and he wants you to take your time.
by the time you reached the end of the romance aisle, you’re holding two books in your hands. one hardcover and one paperback.
“that’s it? only two books you found?” jungkook stares in disbelief, his eyebrow arched.
“a hardcover is expensive.” you tell him. there were other books you found and wanted, but now that you know this place is here, you’ll stop by again one of these days after class and come back for them if they’re still here.
“babe, go get all the books you want.” he waves you off, but you stay put.
shaking your head, “no, i’ll come back for them one of these days after my classes.”
“go get them now.”
“kook, it’s okay.”
“i know it is, but i want to get them for you anyway. you got a new bookcase with more shelves and you need to fill it up.” he says, peering down at you softly but he’s not giving up.
you did get a new shelf, with your paycheck you decided to spoil yourself and get a new one that had five shelves instead of your three. you had a growing collection and you had a tower of books on your floor. you needed a proper space for them.
you bite your lip. “yeah, but i don’t want you-“
he interrupts you by placing his lips on yours, moving against your lips for only two seconds.
the kiss was so abrupt that it had you in a daze.
“go get the books, hardcover or not. i don’t care yn.” he used your name. not babe or baby.
you sigh in defeat, knowing you lost this battle. jungkook offers to hold your books and you let him, you went back for the books you wanted and carefully stacked them onto his hands. it was only ten books you found, but the stack reached to his chest and you felt bad.
“don’t give me that look, baby.” he tells you as you both make your way up to the front to pay.
the lady’s eyes go wide at the tower of books in his hands, but doesn’t say nothing and scans everything.
you inch closer to his side as the lady tells him the total and it makes you gasp. but jungkook is relaxed as the lady asks if we wanted to sign up to become a member and he doesn’t even bother to ask me as he gives her my number for the future. he finishes by tapping his card onto the machine and grabbing the two bags of books.
you thank the lady and you both leave the store. the sky now different shades of blue, orange and red.
“thank you kook, i really appreciate you.” you tell him thoughtfully, sliding your arm through his and holding onto it. he glances down at you with a soft smile, his piercings shining under the sunset.
he hums. “i love you.”
“i love you.”
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prettybabybaby · 1 year
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¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
content: stepcest (use of "brother" and "sister"), stepbrother!regulus, stepbrother!sirius, fem!reader, unprotected sex, breeding
a/n: found this in my drafts.... dk why i didn't post it
¡ marauders masterlist !
Regulus persists, rutting into you with desperation, cock starved of attention and stimulation. He has an iron grip on your hips, holding you in place when you try to thrash out of his grip at the sight of Sirius. His eyes are almost blank, darkened with lust, pupils blown almost comically as he chases his high, using your body to do so.
Sirius stares on, breathing in the scent of sex that fills your frilly bedroom. He crosses his arms, watching Regulus with an amused smirk. His eyes fall on you covering your face with embarrassment but your pathetic squeaks and moans continue, shamelessly loud and almost pornographic. Your cheeks burn red like Regulus’, blush high and painting the canvases of your pretty faces. 
Your parents hadn’t been out of the house in far too long. Regulus had begun to lose patience, but he had to hold off on playing with his sweet sister to avoid suspicion of his sinful urges he couldn’t help but act upon. And you let him so easily. Despite your protests and weak fighting, you melted into him, obeying his every command to spread your legs wide or open your mouth, flip onto your back, and prep your little holes for his cock to nestle itself into, abusing you until he was satisfied – or you were interrupted. 
This time, though, there was no stopping his eager humping into your fluttering pussy. Not even the presence of your brother standing by the door, entering with confident steps. He swung the door closed behind him as he approached the creaking bed, eyes raking your sweating bodies. Regulus adjusted his hold, pinning you to the bed even more painfully. You whined, trying to cover your body from the preying gazes of your brothers. 
“Couldn’t resist, Reggie?” Sirius spoke. “Y’playing with our sweet sister all alone?” Sirius’ ringed fingers danced across your exposed chest, meanly twisting a nipple before he pried your hands from your face. “Don’t play shy, slut. You’re letting your brother fuck you silly and you think you can be shy?” he tsks.
Regulus grunts as the dams of your eyes break, sending a river of tears down your rouge cheeks. He tries to thrust even harder, push himself even deeper into you, moving your hips up and down to meet his stuttering hips in his attempt to do so. You slide up and down the pillow where your head rests, hair tangling and back sliding against the soft bed sheets. 
Sirius’ fingers glide downwards, gathering a pinch of regulus’ curly pubic hair and pulling meanly. Regulus makes a sound at the pleasurable pain, digging his nails onto your hips before pinning you down, slamming into you, almost like he was trying to mold you and the soaked sheets into one. 
“Move,” Sirius says, “I wanna play, too.”
Regulus slows but doesn’t pull out, giving his brother a displeased look. Sirius looks back, raising a perfectly shaped brow as he touches up Regulus’ sweaty chest, circling his hardened pink nipples. Regulus’ hips stutter but he pulls out, mourning your warmth instantly. His cock is fully erect, angry, and red, wet with slick and come. He moves aside, grazing your wet thighs as he parts. 
Sirius takes his place, laughing meanly as he gathers the juices on his fingers. Your pussy’s throbbing, clit engorged and jumping in excitement. Pearly spunk drips in thick beads and you crave to push it back in, push your brother deep into your womb. “Look at you two,” Sirius laughs. “Fucking each other like virgins. Desperate dogs.” You and Regulus burn brighter in humiliation, a bubblegum pink covering every inch of skin on your face.
You can see the slight grinding of Regulus’ hips against the blankets holding up his cock. You almost whine in jealousy of the inanimate object. Your attention was brought back to Sirius when he slipped a come-coated finger into your sensitive little hole, swirling and curling it as he spoke. 
“You really let him come inside you?” Sirius chided, “that’s filthy. Are the poor puppies so desperate they fuck their own siblings?”
You sob and Regulus begins to thrust into the blanket. You reach for him, shaking your head pathetically, begging him not fuck anything but you. 
“You want his disgusting cum so badly?” Sirius laughs again, “you want him to fill you with his babies, huh?”
You close your eyes as you nod, “please, please.” you feel so empty, cold from the lack of your brother's hard ruts and warm spent painting your insides.
“You’ve had enough of Reggie, don’t you think?” Sirius begins to pull down the waistband of his pajamas, letting his own aching prick spring free. You stare at it, looking from the leaking head of Sirius’ cock to Regulus’. “Do you want my babies, too?”
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battymommastuff · 2 months
Text
The Other Side
Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily
Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City
!!TW!! - MENTIONS OF SA AND OTHER DARK THEMES
Part 1 Part 2 Masterlist
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!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.
You didn't get a chance to address the deep voice before a cloth was covering your face and the world went dark. A throbbing pain came next when you awoke. You were laying on a very luxurious bed. Looking down, you saw that you were still in your same clothing. Just a silk robe that covered your underwear. Your heart was racing as you looked around the room. Whoever lived here, lived in style. Everything looked as if it would cost you bodily organs to own. 
Before the shock could wear off, the two massive double doors opened, and a man walked into the room. A mask covering his face, and his eyes watched you carefully. Your body visibly shrunk as you stared at the intimidating man across the room from you, "Ms. (L/N), I do want to apologize for the rather harsh retrieval of you. We have to take precautionary measures these days." The man said while stepping closer to you. He stepped into the moonlight, and you finally saw every detail of his mask. A golden bird mask...no owl mask. What the hell is going on? 
"W-What do you want with me?" You asked, moving off of the bed once he got too close to you. The bed now served as a barrier between you and your kidnapper, but it didn't provide any comfort for you. All you could think of was being raped, and sold on the black market. Gotham City wasn't the safest city, but you never thought this would happen to you. How did this happen? There was always security watching over the bunk area every night to make sure this never happened. How did these men get in to kidnap you? Whatever the reason, you didn't feel safe with the circus anymore. 
"To give you a chance...a chance to be apart of something great. My organization works from the shadows to ensure the safety of our beautiful city..." Beautiful isn't a word you would use, but sure, "You possess a talent that could be beneficial to our cause." The man picked up a remote and turned the tv on. What played was several of your acts and some of your rehearsals. All taken from vantage points, and places that you wouldn't have noticed someone watching you, "We've come to realize that our organization is seen as a myth, a boogeyman. Many criminals fear us, and with your talents...we could harness that fear." He stepped around the bed and started making his way towards you once again. The fear you felt kept your legs from moving, so this time he got uncomfortably close to you, "Join us (Y/N). Join us and help us purge Gotham of everything that taints it." 
The Court of Owls. One of Gotham's scariest myths. You've heard whispers of them while spending days in the city. Some of your fellow performers even mentioned them once or twice. Everything you've ever heard was never good. This cult believes they are doing the right thing, but are harming so many in the process. You couldn't join them...you couldn't live your life in the shadows. What could ever be so wonderful about someone so full of darkness? It seemed that the man saw what you were thinking, and he backed away, "Such a shame...you would have been such a valuable asset. I'm afraid if you won't join us, then we have to do away with you. You will pose a risk to all of us." The man turned his back towards you, and you knew now was your chance. Grabbing the closest thing to you; a lamp, you hit him over the bed. The man dropped to the ground, and you ran to the window. Luckily you weren't too high from the ground, so you pushed the window open and climbed out. 
You could hear voices and yelling as you dashed into the dark, raining city. You hadn't a clue where you were going, but anywhere would be better than this. The circus would be the first place they would look, so you had to find somewhere new. You could hear footsteps behind you as well as some above you. They were after you, and they were fast. Thankfully, your breathing training worked wonders. Still you were no match for these skilled men. They managed to corner you into a dead end alley. This is it. The place where your dead body would be found. It all ended here. The vile smell of puke, piss, and garbage filled your nose as you looked around at the court members closing in on you, "P-Please...I promise I won't tell anyone. Just let me go." You pleaded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. From behind you were pushed to your knees, and you could see your reflection in the blade meant for your death. 
The member lifted the blade up, but before it could meet your skin...a rope wrapped around their wrist. With a scream, they were pulled into the darkness. It felt as if all sound in the city stopped...everything went quiet. You felt fear before, but this was a new level of fear. A fear that you never would forget. A black shadow flew by, grabbing another member. This caused the rest of them to ignore you, and turned their attention to their surroundings. Now would have been the perfect time to run, but your legs were screaming. The adrenaline was wearing off, and it felt like you couldn't move an inch. A bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, right as a shadow covered the alley...a shadow of a bat. The mysterious savior dropped down on one of the members, and a fight broke out. You could only watch in awe as your savior took down every single member without much struggle. Once it was over, the figure turned towards you. Again the lighting allowed you a glimpse of him. The bat symbol of his chest matched the one in the night sky. 
"Batman..." You whispered, with relief before your eyes rolled back and you slumped to the ground. Batman walked towards you, and gently picked you up from the ground. He didn't see any visible injuries besides little scrapes on your knees from being pushed to the ground. Even now you were just as beautiful as you were while performing. He held you close and summoned the Batmobile. No hospital in Gotham would be safe enough for you. He needed to take you to the batcave. There you would be safe, and he could question you. 
"Alfred, get the med-bay ready. We have a guest." Batman said into his comms, after sitting you in the passenger seat. Your head leaned on the window, but your lips were starting to turn blue. Judging from your attire, you must have been getting ready for bed. With one final look over to make sure you were secure, he raced off into the streets of Gotham to the batcave.
TAGLIST
@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa @xxrougefangxx @pixviee @discocactus-world @b4tm4nn @minimoxha @crutoyu @nightw-izhu @legendarylearner18 @mangegeek17 @pixiedust0604 @that-one-fangirl69
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jjkeverlast · 8 months
Text
seven days a week | jjk (m)
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>> pairing jungkook x fem!reader
>> genre/au's friends with benefits to lovers | college AU | smut | crack
>> summary jeon jungkook has always had crazy ideas, but wanting to fuck you every day of the week was the last thing you expected.
>> word count 3.4k
>> warnings they’re so cute you might puke | bam is mentioned!!! | a lot of fluff and domestic activites | reader thirsts over jungkook’s body (bestie same) | shower sex | fingering | handjob | doggy style | unprotected sex (do not do this at home lol) | open but happy ending :)
>> author's note first of all i just wanna say again, happy birthday to the birthday boy jungkook and omg guys seven days a week has officially come to an end! thank you for showing so much love to this silly little drabble series. 🩷 also i'm not sorry for using that pic of jungkook for the banner...
masterlist for seven days a week
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The constant ringing beside you is what causes you to stir awake in your sleep, Jungkook’s face resting in the crook of your neck. You squint one eye open, realizing it’s dark outside. Groaning as you stretch, you realize it isn’t your phone that’s ringing but Jungkook’s.
“Koo.” You mumble, running your fingers through his hair to wake him up gently after your nap, that may have turned into a full night sleep instead. 
“Mhm.” He nuzzles his nose further against your skin, breathing in your scent as you feel his smile starting to stretch against it.
“Your phone is ringing.” You explain, voice a tad hoarse.
Jungkook doesn’t move, only his arm reaching over his one night stand to fiddle after the constant buzzing. When his hand lands flatly on his phone, he grabs it, not in the mood to check and puts it against his ear.
“Hello?” The moment another voice rings through it, Jungkook moves up and walks out of the bedroom. You don’t question him, hearing it’s his mother talking to him. 
While he strolls directly to the living room, you take the time to bring some light in his room. You check the time, realizing it’s a bit past midnight. It takes you by complete surprise by how you and Jungkook were able to sleep for so long. 
You also quickly realize you have to use the bathroom, and that’s when you walk out to do so only to hear—
“Thank you for the birthday wish, mom. Miss you too.” He speaks softly. 
Wait, it’s Jungkook’s birthday today? You halt in your steps, considering if you should ask further but you go against it, proceeding to go to the bathroom. 
When you walk back into the bedroom, Jungkook is changing the covers with a smile pampering his face. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi.” He bites back a giggle, and that’s when you can’t help but ask.
“Sorry, it wasn’t meant for me to overhear, but is it your birthday today?” You ask with caution, careful not to overstep. After all you and Jungkook just started ‘this’ and it’s still new, therefore the last thing you want is to cross boundaries and make Jungkook uncomfortable.
In regards to that, Jungkook surprises you by walking up to you and pulling you by the waist, letting your foreheads touch and support against each other. 
“It is.” He confirms, smiling much wider now. 
“Happy birthday, Jungkook.” You wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your noses together which creates a slight tickle. 
“Thank you, baby.” He pecks your lips slowly, embracing the warmth from your shared kiss. 
When he slowly pulls away, his eyes are still closed. 
“How do you want to spend your… night?” 
“Oh shit, you’re right.” His eyes pop open when he realizes he has more than a whole day ahead of him, his birthday barely starting. 
The expression on Jungkook’s face is comical, causing you to laugh against his cheek as you rub your hand on his back in circles. 
“I wanna eat fried chicken.” 
The only fried chicken shop that’s open right now, is a good ten minute walk from here but if it’s Jungkook’s wish, you’re happy to accompany him to create the best ‘day’ for him. 
“Then, let’s go.” 
Jungkook’s face brightens at your comment, excitement already increasing as you both get ready to step out of the door. He’s kind enough to lend you some clothes that fit your size. The air a bit more chilly now as the night has settled in. 
The hoodie smells like Jungkook, as you swallow your face into it, stepping out of his apartment with him trailing behind. 
Namjoon is apparently first arriving early in the morning, so for the night it’ll be just you and Jungkook and a lot of fried chicken to digest. 
With hands intertwined, Jungkook swings your arm back and forth as you walk excitedly to the 24 hour open shop. 
“Are you planning to go to Busan tomorrow?” You ask, remembering that it’s his hometown, and surely his family must want him home and celebrate him as he deserves. 
“Yeah, my mom also called to double check if I’m able to. I’ve done it since I moved to Seoul, hence why I’m so excited today as well. I’ve really missed my parents… And Bam.” 
“Bam?” 
“My dog! I’m not able to have him in the apartment with Namjoon due to the rules in the building, so my parents promised to take good care of him.” The conversation results in Jungkook sharing and showing you endless pictures and videos of Bam. 
You coo as you watch the close up videos of Bam booping his nose against the camera when Jungkook calls his name. 
“I would be excited too if that was waiting for me at home.” 
Jungkook is quick to agree with your comment, and shortly after, you’ve reached the destination. Since it’s his birthday, you’re offering to pay, Jungkook quickly shutting down your kind gesture but you’re having none of it. Your stubbornness is worse than his, causing you to win against him and pay the older man who owns the shop. 
Jungkook decides he’d rather eat it at home, which is why you carry a big white plastic bag on the way back. The smell accompanies you the whole way, stomachs grumbling the closer you reach Jungkook’s apartment. 
Finally entering the warmth of Jungkook’s place, you squeeze yourselves in the kitchen to grab the necessities. Jungkook tries to push you away whenever you want to help, because ‘it’s my day, I decide.’ Which is true, but you want to do more for his birthday. 
Finally, you sit by the edge of the couch, opening the white box filled with fried chicken. Jungkook hands you a glove, before diving in himself and munching down on the crunchy food. You join him later, salivating at how good it tastes and how the flavors mold nicely together. 
Jungkook wanted every kind of dip, which explains why there’s an exact number of eight dips sprawled on the coffee table. He’s not even dipping one fried chicken in one, no, he’s taking a bit of each. The action causes you to stifle a weirded out expression. 
“How come one dip isn’t enough for you?” 
Jungkook becomes offended, raising an eyebrow. “How come you think you’re allowed to speak in regards to that? Hmm?” The tone he uses shows he’s forcing himself to ‘play’ annoyed rather than actually being it. You find it cute, therefore you pinch his cheek with your clean hand. 
“Just eat your food.” 
The following hour, you eat in silence, Jungkook moaning and complimenting the food with every bite. It’s a peaceful and endearing activity. The longer you hang out with Jungkook, the more you’re grateful that you took that risk Friday, by finally admitting what you’ve always felt for him. 
Slowly but surely, the food disappears and rests peacefully in your stomachs. Jungkook wants to digest by watching the newest k-drama available on Netflix, and you condone, letting him watch whatever pleases him.
It results in you both laying together on the couch, Jungkook has his head on your lap, stroking your knee with his tattooed hand. Your fingers run through his hair, soothing him slowly as the drama evolves on the screen in front of you. 
“Is there anything else you’d like tonight?” 
“A warm shower.” He stretches, changing position so he faces you directly. 
“Okay.” You’re about to move aside to let him shower in peace, but Jungkook takes you by surprise once more. When isn’t he full of surprises? 
“Join me?” He asks softly, doe eyes staring up at you and how can you say no? 
“Sure.” You smile at him, cupping his cheek and rubbing down on the scar gently. He leans his face towards your warm palm, closing his eyes for a bit and you notice every small detail about Jungkook’s face. The length of his eyelashes, the mole under his lip, the paired silver lip rings and his boopable nose. Everything about Jeon Jungkook is mesmerizing. 
Carefully, you trace the tip of your finger on every curve and edge of his face. The skin is soft against it, the edges of his lips are a bit wet as you press. Jungkook opens his eyes, kisses the pad of your finger and moves you both upwards to scurry to the bathroom. 
Jungkook opens the shower door, turning the water on hot while you lock the door behind you. The sound begins to erupt in the small bathroom of water running down. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to throw his hoodie and t-shirt off in one go, exposing his well built abs and full tattooed sleeve for your eyes. 
You gulp, feeling hot by the sight of his body in such a natural situation. You clear your throat, distracting yourself by removing your own clothes. A shower is needed for both of you, forgetting to do so yesterday after having sex deciding on a nap instead. 
Jungkook is first to enter the shower, his broad and built back turned to you. You want to touch and feel but hold yourself back, following suit. The warm water hits you both, easing you down the longer you stand under it. Jungkook has his arm wrapped around you, as he uses his free hand to prevent you from getting water in your eyes. 
Instead, you both turn around, the water trailing effortlessly fast down on Jungkook’s chest and further down to his abs. The sight is indescribable. The droplets compliment his skin, making everything more prominent for you. Jungkook is pushing his hair back with a free hand, closing his eyes as he covers his face completely. His adam’s apple moves when your hands land on his chest, caressing him under the circulating warmth. Jungkook removes his face from the shower head, his gaze fixated on you instead. 
He doesn’t question your sudden touch on him, it feels nice. Having you touch him so gently and in total admiration. Jungkook wouldn’t love it any different. 
“Can I wash your hair?” You ask, wanting to do something for him. Jungkook simply nods, handing you the shampoo for you to use. With that, you pour some down on your palm and bring it up to his hair, massaging the soft strands as they straighten under the pressured water. 
Jungkook hums in satisfaction, loving how you don’t miss a single spot, massaging his scalp gently as the shampoo regains a foamy consistency. You ask him to turn around, making sure the longer strands on the nape of his neck are taken care of as well. He turns back around, winking your way when he notices how concentrated you look. You roll your eyes, slapping him lightly. 
“All good.” You confirm, “close your eyes.” Jungkook obeys, and you grab his jaw so he’s placed back towards the shower head to wash off the excess. The white bubbles trail down Jungkook’s body when you rinse out his hair. Jungkook is wearing a tight lipped smile, eyes crinkling as he has them fully shut and the sight is adorable, your heart almost does a whole flip. 
Succeeding your mission with Jungkook’s hair, you proceed and wash the upper part of his body. Jungkook has a yellow luffa hanging beneath all the products. You grab onto it, squeezing some vanilla scented body wash and scrub on Jungkook’s sleeve. You move from his shoulder blade to his chest, moving downwards to his abs and that’s when you hear a hiss from Jungkook. You lock eyes, Jungkook’s mouth agape by how your movements have slowed down, now only moving further down.
“Baby.” He mumbles, leaning forward to kiss you but you want to play this for a little longer, enjoying his reactions a tad bit much. 
“Let me wash your back.” Your fingers are gripping onto his waist, indicating you need him to turn and Jungkook mumbles to himself, hiding his face from you. 
“Fucking tease.” 
You hear the words loud and clear, giggling shamelessly because he’s absolutely right. You are a tease. Even though it’s his birthday, he’ll never be able to avoid you wanting to mess around just a tiny bit for fun. 
You don’t notice until now how much you’ve been craving to touch Jungkook’s back. The sight has you at loss for words. He’s so… broad, yet his waist is tiny and that has your brain spiraling. Jungkook moves his arm to scratch a spot by his neck, revealing his muscle moving and retracting in a short second. You’re close to dropping the luffa, too stunned to proceed with your fun little game because quite frankly, Jeon Jungkook might be the death of you. 
It’s as if Jungkook notices how you’ve completely stopped, causing his head to turn to gain a peak. “Is there something wrong?” 
“Why are you so… hot?” You don’t mean to blurt it out, but it’s said, out in the open in the middle of Jungkook’s shower. 
“I— I mean.” You try to cover up how raw and honest that comment was, especially when Jungkook sports that ridiculous grin that signals you’ve boosted his ego. Hiding your embarrassment, you proceed to scrub his back, tracing your hands down his spine in awe. Jungkook suddenly begins to feel your nails scraping on the lower half of his back. You’re unaware of your own actions, mind too caught up with what’s in front of you, until Jungkook lets out a small moan. 
“Fuck.” 
Your ears perk up by the sudden noise, about to retract your fingers until Jungkook pushes against your touch, a way for him to tell you to continue. You don’t question it, grazing your fingers from his lower back and following his spine upwards. Jungkook lets out a huff of air, leaning his head backwards as the water hits his face harshly. 
Every movement of yours causes Jungkook to grow hot in front of you. He tries not to show it, but it’s noticeable with the way he’s giving himself completely to your touch. It doesn’t help you either how you’re able to touch him this way, so gently yet so intimately. 
Jungkook has grown impatient, turning around swiftly and grabbing your jaw to kiss you. His mouth is wetter than usual, met with your own as your tongues graze against each other. You accidentally drop the luffa down to the tiled floor, both hands roaming on his chest and abs instead as your heads tilt in a synchronized rhythm. 
He catches you off guard when his own hand travels down to your ass, gripping it harshly so you land flatly against him. The soap from Jungkook’s body melts onto yours as you grope each other shamelessly. 
When Jungkook stops kissing you, he grabs your nape to keep your gaze fixated on his. He wants to watch every reaction of yours when his hand soon enough touches your core. Your eyebrows furrow by the action, biting down on your lip when his fingers slide in between your lips, not surprised that you’re already wet. 
Jungkook smirks, playing with your clit as your face morphs completely due to the intense pleasure he’s causing. 
“F—Fuck.” Your hold on his chest tightens, nails sinking into his skin. Jungkook groans by how roughly you’re touching him. 
Seeing you already so messy by his fingers causes Jungkook to grow hard. You notice, as your gaze quickly runs down and up again to see Jungkook’s darkened gaze. 
Therefore, you reciprocate, grabbing onto his cock and stroking him slowly. You’re both moaning against each others lips, overwhelmed by not only the intense pleasure but the warmth from the water making this completely different than any other time you’ve had sex. 
“Turn around.” Jungkook orders. 
You stop touching him, turning around and bending slightly, knowing where this will lead. Thankfully, you’re able to support yourself with both hands on the wall. Jungkook positions himself behind you, biting down your earlobe as he slides in with ease. 
“This fucking pussy.” Jungkook breathes out, loss for words when you wrap around him so perfectly. It’s almost as if you were made for him. 
You lean your forehead against the wall, eyes watching Jungkook slowly easing out and in of you again. Whenever his tip is about to leave you, you clench and Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens. 
The water is still running between your bodies, Jungkook watching how droplets of water paint the curve of your ass nicely along with your naked back. Jungkook runs his hands on your skin, quickening his thrusts. 
The skin slapping sounds are more wet than usual, the water jumping along with each thrust from Jungkook’s end. He feels himself enjoying this much more than all those times he’s seen you from behind. 
Something about your body being completely soaked as he fucks into you, has Jungkook spiraling. He’s out of control, teasing you with his intense thrusting that slows down whenever you’re close to a high. 
Jungkook wants to keep himself buried inside of you if he could, and internally wishes he never finishes. 
You make it harder for him when you push back towards him, the movements growing harsher and more rough. The more you push back, the closer Jungkook feels he’s on edge. 
“Don’t move.” Jungkook manages to say before he’s moaning again when you stop, half of his cock leaving your warm heat. 
Before Jungkook continues, he reaches his hand down to play with your clit, just like how you love it. Your hand joins his, holding it there for support as your legs are almost about to give out. 
“Fuck me. Please Jungkook—“ You plead and Jungkook bites back a groan, before doing so. His body meets yours smoothly, cock filling you up to the brim. 
The intensity grows again, the orgasm you so desperately chase for, seeping through the corner. 
“Yes— Keep going.” You mumble, completely out of it, mind hazy and eyes barely able to stay open. Jungkook doesn’t waste a second, holding you tightly to fuck you just like you deserve. 
The minute you’re about to reach your high, you look behind you, noticing how Jungkook’s head is leaned back paired with a mouth open. Fuck. The sight is what does it for you, coming undone all over his cock. As you clench again when you come undone, Jungkook feels his own orgasm approach him.  
He removes his hand from your clit, gripping both sides of your hips, chasing his own high. 
“Fucking hell, baby.” You hear behind you, right before the last thrust falters and Jungkook’s cock twitches inside of you, filling you up completely. 
Slowly, Jungkook slides out of you, helping you even though your body has given out completely due to tiredness. 
It’s funny how the roles switch as soon as you’ve had sex. Jungkook ends up taking care of you next, washing every inch of your body as you fix your hair. 
When you’re both pleased with the shower, you walk out drying yourselves. Jungkook giggles when you wrap a towel against his head and ruffle his hair with it. Your cheeks hurt from smiling too much, Jungkook joining you on that end. 
Despite it being three in the morning when you’re both done, Jungkook is still wide awake wanting to watch the next episode to the k-drama from earlier. You don’t hesitate to agree. 
Both of you end up sitting in new clothes, wrapped up in a big blanket. 
One thing that’s dangerous about k-dramas is the length of each episode, and the constant cliffhanger they leave you with. It results in you and Jungkook staying awake up until the sounds of keys ruffle from outside and someone steps inside the apartment. 
You’re guessing it’s Namjoon, and you’re right when he tip toes into the living room, thinking Jungkook is fast asleep.
“What the fuck?!” Namjoon almost screams, not expecting to see you both awake at not even seven in the morning. 
“Good morning roomie!” Jungkook greets with an overly excited voice. You’re pretty certain it’s because he’s overtired at this point. 
“H-hi?” Namjoon questions, not expecting for them to have a guest. “Who’s…” 
“This is Y/N.” Jungkook says casually and Namjoons’ frown turns quickly to a smile. 
“So you’re Y/N. What a pleasure.” Namjoon reaches over to shake your hand and you smile, repeating his own words. 
“Now how did this happen? I mean weren’t you guys just… You know?” 
You quirk an eyebrow, surprised Namjoon knows anything about yours and Jungkook’s earlier relationship. 
“Well. It’s funny you ask.” Jungkook starts off and you already have a bad feeling about this. 
“It started with me convincing her I could fuck her everyday for a week straight and—“ 
“Jungkook!” 
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taglist for this series;
@royallyjjk @fandems @lukeys-giggle @junniesoleilkth @katie-tibo @effielumiere @babigriin @cocopuffsilove @exactlygreatcoffee @shameless-army @frieschan @fairy-jaykay @thvhoe @taebangtanbabe @parkjammys @bloopkook @canyon-lwt @borahaexoxo @iffyleafy @kookswifesblog @astralmono @skzthinker @joonblogz @evajeonsworld @justanotherkpopstanlol @younhakim29 @needausernamepl @rinkud @jungkookie94 @revluvexo-ls @jiminswh0re @kimsharon-2430 @chimmisbae @jjkluvcloudsworld @laylasbunbunny @queen-in-the-shadows @moonstar127 @ediary2 @whatfandomnow @jimmeojimin @ikpopwriting @burnahtsw @jkslaugh97 @hopeworldjimin @hoseokteardrop @justaprettywriter @gummymintae
[if your tag doesn't work, that means i'm unable to tag you :(((]
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© jjkeverlast 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.]
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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months
Text
Little Gift- Introduction
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Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Human Fem Reader
Beautiful Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2
Sumarry: The RDA are forced to negotiate with a certain Olo'eyktan. Luckily, there is only one thing he wants.
Warnings: dark, dubcon/noncon, suggestive, kidnapping, aged up Neteyam, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, humiliation, dark Neteyam, swearing, power imbalance, etc. (not exhaustive) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
A/N: I had this idea in the middle of the night two days ago. This will be the introduction of the mini series. It is dark content so read at your own risk.
tiyawn: love
mawey: be calm
oeyӓ: my (possessive)
Masterlist
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The rope is coarse against your wrist and ankles, tied tight enough to leave squirming out of the question. However, it's the thick fabric gag that has you grinding your teeth together in discomfort. They leave you no opportunity to ask questions. No way to understand your fate before it unfolds. 
Colonel Quaritch had been even more cold and distant as you were prepared for the mysterious treck. You had been in the middle of packing your stuff, preparing to return home with the rest of the RDA when you had been dragged away and dressed against your will. 
Now kneeling here in the middle of Pandora’s forest wearing little more than sparkly scraps, you have never felt more exposed. The intricately beaded top does little to nothing to cover your hardening nipples and it’s easy to catch some of the Colonel’s brats sneaking a glance occasionally. 
“Colonel,” Lyle calls to your left. “For a final touch.” He holds a large pink ribbon in one hand, eyes snapping over to your small form with a smirk. 
“Be quick.” Quaritch grumbles but he doesn’t hide the amusement painted across his face. 
You attempt to scoot away when Lyle approaches you but he wrangles you back into place one handed. Another recom keeps you still with hands on your shoulders and before you know it Lyle is using the ribbon to tie a big bow directly over your breasts.
You muster every hateful thought into your heated glare, not that it does much to kill his mood. 
It’s obvious that you are the one left out of the joke everyone seems to revel in. Several times you wonder if all of this is some sick prank. Dressing you up only to drag you into the middle of the woods and leave you for dead. Perhaps even kill you themselves. 
However, thirty minutes of kneeling in the mud with a small army on high alert around you proves plans to be otherwise. There is something ominous about that pink bow tied around you, something even more suspicious about the traditional Na’vi clothing that has somehow been made to fit you perfectly. 
“That bastard sure likes to take his sweet time.” Mansk huffs. 
“What more did you expect from one of Sully’s filthy half breeds?” Quaritch sneers, readjusting the heavy artillery into his shoulder. 
“Makes a lot of demands too. Swear if we didn’t need these resources-” Lyle starts but is cut off.
“And yet we do. So shut your trap and pay attention.” The Colonel snips at him. It’s almost comical to see how fast Lyle straightens and goes back to scanning the terrain for movement. 
Always the Colonel’s bitch. 
You wish this ridiculous gag wouldn’t stop you from finally speaking your opinion freely. If you are about to meet your demise, the least they could let you do is get some long awaited satisfaction. 
Tension bleeds into the atmosphere. The former marines snap to attention and guns are locked into place, the formation fanning them out to combat any potential threats. 
It takes several dreadful seconds for you to see them but finally a pair of golden eyes just barely shines through the thick forest. They are in the trees, crouched to the ground, in bushes, some even swooping overhead on banshees. 
You marvel at their ability to hide in the nooks and crannies of the forest. However, even now you recognize that they are choosing to be seen. They have decided to make their presence known. 
Your heart thunders.
Tied and kneeling between the two juxtaposing crowds feels like being offered up as a human sacrifice. 
Do the Na’vi believe in live sacrifice?
Perhaps they too put up dead to their deity as a sign of loyalty. 
And you are pampered and primed for the taking. 
“Signed, sealed and delivered as promised.” The Colonel grunts, boot clad toe nudging your vulnerable form. 
Dread slinks through your veins.
What have you done to deserve this?
The Na’vi that steps out into the open is one that you can recognize instantly. Even a human of low status among the RDA knows what Jake Sully’s eldest son, and now Omatikaya Olo’eyktan, looks like. His face has become a focused target that the RDA have been working to exterminate for months. Now, it feels all for naught as they have been brought to their knees and forced to leave Pandora with little resources. The same reason you prepare yourself to say goodbye to this mysterious planet for good.
However, that was the idea before you were prepared like a trussed up main course for the taking. 
You struggle fruitlessly in the binds once more and Neteyam’s eyes center on you. Peering up at him hurts your neck as you are once again reminded of how tall and muscular the Na’vi are. His shoulders give the illusion of spanning out even further with the traditional feathered mantle he wears. 
His head slants to the side before he is prowling closer. You attempt to jerk away from his large hand coming to your face but that only ends in you falling back on your rear. His lips turn down as he inspects your tied wrists. There is nothing you can do as he holds both of them easily with one hand. 
“I was told she would not be harmed.” He speaks lowly, voice thick with a Na’vi accent. 
“She put up quite a fight. Even getting her to hold still during the shot was a pain in the ass.” Quaritch replies.
You remember all too well the fear that had overcome you when they brought out that long needle. The developed serum was a success naturally but it still racks your anxiety higher to fully breathe Pandoran air without your mask. Even more so, you feel strangely more exposed in front of this Na’vi legend without the glass to separate you from him. 
“I don’t appreciate excuses.” His golden eyes flicker towards your face and a small smile appears. “But I am pleased to see it fits.” Long fingers trace the lines of your necklace top before toying with the ends of the pink boy. 
You stiffen beneath his touch, eyeing the sheathed dagger across his chest. 
Do sacrificial ceremonies require specific clothing? 
Maybe dressing a sacrifice up in pretty ornaments and clothing proves to their deity its value. 
Either way, you hope it’s fast. The Na’vi are trained killers, but at least they should know how to end a life swiftly. 
“I would be pleased to see the resources you promised.” The Colonel bites back.
Neteyam sighs and purses her lips as if the small army around them is simply an annoyance instead of a threat. 
“Trades are not historically present between the Omatikaya and your people. I am not opposed to taking instead. Remember that.” 
You can hear the shifting guns behind you. The Colonel’s anger boils through the air and you are surprised to find no smart response coming from him. Neteyam leisurely tugs the ends of the bow, perfecting its shape and you are mortified to feel your nipples tighten beneath them. He nods his head and a few armed Na’vi step forward and hesitantly hand over a few tubes of minerals.
You recognize it as unobtanium, most likely the small amount left to mine from the last Home Tree. Your eyes widen. All of that for you? 
It wouldn’t be enough to make the RDA’s trip a success but it would surely cut down the financial loss significantly. But why give it over? Just to kill you? Had their deity sent out a bounty on your head and if so, what had you done to piss Her off so immensely?
“As promised.” Neteyam rises back to full height, hands settling on his hips. “I trust you understand what is to come to those who do not honor this agreement.” 
“Consider her a…peace offering. A special gift from the RDA.” You can hear the smirk in Quaritch’s tone, even the chuckle that Loyd fights to hold back. Your teeth dig into the fabric gag, praying more than ever that now would be the one time you would be able to rip him a new one. 
Your own special gift before you leave this life. 
“I tire of your presence, demon.” 
Quaritch scoffs but you can already hear the shuffling of retreating boots as they slowly but surely exit the scene. The only home you have ever known and now it is nothing more than a memory. You’re left to the demise of the Na’vi like a shiny object to be collected. 
And with the way Neteyam smiles and studies your form intently, you can’t have found a better analogy. Kneeling once more, large hands cup your cheeks, fingers encasing the whole side of your head. 
“Oeyӓ tiyawn, you are shaking.” He tuts, features softening at breakneck speed. Eyebrows furrowing, you watch closely as he carefully parts the hair from your face. “So nice to meet you, properly that is.” He chuckles, as if telling a joke only he knows the context to. 
Unease tightens your muscles and you’re sure that if your heart rate picks up anymore the organ will simply give out before they even have a chance to kill you. 
He sends a look to the side and instantly the rest of the Na’vi party retreat back into the forest. Your forehead creases. What is a sacrifice without an audience? 
Unless. 
Neteyam’s fingers comb through your hair.
Unless the Olo’eyktan has decided to have his fun with you before you are offered up. 
Tears spill from your eyes and you can’t stop yourself from trying to beg through the gag.
“Oh tiyawn,” His thumbs wipe away your tears. “You do not need to cry anymore. Not now that you are mine.” 
A hiccup catches in your throat, wide eyes looking up at him. 
“My sweet pet.” He husks, lips curved into a prideful smile. 
Your heart drops to your stomach.
Pet. 
How does he even know what that word means? The Na’vi do not keep pets. Perhaps he misspoke. 
But when one large hand circles around the back of your neck and you remember one thing: this man was raised by both Na’vi and Sky People. 
Frantically shaking your head in protest you try to get out words that will convince him to release you. It’s a strained effort with the cloth gag and his giant hand grasping your neck. 
“Mawey, little gift, before you hurt yourself.” He lingers over the cloth gag and for a moment you have hope that he will remove it, instead Neteyam gives you a sympathetic smile. “My poor tiyawn, I would love to remove it but I think we will need to go over some ground rules first. I’ll need you to listen without distraction for that part.” 
Your thoughts tangle into a million knots as vast ideas of what these rules may entail generate frantically. 
It would be easier to believe that a Na’vi has no purpose for a Sky Person as a pet but it’s impossible to miss the lust swimming in his golden orbs. Nor the wandering hands that now come to squeeze your plush hips. 
“You’re even more breathtaking up close.” He grins. When had he seen you from a distance? “Especially in proper clothing.” 
You can barely see through the cloud of tears over your eyes so you miss when Neteyam unsheathes his knife. That is, until you feel the cold material against your ankles. Terror grips your heart but to your surprise the Olo’eyktan cuts the rope around your feet. 
Foolishly you take advantage of this slight freedom only to be snatched around the waist and pulled onto his lap. Neteyam chuckles as if your escape attempt is the cutest thing he has ever seen. Your hips ache slightly at the stretch it takes to straddle one of his muscular thighs. 
“Misbehaving already, hm?” He raises a hairless eyebrow at you, one hand slink down to settle over your rear. Luckily he seems more amused than angry. After all, you have to admit that there was no real chance of you outrunning him in the first place. And now that those muscular arms are locked around you, there is no hope of beating his strength. 
Humiliation runs deep when you feel the first trickle of arousal stain your tiny loincloth. Neteyam’s thigh flexes and your pussy greedily takes the friction as an invitation. His nostrils flare, no doubt taking in your changing scent. 
He doesn’t further your embarrassment, however. At least not yet. 
“My father told me about these.” He muses, fingers playing with the bow once more. “It’s said to represent gifts. I always thought they were silly but now…” Heat runs straight to your core when his thumb dances over one escaped nipple. “I quite like the look of it on you, little gift.” 
A whimper escapes your lips without permission, snagging his attention. 
“Needy little pet, aren’t you?” A dark laugh rumbles his chest as his thumb casually slips underneath to bow to torment one nipple. “Do not worry, oeyӓ tiyawn. I’ll have you seeing stars before the night is through.” 
Everything in your mind says no but Neteyam’s skin is warm and his hands are skilled as one teases your nipples while the other explores your backside. Your body preens into the touch, desperate for some semblance of comfort to hold onto. And in the dangerous atmosphere of Pandoran nights, your instincts tell you that this man is what separates you from death. 
However, you are still held as prey under his gaze. 
“But first I think it is time to get you home.” He leans forwards until your noses are touching. 
“You will be more comfortable in my bed, pet.” 
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And so it begins! As always, I would LOVE to hear your thoughts! <3
unofficial taglist: @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 (thought you might like it, baby) @itchaboi-itchyboy @zafrinaxyz @lilghostiequinni @criticallybella
Please let me know if you would like to be added to the official taglist for future parts
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sparklovespink · 2 months
Note
could you do a big titty gf with Enha (hyung line)?
ENHA HYUNG LINE! --- w/ a big titty gf
18+, cum eating, marking, pervy!enha, tit sucking, tit + body worship, this work is specific about body size
⠀⠀ ⠀myslut masterlist
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HEESEUNG honestly can't get enough of your tits, can't even cuddle you without touching them. always loves to see you in tighter shirts. doesn't care if other guys stare because he's the one who has your tits in his mouth at the end of the day. you're insanely hot, slight bounce in your chest when you walk beside him. you don't even notice how his eyes have lowered, cock twitching in his pants. the size of them almost automatically makes his favorite position is missionary. loves to take you hard and fast, your pussy clenching on his cock while he fucks deep strokes into you. and fuck, the way your tits jiggle while he's hovering over you? he'll grab one, big hand reaching to try and cover all of it but there's still excess spilling from between his fingers. "so good," he'll murmur, mind blank. all he can think about are your boobs. "aww, fuck. look at the way they bounce, baby."
JAY is the big titty king. he loves your tits so much, always needs to have a hand on them. the two of you could be out in public and he's still got his hand near, secretly hooking his arm over you shoulder and squeezing when no one's looking. cameraroll is full of pictures of your boobs because he jerks off to them when he's alone! thick cock throbbing in his fist and he's wishing they were right in front of him. so of course he'll help himself a few hours later, when he's finally at your place. fucks his hard cock between your tits, pretty tip leaving a trail of precum. there's something about the way his cock disappears before he bucks his hips back into the gap between your boobs. "shit, fucking love these tits." he groans. he'll cum on your tits and spread it all over with his hand, scoop some up with a finger and stick it into your mouth. he can only grin as you suck down, tongue twirling around his finger. "bet it tastes better this way, yeah?"
JAKE'S a sucker for boobs. we've already discussed this. all tits are good tits, though big tits have become a comical obsession. hates when you wear bras because he loves to see your hard nipples straining against the fabric of your top, even in public. and then when you ride him, let him sit back while you work yourself on his cock. fuck. you're too good to him, soaked cunt clenching down hard as you fuck yourself onto him. he's groaning, eyes stuck on the way your tits bounce up and down every time you rock. starts to buck up into you once you're tired, because he just can't handle seeing it stop! "fuck," he's grunting, hands tightening on your waist "you look so good– please baby." you're gone, thighs tight and and head thrown back but jake's still got his eyes on your chest, one hand reaching to cup a tit. squeezes hard when he cums, right after you've creamed on his cock, falling onto him with your tits in his face. makes sure to thank you by sucking on them for hours.
SUNGHOON does love small titties (like, obsessively), but he loves them big just as much. if you wear a smaller shirt and let him fuck you, this man swears he'd do anything for you. if he's feeling romantic, he'll lay you down on your back and pepper you with kisses—mark you up starting from below your navel before he traces along between both your tits. licking, kissing, and sucking on your skin until it's starting to bruise, because you just look so pretty dolled up like that! his hard cock twitches against your thigh, left unattended. but it doesn't matter, not when he's completely zeroed in on your boobs. "wanna film you so bad right now," he whispers against your tit, tongue circling around your swollen nipple. "need a video of these pretty things to get me through work." and he's so nasty; when he does fuck you, he pulls out and jerks himself off till he's cum all over your tits.
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makoodles · 1 year
Text
ミdaddy issues
part one | part two
🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader
🍓tags: nsfw, interspecies relationship, jealousy, some mild unwanted touching (not quaritch) second-hand embarrassment, rough face-sitting, p in v sex, size kink
masterlist
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For several days after your little rendezvous with Quaritch, you’re practically walking on air. You may be walking with a slight limp, but still – you’ve never been so satisfied in your whole life. 
Not only have you just had very good sex with the man you’ve been crushing on for months, but the science guys that have been snickering over your embarrassing interest in Quaritch have been rather remarkably silent since. You’re not even as embarrassed as you think you should be, considering all of your co-workers overheard you getting absolutely pounded into the floor by the Colonel; and you know you weren’t quiet about it, either.
You’ve even been able to cover significant ground with your dissertation – thanks to the sample that Quaritch had so generously provided you with, you’ve been able to run tests that you’ve dreaming of for weeks now. The data generated meant that you were able to nearly finish your dissertation.
Things are good. At least, mostly.
That one steamy encounter in your lab certainly isn’t the only one you end up having with Quaritch. In the weeks that follow, you boldly search him out several times during the breaks you take from your research. Once or twice, he’s even come looking for you in the lab. But most often, you find him and he ends up in your quarters – there’s something so thrilling about having him there, so big and exotically alien with all of his intense focus on you. You get so delightfully familiar with his mouth, his rough textured tongue, his enormous ridged cock, his large, thick-fingered hands. 
You could never have dreamed of your silly crush blooming into this with him, soft touches in the privacy of your quarters as he holds you to his big chest after fucking you so good that you practically go cross-eyed. You love having him in your quarters; it’s always a little comical to see his enormous body all curled up on your little human-sized bed, after all. In those quiet moments after sex, you’re able to delight in sharing skin to skin contact with him as he strokes over your much smaller body. It’s peaceful.
The only thing is, other than your little encounters, you hardly see Quaritch at all.
The recoms are busy, you know that, and often they’re sent out into the wilds of Pandora for days or even weeks at a time. Quaritch is an important man, and he’s got a lot on his plate. So for the most part, you only really see him from a distance. 
And it’s fine, really. It’s not like you had really expected things to change dramatically between you. He had told you very clearly that he wasn’t looking for anything romantic or anything like that; besides, he doesn’t exactly strike you as the romantic type. 
It’s silly to be disappointed. And yet, you are. You’re not even really sure what you had been expecting after that first time, but you suppose you had just been hoping for something a little more after crushing on him for so long. But you don’t want to be pushy or needy – you’re grateful for what he’s giving you, after all, and you don’t want to ruin the tentative little arrangement between you just because your crush has gotten a little out of hand.
It takes weeks before Geiszler manages to work up the courage to return to your little work room. It’s really just a little storage room filled with unused desks and old lab equipment, but you still feel much more comfortable in that room than in the main lab filled with scientists that side-eye you and openly snicker at you over your involvement with Quaritch. You’d prefer not to face that judgement, especially since those bastards had humiliated you with the dildo stunt already.
The sound of the door sliding open has your head snapping up from your research – you’ve started to associate that door sliding open with Quaritch’s arrival, and you find your stomach dropping a little in disappointment when you realise that it’s Geiszler rather than the Colonel’s familiar big blue body.
“Hey.” He says, shuffling his feet against the linoleum floor. He looks terribly uncomfortable, and pushes his wire-framed glasses up on his nose when they slip down.
You blink at him. Truthfully, you’re a little bewildered to see him. Ever since Quaritch had ordered him out of this same room before he had fucked you right into the floor, Geiszler had been avoiding you. In fairness, you hadn’t made much of an effort to seek him out either, but usually you didn’t have to. He was a pretty constant presence around the lab, and he usually sat with you at mealtimes too; his absence has been obvious.
“Hi.” You say, blinking stupidly at him.
Geiszler clears his throat and steps around some of the unused desks, approaching you where you sit. 
“I, uh…” He trails off for a second, before he seems to rally himself. “I thought I’d check in on you. See how you were doing.”
That throws you, and all you can do is stare at him in bewilderment. “Oh. Um… That’s nice of you. Yeah, I’m doing good.”
You’re not altogether certain of where you stand with Geiszler, either. Before the dildo incident, you think that you would call yourselves tentative friends. But now, things are undeniably awkward.
“Good. That’s good.” Geiszler is nodding. He leans his hip against your desk, but he can’t quite seem to meet your eyes. “Listen… I wanted to apologise.”
That makes you pause, and you squint at him.
“For what? The dildo thing? You already apologised for that.”
He laughs, but it’s high-pitched and obviously nervous. “Right, yeah. Um… it turned out pretty good for you though, I guess. So no harm done, right?”
“Other than my dignity being irreparably damaged?” You ask drily.
“Well,” Geiszler’s awkward smile melts into a cheeky grin – it’s a look that’s much more familiar to you than the oddly contrite expression he had been wearing before. “I don’t think the dildo did any more damage to your dignity than the fact that everyone could hear you encounter the real thing.”
Your mouth drops open. It’s not that the words themselves have shocked you (you knew that they had heard, on some level), it’s the fact that Geiszler is bold enough to actually say it to your face after so much awkwardness. Still, you can’t help but laugh.
“Okay,” You giggle, returning his grin. “Fair enough.”
Geiszler’s whole face seems to relax at that, as though he’s impossibly relieved that you’re able to laugh over it now. Some of the awkwardness seems to leak out of his demeanour too, which is a relief. The atmosphere is a little more natural between you now, like it was before the whole dildo incident.
Tentatively, he reaches for a chair and drags it over so that he can sit next to you at your desk. He’s a little closer than usual, but you don’t pay him much mind. It’s a bit of a relief, actually – you don’t have any real friends, and most of the science guys don’t take you seriously at all. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, even if he is a bit of a dick.
“Am I forgiven?” He asks, his eyebrows raising hopefully. “Friends again?”
You roll your eyes, but you’ve softened already. You can’t even be all that annoyed considering that his stupid stunt had ended up with you getting dicked down by the finest man you’ve ever met in your whole life. Besides, friends are in short supply here – you don’t want to alienate the only one you actually have.
“Yeah.” You grumble, though your mouth is quirked up in a little grin. “Fine. Friends.”
Geiszler brightens up, before running a hand through his hair in a nervous sort of gesture. Despite the fact that much of the awkwardness has dissipated, Geiszler still looks oddly jittery.
“So,” He says in a would-be casual tone. “You and Quaritch, huh?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you turn hastily back to your research in an attempt to look busy. You flounder for a moment, clumsily attempting to reorganise your papers.
“Hm?” You ask, trying to pretend like you hadn’t heard him in the hopes that he’ll drop the subject.
“Oh, don’t give me that,” Geiszler laughs. His chair squeaks against the floor as he shuffles forward, even closer to you. “Come on! I was practically the matchmaker, right? You gotta give me some details, here.”
Your skin is prickling with mortification now, though you try to swallow it down and act unaffected. It’s only Geiszler asking, after all. 
“Um…” You clear your throat, flustered. “There’s really not that much to say.”
“How accurate was the dildo?”
“Geiszler!” You deliver a sharp stinging smack to his shoulder and he yelps, jolting away from you. “You absolute pervert-”
“I thought we were friends-!” He yells back, but he’s visibly laughing. “Come on, it stays between us! You can tell me!”
He’s so stupid. And yet, you’re hesitating a little. Being one of the very few women on the team of xenobotanists can be tough, even more so when you’re also one of the youngest and you haven’t even gotten your doctoral qualification yet. It can be lonely, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t terribly eager for somebody to talk to about things.
“It-” You begin, flushed hot with embarrassment. “He- I mean, um. It was pretty accurate. There were some things you missed, though.”
Geiszler pulls a funny sort of face, before his expression settles into one of mock thoughtfulness. “I see. So… you did end up using that dildo then?”
You choke, turning on him again. He dodges back before you can slap at his shoulder again, but his grin has gotten impossibly wider.
“Don’t be fucking weird about it.” You complain, turning your face away from him so he can’t see your face. “Miles has already given me enough shit about it-”
“Oh, Miles, huh?” Geiszler is still grinning, and he shuffles closer again now that he’s no longer in danger of being smacked. “Damn, you’re calling the Colonel Miles now?”
You breathe out a nervous laugh, flustered and embarrassed. “I guess. Not in public, obviously.”
“Why not?” Geiszler asks immediately, leaning forward over your desk and leaning his elbow on the tabletop so he can rest his chin in his palm. “He doesn’t want to show you off? He certainly wasn’t trying to hide it when he was in here before-”
“Jesus, stop fucking talking about that,” You hiss, scowling at him. “It was like one time-”
“You know, the walls in this room are pretty thin, and everyone in the main lab can hear when he-”
“Okay, okay,” You say quickly. “So it was a couple of times! Whatever!”
Geiszler giggles. His fingers are tapping repeatedly against the desktop as though he’s nervous, though his grin is still bright as ever. 
“So…” He says slowly, “What’s up with you guys, then? Are you, like, together now?”
You bite at your lower lip as you consider his question, pushing your research to the side so that you can rest your elbows on the desk. That really was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?
“Nah,” You murmur, fingers picking absently at a stray bit of paper. “Don’t think he wants anything serious.”
“But you do?”
“Fucking hell,” You turn to give him a side eye, but soften it with a little smile. “What’s with the third degree, huh? You’re worse than the RDA-mandated therapists.”
Geiszler laughs, but obediently backs off. “Sorry, sorry. Can’t blame me for being curious, can you?”
You suppose you can’t, so you just hum non-committedly. It is a strange situation, you suppose.
“Whatever,” You say with a sigh, before waving your hands in a shooing motion. “Go on, get out of here. I have work to do.”
Geiszler does as he’s told, pushing himself away from the desk as his gaze darts over the structured mess of your desk.
“Sure, sure.” He says good-naturedly. “Still working on the dissertation? You nearly done?”
“Yeah.” You beam reflexively, impossibly proud of all your hard work. “The sample that the recoms brought me has been such a lifesaver! I’ll be able to submit everything this week, I think!”
“Hey, that’s amazing!” Geiszler says, reaching out to clap you cheerfully on the shoulder. “Really awesome! You deserve it. We should celebrate after!”
You hesitate for a split-second, a little bewildered about the way his hand is lingering a little oddly on your back. But then he pulls away, and you decide you were probably imagining it.
“Right!” You say, smiling. “Sure.” 
Geiszler shoots you a blinding grin along with some finger guns, which is a gesture that’s so cheesy that you have to fight not to visibly cringe. With that he leaves you alone once more, so that you can return to burying your head in your research, forcing all thoughts of your relationship (or lack of it) with Quaritch out of your mind for good.
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Friday evening marks a full week since you’ve seen Quaritch.
It’s not unusual, exactly, considering his work and yours usually keep you occupied in different sections of the base entirely, but still. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been hoping that he would come and see you at some point during the week. You’re overly aware of the fact that it’s almost always you seeking him out, and so rarely the other way around.
You’re even more aware of this after your conversation with Geiszler – it’s not that he had said anything surprising, but just talking about it had highlighted the fact that you really weren’t sure where you stood with Quaritch at all. Now that you’ve started thinking about it, you just can’t stop. 
Would it be selfish to ask for more? Is it presumptuous to hope that he might be willing to offer more? What would you do if he turned you down? Fuck, how would you recover from that?
In the end, you decide to leave the matter for now. It can be a topic of discussion for another time.
But then Friday afternoon rolls around, and you hit a milestone. After three long years of arduous research, your doctoral thesis has been submitted. It’s a momentous occasion, and yet you find yourself alone in your lab with no one to celebrate with.
The sensible thing would probably be to go and find Geiszler. He’s a co-worker, and a tentative friend, and he has experience with the very same process you’ve just gone through – plus, he’s already made you a promise to celebrate with you! 
It would probably be a better idea to stick to building upon the budding friendships in the science department – but instead you find yourself slipping out of the lab and wandering down the halls, your mind set on finding one person in particular.
Despite how little you’ve seen of him recently, Quaritch isn’t actually a difficult man to find. 
Bridgehead City may be an enormous, sprawling structure, but the recoms are encouraged to stay close to the medical and science wings just in case something goes wrong. Many of the facilities in this part of the base have been built to accommodate their much larger Na’vi bodies; the gym being one of them.
Like most of the facilities, a separate section has been built in the gym containing appropriate equipment for the recoms. You need to strap an exo-pack mask over your face so that you can breathe the air in there, but then you slip into the room with no problem. You’re not even particularly out of place in the enormous gym; there are several other human scientists milling around with datapads, though they’re clearly observing and taking notes on the recoms’ athletic performance.
You spot Quaritch near the back of the gym. He’s impossible to miss, really. Even if he weren’t nine-feet-tall and bright blue, you’re certain you’d be able to locate him based on the sheer amount of overwhelmingly commanding energy that pours off him at any given moment – his presence fills the room.
You pick your way around the enormous gym equipment, trying not to feel like a child in a playground. Overall, you do a pretty good job at not being noticed. You don’t think you could handle another encounter with his squad; you’ve done your absolute utmost to avoid all of them ever since the dildo fiasco.
As you approach Quaritch, you begin to falter. He’s lifting weights, all stretched out across the bench press with his thin vest clinging to his chest. Though a single barbell probably outweighs you, the motion looks effortless. There’s the faintest glimmer of sweat across his brow, but otherwise he hardly seems to be affected by the exertion at all other than the occasional grunt he lets out. You get a little distracted by the way his biceps flex and bunch with every curl of his arms.
Fuck, what are you even doing here? Why would he even care about your stupid dissertation? What are you hoping to achieve with this?
Your steps falter, and then movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. It’s one of the recoms – Lopez, you think – watching you with curious eyes. He turns and murmurs something to Z-dog beside him, who turns to look at you too before nudging him with a grin. 
Your face grows hot, mortified; you’re unwillingly reminded of the way Wainfleet and Fike had snickered at you that day in your little workroom.
Embarrassed, you force yourself to close the last bit of remaining distance between you and the Colonel. You’ve come this far anyway, and you can’t face the thought of his squad watching you chicken out.
He looks up as you approach, and you can see surprise register on his face as his ears press back against the sides of his head. With one last heave, he sets his weights back on the bar before pushing himself up into a sitting position on the bench press.
“Hey, kid,” He greets, his elbows resting on his thighs as he watches you approach. “What’re you doing here?”
You step up to the bench press, close enough that you can admire the way a couple beads of sweat glisten on his smooth, muscled chest. Even after all the times you’ve seen him completely naked, you still get flustered when you’re faced with how impossibly attractive he is.
“I finished it,” You murmur to him quietly, hyper-aware of the stares your appearance in the gym has started to garner from the members of his team that are training at various points around the room. “My dissertation, I mean.”
You’re expecting a dismissal, or a half-hearted congratulations maybe. You’re not expecting Quaritch’s face to relax into a genuine little grin, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he tilts his head to look at you. 
“Yeah? Nice job, princess.”
You flush, growing warm and flustered from the praise. “Well, I’ve only just submitted it. I’ll have to go through the thesis defence, but hopefully they’ll be able to speed that process up.”
Quaritch is watching your face, his big golden eyes assessing as he evaluates every little expression of yours. It’s always intimidating to be under his scrutiny like this, but a little part of you is flattered to be the sole recipient of his attention like this every time.
“Smart girl.” He murmurs at last, mouth quirking. “This mean you can stop spending so much time in that dirty little room?”
You snort, amused despite yourself. “No. That dirty little room is my space. It’s easier to work there by myself than with the other guys in the main lab.”
Quaritch’s eyes narrow, and he leans forward a little. “Those little pubes still bothering you?”
You think back to your conversation with Geiszler from earlier that week – it had gone well, and you’ve seen him almost every day this week. He’s hardly teased you at all about Quaritch, in fact, which is the opposite of what you had expected. He’s been very respectful and very work-appropriate.
“No, actually.” You say with a satisfied sort of smile. “Everything is good.”
Quaritch grunts softly in acknowledgement, before sitting up a little straighter. “Why don’t I drop by the lab later? I’ve got a few things to finish up here.”
You can’t help the way your stomach wobbles, butterflies fluttering wildly in your belly. You’re almost embarrassed about the effect he has on you, but not embarrassed enough considering you’re still smiling dopily up at him.
“Yeah,” You breathe. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
Quaritch’s smile turns cocky, his mouth curving up as he watches your reaction. “Yeah?”
You grin back, and try not to nod too eagerly. You can still feel the eyes of Quaritch’s squad on you, watching intently as you converse quietly with their superior office. Curiosity is practically radiating off them, and you’re sure there are more than one pair of twitching ears trying to listen in on your conversation.
“Was that all?” Quaritch asks, “Or did you just come here to see me?”
Ah, busted. Your grin turns a little bashful, and you scratch absently at your elbow.
“I just wanted to tell someone about my dissertation, I guess.” You say with a little shrug.
Quaritch hums, amused, before pushing himself up from the bench to his full, impressive height. Suddenly, you find yourself eye level with his belt, and you have to tilt your head all the way back to be able to look him in the eye.
“You did good, girl.” He says, reaching out to pat you on the shoulder. “Well done.”
His hand lingers, his long fingers curling around your shoulder and resting along the back of your neck. It’s the kind of touch that makes you shiver a little, and you lean into his hand just to feel the heat of his skin against yours. It puts you in mind of the back pat Geiszler had given you earlier; you wonder how it’s possible for the same gesture to feel so unbelievably different from two different people.
You smile, bright and joyful. His praise settles low and warm in your belly, making you feel weightless and airy. The effect he has on you is a little embarrassing, but you don’t even care. You’re lost in the moment, staring up at his sharp-boned, handsome face as you revel in his approval. 
You clear your throat. “I’ll, um.. I’ll see you later, then?”
“Yeah,” Quaritch removes his hand from your shoulder, to your dismay. “See you then, kid.”
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Despite the fact that you’ve already seen him, you take a little time to fix yourself up that evening as you await Quaritch’s arrival. You’ve changed into one of your cute little dresses under your lab coat, and you add a little bit of makeup and fix your hair. You just want to look pretty for him.
You’re just adjusting some of the gloss at the corner of your lips when the doors to your little work room slide open. You hurriedly put down your lipgloss and turn to the door with a smile on your face; it falters when you see that it’s Geiszler who has just stepped in.
“Oh,” You say, surprised. “Hey.”
Geiszler smiles back at you as he saunters his way into the room; bizarrely, he looks nervous.
“Hey!” He greets, a little more upbeat than usual. “Congratulations on the thesis!”
“Oh, thank you!” You relax, realising now why he’s here. “God, it hardly even feels real, you know.”
Geiszler just chuckles; just like last time, he grabs a chair and drags it over so that he can sit close to you. His eyes are darting over your face, and you try not to get self-conscious about it; you can only guess that he’s eyeing the way you’ve prettied yourself up with makeup.
“I brought you this,” He clears his throat, and brings his arm out from behind his back. You hadn’t even noticed that he was attempting to hide a large bottle in his hands. “Uh… Steiner from exobiology has been brewing his own vodka with some of the freeze-dried potatoes we brought from Earth. Here – it’s a congratulations present.”
When he places the bottle on the table, you accept it with a gracious if not surprised smile. It’s a rarity to get something like this, and the idea of being gifted vodka on an alien planet is a total novelty. You grin as you peer at the clear liquid inside the glass bottle.
“Damn, thank you!” You say with a short little chuckle. “This was a lovely thought.”
Geiszler seems pleased with your reaction, though he just shrugs his shoulders as though it’s no big deal. “Yeah, well, I figured I owed you something nice after being a dick to you before.”
You try not to sigh. It seems like he’s just going to keep bringing that up, no matter how many times you try to get him to drop it. 
“Well, thanks.”
Geiszler leans forward, planting his elbows on the desk beside you. He’s very close to you now, close enough for you to start side-eyeing him but not close enough for you to really justify pulling away. 
“You look nice.” He says simply, offering you another little smile. “I’m guessing you have plans for the evening?”
You clear your throat, but you can’t help the little smile that’s starting to creep over your face. “Yeah. I’m just waiting-”
“For Quaritch?” Geiszler interrupts you, though his voice is still casual and his expression doesn’t change. “Well, he’s a lucky man. Is it date night? He taking you somewhere nice?”
Your smile falters a little. No, it’s not date night. Quaritch has been clear from the start that he doesn’t want anything like a relationship, and he’s been true to his word this whole time. He comes around for sex, and it’s very good sex, but sex is all it ever is. And that’s fine! You’re fine with just the sex! But you have to admit, some part of you yearns for a little more than that.
“Um, no.” You say at last, swallowing and hitching your smile back up. “No, nothing like that. Just a quiet night in, probably.”
Judging by the eyebrow raise, Geiszler is perfectly capable of translating between the lines. He gives you a sympathetic look, the type that makes irritation prickle all up the back of your neck, before leaning in just a little closer as he drops his voice.
“I know you like him,” He begins, his voice lowering to a murmur despite the fact that the two of you are alone in your little work room. “But is this really what you want? Someone that won’t even take you on dates? That only uses you as something to fuck?”
Your spine stiffens, your eyes growing wide. What the fuck? The sheer boldness of his words takes you by surprise, and all you can do for a long moment is stare at him. 
He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, is the first thing that crosses your mind, irritated and dismissive. But then you pause, and bite at your lip. It’s not something you want to admit to yourself, but he does have somewhat of a point. 
Is it unreasonable to hope for more from the Colonel? He had told you straight out that he didn’t want anything from you the day of the dildo incident, but then he had contradicted himself when he had returned to your lab barely a week later with a brand new sample of panopyra fluid before promptly fucking you stupid right there on the workroom floor. He had never brought up your relationship status (or lack thereof) again, though you felt like his silence on the matter spoke volumes.
It’s not selfish to wish quietly for a deeper level of intimacy with the man you’re so damn infatuated with, is it? You want to be able to hold his big hands, to comfort him when he’s stressed, to tell him about your day, to share a bed and just sleep, to go on dates. They’re thoughts that you’ve been trying hard to keep stifled for the past several weeks for exactly this reason – you just knew that if you allowed yourself to think them, they would consume you.
Now that Geiszler has opened this can of worms, you end up shifting uncomfortably on your stool. As if he can see your doubt, he leans in yet again.
“Don’t you think you’ve gotten him out of your system by now?” He asks, so quietly that you almost have to strain to hear him. 
You open your mouth hesitantly, but you never get to make a reply. The sound of the door sliding open behind causes you to jolt in surprise; for the first time you realise just how close Geiszler has gotten to you, and you lean hastily away.
You shove yourself off the stool you’ve been sitting on, and whirl around to find that Quaritch has finally shown up.
“Miles,” You breathe, reaching to smooth down your dress. “Hey.”
Quaritch steps inside your dingy little workroom, ducking down so that he can fit through the doorway. You can see him physically pause when he catches sight of Geiszler. It seems to take a moment for him to actually place him, but when he does recognition settles darkly over his face.
“Hey, kid.” He greets, though he doesn’t look away from Geiszler. “What are you up to?”
You clear your throat again, and fight not to fidget with your fingers. You feel bizarrely guilty, which is stupid. There’s nothing wrong with talking to Geiszler, and there’s nothing wrong with questioning where you stand with Quaritch. 
“Nothing!” You say, but it comes out much too quickly to be entirely believable. 
His big golden eyes flick in your direction, and you find yourself struggling to meet his stare. He’s so good at reading your thoughts by your expression alone, and you’re embarrassed about this. 
There’s a brief silence, and then Quaritch steps forward again. He has to walk with his head ducked and shoulders hunched in order to avoid hitting the ceiling; this room is much smaller than the main lab, and was never intended for bodies as large as his. You watch him approach, your stomach tightening in the same anticipatory knot you always get when he’s close. You’re only distantly aware of the way that Geiszler shuffles to the left, adding about an inch of distance between you.
You’re still a little flustered from your conversation with Geiszler, and you find yourself scrambling a little bit as Quaritch comes closer. You reach out and grab at the bottle Geiszler had gifted you and hold it up.
“Look, Geiszler brought a gift! Isn’t this cool?” You babble. “It’s vodka! Made from- uh, potatoes!”
Quaritch has grown accustomed enough to your mannerisms in the past couple of weeks that your nervous babbling doesn’t phase him in the slightest. He drops into a crouch next to you, his movements as quick and graceful as a cat, before reaching out to grasp your wrist so he can get a better look at what you’re holding.
“Well, would ya look at that.” He says. His tone is perfectly mild, yet when his eyes slide over to Geiszler they flash a little darker. “He certainly does like bringing you presents, don’t he?”
Geiszler has grown a little pale, and he shoots a quick glance your way. You just smile at him – Quaritch can be a little scary, sure, but you know that Geiszler doesn’t really have anything to worry about. Most likely, he’s just a little irritated still about the whole dildo situation.
“It was a lovely thought.” You say, placing the bottle back on the tabletop. “I haven’t had alcohol since I came to Pandora.”
Geiszler visibly brightens. “Nah, it was nothing. You’ve been working so hard, you deserve some kind of reward.”
You beam, delighted. It feels great to have your hard work recognised, especially after so long working with much older scientists that have treated you like nothing more than an intern. 
Beside you, Quaritch shifts, and you startle a little when his arm comes around your back as a warm weight plants itself on your ass. You can feel the heat of his palm and fingers through the fabric of your lab coat and dress, and you struggle to stifle the physical shiver that runs through you when he squeezes a little.
You glance up at him, but he’s not even looking at you; his eyes are still fixed on Geiszler, hardly even blinking. He reminds you a little of a jungle predator, the line of his body taut with barely restrained danger.
Your face grows hot, but you don’t move away from him. His hand remains firmly planted on your asscheek. It doesn’t feel like he has any plans to move it. 
You clear your throat a little as you attempt to continue the conversation as though Quaritch isn’t currently unashamedly groping you.
“Well, thank you.” You murmur, hoping that your smile doesn’t seem too strained. “I still can’t believe I’m gonna get my doctorate.”
“It’s well-deserved.” Geiszler’s voice is oddly soft, almost uncharacteristically so. “You’ll be the sweetest botanist we have, I think.”
That seems like a bizarrely condescending thing to say, and your brow pinches a little. You think he means it as a compliment, but it’s yet another reminder that the other scientists don’t really seem to see you as being on the same level as them.
Quaritch has been strangely quiet up until this point, content to simply stare Geiszler down with his big yellow eyes, but that comment makes him snort.
“Oh, don’t let the sweetness fool ya,” He drawls, his upper lip peeling up in a smirk to reveal sharp teeth. “Girl’s a brat.”
You jolt, swinging your head around to stare up at him in disbelief. For a moment, you wonder if you had misheard him, but his smirk is unmistakably challenging as he watches Geiszler for a reaction.
“Miles!” You hiss, mortified.
Quaritch finally looks away from Geiszler, just so he can roll his head around and blink down at you. He doesn’t look sorry in the least; in fact, he just grins at you.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” He asks, his tone falsely sugar-sweet. “You’re not usually so embarrassed.”
You stare at him, wide-eyed and bewildered. Your cheeks are still hot, and bizarrely you find yourself growing a little hyper-aware of how attractive he is. Your eyes dart over his high cheekbones and big eyes, the deep blue of his skin and the pretty white bioluminescent dots freckled across his nose. His big hand flexes, encompassing the whole swell of your ass, and you take a breath.
You look away hastily, having lost the thread of your thoughts, and your eyes find Geiszler once more. The look he’s giving you is significant, his eyebrows raised behind his large wide glasses, and you’re struck again by what he had said earlier.
‘Is this really what you want? Someone that won’t even take you on dates? That only uses you as something to fuck?’
Flushed, you look down at your feet. God, you really can’t help yourself, can you?
“Alright, why don’t you head out now?” Quaritch says above you, tossing a quick look Geiszler’s way.
His glower is unmistakable, and Geiszler flinches a little under the heavy weight of it. He takes a step back as though he can’t help himself, before darting a glance in your direction.
“Right. Yeah. Um,” Despite the way he’s visibly cowering slightly in Quaritch’s presence, Geiszler still manages to gather enough courage to shoot you a smile. “Congratulations again. We’ll celebrate another time, right?”
“Yeah.” You nod, offering him a tight smile. “Sure.”
Geiszler’s smile turns more genuine as he walks backwards towards the door, as though putting additional space between him and Quaritch is making him a little braver. 
“Hey, think about what I said!” He calls once he’s at the door, just before he ducks out of the room. “See you tomorrow!”
There’s a long moment of silence as the door slides shut behind him. You’re biting at your lip, brow furrowed – as much as you’d like to put his words firmly out of your head, you know that it’s going to stick with you for the foreseeable future.
Movement at your side pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up to find Quaritch scowling at the door that Geiszler has disappeared out of.
“I do not like that guy.” He grumbles, nose twitching. 
You laugh a little breathlessly, unable to help yourself. “He’s not so bad.”
Quaritch turns his head to look at you, his expression one of firm disbelief. “What? Is he not the slimy little creep that gave you that sex toy you were all upset over?”
The memory makes your skin prickle with remembered humiliation, and you roll your eyes in an attempt to appear casual.
“I was upset because you and your squad of morons ruined my research, not over the dildo.” You mumble, finally stepping away from him. “Besides, I thought you liked that dildo – it helped me get ready for you, didn’t it?”
Usually that would be enough to distract him, but it seems like Geiszler’s presence has gotten under his skin more than you realised. You had forgotten that Quaritch had such a dislike for the scientists that work around Bridgehead; his remarks about your research and your interest in xenobotany has always been mostly teasing, after all.
“I seem to remember you throwing things, kid.” He reminds you, lowering himself a little further so he’s at eye-level with you. “You tellin’ me that was just for me?”
You breathe a short laugh, glancing away. As much as you love looking at his big handsome face, you find it difficult sometimes to maintain eye contact with him. He’s just so intense about everything, and you feel as though you’re being examined.
“Well, maybe you push my buttons more than he does.”
Quaritch makes an odd little grunting sound, his eyes still flicking over your face. He’s sat back on his hunkers in front of you, though he reaches out and places a large hand against your waist. You lean into his touch on reflex, enjoying the pleasant heat of his palm through your clothes.
“What was that he was saying?” He asks, his voice low. “Was he bothering you before I arrived?”
“No,” You say quickly, averting your eyes. “No, that was nothing.”
There’s a brief pause. You can feel him studying you, that pretty golden gaze boring into the side of your face. You half expect him to keep pushing, to demand a proper response from you, and you’re a little surprised when no such demand comes. Instead, his long fingers curl into your clothes, bunching it up a little bit in his hand.
“You tellin’ me the truth, sweetheart?” He murmurs. His tone makes it clear that he already knows the answer to his own question.
“Yeah,” You keep your smile hitched up on your face, though it takes a little effort. “Of course. Will we head out, then?”
Another pause, this one longer than the last. 
“Alright.” He drawls at last, pulling hand away from you as he stands. “Let’s go then.”
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The tiny seed of doubt in your mind starts to bloom into full blown apprehension over the following days. 
The evening you had with Quaritch had been lovely – it still amazes you how he can be so charming one moment and then the next moment have you all tied up in knots around his cock as he pounds you stupid into your own standard-issue lumpy mattress.
In some ways, your crush was easier to handle before you started hooking up with Quaritch. At least back then you weren’t ever really concerned about rejection – you had never expected to get far enough with him that rejection might be a reality, after all! Now, you find yourself perturbed at the thought that he could lose interest at any moment; and that’s assuming he had any interest in the first place. You were the one who had been throwing yourself at him, after all.
Maybe, you think to yourself, it’s best to give him some space.
For the first time in months, you stop seeking Quaritch out. You don’t go looking for him in the gym so you can watch him work out, you don’t try to grab seats close to the Recom area in the cafeteria so you can watch him during mealtimes, you don’t go searching for him in the evening times so you can coyly invite him back to your quarters, you don’t stand waiting in the hangars when the Recom squad are returning from their scouting missions on Pandora in the hopes of catching sight of him. 
You had been aware on some level that it had mainly been you seeking him out, but now that you’ve stopped you’re disheartened to find that Geiszler had been right. Quaritch doesn’t come looking for you at all – maybe it’s true that he was only interested in you on a sexual basis. And even then, it’s only because you offer yourself to him. Does he think you’re easy? God, you probably come across as so desperate. Does he think you’re pathetic?
Either way, it’s a little disheartening. But whatever. It’s fine. You’re fine.
A week and a half after you first started to keep to yourself, Geiszler starts lingering around your workroom. At first, it’s kind of nice to have a bit of company as you work. He asks questions about your research, which you answer eagerly and with great enthusiasm, and even helps you to prepare for your thesis defence.
But by the end of that week, his presence starts to grate on your nerves a little. He babbles constantly, and no matter how hard you try to tune him out it’s like having nonstop noise playing in the background.
“Hey, how come you don’t join the rest of us back in the main lab?” He asks one afternoon. 
He’s lounging on one of the spare chairs, his feet thrown up on a disused desk. He looks very at ease, and you try not to allow your irritation to show; this is your space, and it’s difficult not to grow disgruntled at the constant invasion.
It takes a moment for you to answer.
“Because,” You murmur slowly, scratching out a quick memo in your notes. “You guys are assholes. You laugh at me all the time, and I know that you all think I’m not as smart as you.”
“Oh, come on.” Geiszler says with a short laugh, leaning his chin into his hands. “You know we don’t mean anything by it-”
“Yes, you do.” You mumble without looking up. “It’s obvious. I have to work so much harder than any of you, but it hardly ever matters. It doesn’t matter how many hours I put in, or how good my research is. I know you guys just see me as a silly little girl that doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
Geiszler just blinks at you for a moment. Maybe he expects you to be angrier than you are; but you’ve already experienced years of this. More than anything, you’re just tired of it.
“Come on,” He says at last, leaning forward with an ingratiating little smile. “I don’t think that’s fair.”
“No?” You murmur absently, flipping a page. “Then why is it that you guys never ask me about my work? My research? My interests? My experiences? The only thing you guys ever talk about when I’m around is how silly I am for crushing on the Colonel. First you laughed about me because you thought I was pathetic, and now you laugh at me because you think it’s weird.”
There’s a brief pause where Geiszler visibly fumbles for a response. His brow furrows, his mouth pursing, as he attempts to gather his thoughts. You don’t look up from your work, but you can practically feel antsy shifting from beside you.
“Oh, that’s not fair.” He says finally, a little weakly. “I mean- okay, so maybe we thought it was a little funny that-” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head, and then changes tactics. “What, are you telling me Quaritch thinks you’re smart?”
That makes you pause, your own brow puckering into a frown. He says it as though it’s a difficult thing to believe, but you’ve never really thought about it. You may have made a fool of yourself in front of Quaritch on several occasions, but he’s never actually made you feel stupid about it. He’s rolled his eyes at you plenty of times, maybe laughed at you a little, but you’ve never gotten the impression that he’s actually questioning your intelligence.
“I think he does.” You murmur, still not looking up. You think of how he had grinned at you when you had shared the news that you had finished your dissertation; he didn’t seem as though he thought you were stupid then.
“It’s Quaritch.” Geiszler points out, his voice thick with disbelief. “Come on! He thinks everyone is stupid! You hardly think you’re the exception?”
You turn to him sharply, eyes narrowing. Your irritation is flaring now, and you find yourself completely unable to hide it.
“Do you seriously think this is helping your point?” You snap. “Like, really?”
Geiszler goes quietly instantly, the picture of guilt. The silence that follows is a little awkward; you turn back to your work, glaring fixedly at your research. You’ve been on Pandora for almost a full year now, and over that time you’ve grown used to the attitude of the guys in the lab. It’s not unusual, after all. You’ve been met with the same kind of derision in plenty of the male dominated work and study spaces you’ve experienced back on Earth. But even though you’ve grown used to being smirked at and talked down to, it really gets on your nerves sometimes.
After several long moments of thick, tense silence only broken by the scritching of your pen on paper and the jittery fidgeting of Geiszler’s hands against the tabletop, he speaks again.
“Sorry.” He says, quietly. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I know you’re upset about him recently.”
You clench your jaw irritably. You don’t like that it’s so obvious how you feel about him, and you like it even less that Geiszler seems to be so interested in it.
“Whatever.” You mumble, turning your face away with a quiet sigh. “It doesn’t really matter, anyway.”
The next silence doesn’t last quite so long, because Geiszler ends up shuffling his chair even closer to you. Your shoulders tense, but you simply watch him out of the corner of your eye. Your friendship with him is somewhat odd; most of the time you think he’s just good company, but sometimes his boldness takes you aback.
“Look, I’m just worried about you,” He says, his voice quiet and urgent. “You keep yourself so isolated here, it can’t be healthy. When’s the last time you socialised with the rest of the xenobotanist team?” 
You hum in false thought. “Think it might have been three weeks ago? When you guys had a conversation for nearly half an hour about the physics of me and Miles fucking as if I wasn’t even there. You know, when Boyd asked if I’d write a report on human/Na’vi sexual compatibility?”
Geiszler winces in acknowledgement. “Yeah, that might’ve been a bit inappropriate.”
You just shoot him a look before returning your attention to your work. It’s not even a conversation worth having, in your eyes. But despite your obvious dismissal, Geiszler doesn’t seem ready to give up.
“You’re not interested in coming to drink with the team, then?” He asks in a wheedling tone, as though he’s talking to a pouting child.
“No.” You say. Your tone is blunt to the point of rudeness, but you’re past caring.
“Well, what about having a drink with me?”
That makes you pause, and you raise your head once more just so you can blink at him. His expression is open and guileless, unchanging even as you blink suspiciously at him. He seems earnest, and for a moment you feel a little guilty. 
Maybe Geiszler does have a point. Shutting yourself up in your makeshift lab away from everyone else certainly hasn’t done you any favours in the friendship department; if anything, it’s done even more damage to the possibility of building up genuine relationships with your co-workers. And Geiszler has been genuinely nice to you, even if he has acted like a total dick on occasion. 
“A drink?” You ask cautiously.
“Yeah,” Geiszler leans forward, clearly seeing your hesitance as an opportunity. “Why not? I can come back this evening with another bottle of moonshine – we can drink it here! We don’t even have to leave the room. It’ll just be a casual hang-out, me and you. You could use a distraction, don’t you think?”
You chew at your lip, thinking. Maybe he’s right – maybe you could use a distraction.
“Yeah. Okay, sure.” You say, trying to muster up some degree of enthusiasm.
Your attempt at levity falls completely flat. Geiszler, bless his heart, doesn’t even seem to notice.
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The alcohol that’s available in Bridgehead is expensive considering it’s usually brewed secretly and against regulations, but it makes up for the price by being so strong that it could damn near blow your head right off.
After only a single drink, you start to feel a little light-headed and giggly. It’s nicer than you had expected. Your dissertation and all of your uncertainty surrounding the Quaritch situation was more stressful than you had fully realised, and the opportunity to relax like this is even nicer than you had expected.
Your legs are thrown up on one of the spare desks as you lounge back in an office chair, laughing openly at the way Geiszler is slurring his words. You may be a little tipsy, but Geiszler is well on his way to being wasted. 
It’s probably inevitable that the conversation turns back to you and Quaritch’s odd little arrangement. You can’t even be irritated about it; your mood is cushioned by the alcohol now, making you a little bit more agreeable to discussing things. Besides, complaining about it is kind of cathartic.
“I just don’t get it, man.” Geiszler is saying, his chin cradled in his hands as he stares at you with wide eyes. He’s clearly had too much of the very strong moonshine; he can hardly sit up straight. “Like… why him?”
You just sigh, tilting your head back so you can stare at the panelled ceiling way above your head. “I don’t know. Would it be very shallow to point out the fact that he’s literally beautiful?”
Geiszler snorts a little drunken laugh, before inclining his head in acknowledgement. “No, that’s fair actually.”
You laugh with him, but only for a moment. Maybe the small glass of moonshine has rotted your brain, because you end up softening as you think of Quaritch and all the illicit little encounters you’ve stolen away with him so far. 
“The Na’vi as a whole are physically attractive,” Geiszler notes, reaching up to push his glasses clumsily up the bridge of his nose. “But why are you so fixated on him? He mostly just ignores you when he’s not trying to screw you.”
You flush at that, a little humiliated. You know he’s likely just protective of you like a good friend should be, but you don’t like how that paints you as some kind of pathetic little idiot that’s just desperate for attention.
“Other than the fact that he’s biologically and physically perfect-” You soldier on even as Geiszler snorts at your words, “He’s gentle with me. I don’t necessarily think I’d call him sweet, but… I think he could be, if he wanted to.”
There’s a brief silence. Geiszler nods, lips pursed in an expression of exaggerated drunken thoughtfulness as he seems to mull this information over. After a long moment, he starts to snicker.
“I can’t lie, man, that’s not very cool. You’re clinging onto this guy because he could be sweet if he wanted to? Damn.” He drawls. “I mean, it’s Quaritch. I don’t think sweet is in his vocabulary, unless he’s making fun of you.”
It seems like the moonshine has gotten rid of the last remnants of Geiszler’s filter. You’re in a difficult position to argue, too, because he’s sort of right.
You just sigh. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
That seems to encourage him. He takes another deep gulp of his drink, wincing at the taste, before shuffling a little closer to where you’re sitting.
“I do have another question,” He says slowly, a tiny grin beginning to grow across his face. “How did it… you know… Fit?”
You nearly choke at that question, a horrified laugh bubbling out of your mouth. 
“Oh my god, don’t ask me questions like that, you little creep!” You slap at his shoulder, hard.
He yelps and pulls away, but now he’s laughing too. “Alright, alright! Can’t blame a man for being a little curious!”
Despite the topic of conversation, you find yourself feeling at ease. It’s comfortable sitting here and sharing a drink in your little lab like this; it’s the first time since you’ve arrived on Pandora that you’ve really felt like you have a friend. It’s nice.
Geiszler is still smiling, but his eyes have a somewhat serious gleam to them when he turns to you again. There’s a beat of silence, during which the easy and comfortable atmosphere seems to shift a little. The air turns a little more intense, and all of a sudden you find yourself growing somewhat uncomfortably aware of how close he’s actually sitting to you.
“Hey,” He murmurs with a soft sigh. “I know we’re joking about it, but you really do deserve better. You know that, right?”
You glance down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. You guess you do know that, on some level, but you’ve never truly had a crush this intense on anyone before — and you’ve certainly never actually had anyone on his level interested in you before, even if that interest only extends so far as taking what he wants from your body.
“Maybe.” You mumble non-committedly, setting your glass back on the table. It’s almost full still; you don’t particularly want to drink anymore.
Geiszler shuffles in his seat, before reaching out and placing his hand cautiously but firmly across your thigh.
The touch has your back stiffening, your posture going ram-rod straight in your chair as you turn to look at him in disbelief. It’s an unusually intimate touch from him, one that has connotations that are more than friendly. But then he leans in, and ends up practically hanging off your shoulder in an effort to keep his balance.
You relax, if only slightly. Is he so drunk that he hasn’t even noticed where his hand has fallen?
But then Geiszler speaks again, and any thoughts that his hand placement may have been accidental are dashed. “Listen, I’ve… I’ve liked you for a while now. And it’s been kinda tough to see you mooning over Quaritch — I could treat you so much better. I would treat you so much better.”
Your stomach sinks, dread weighing it down heavily until it feels as though it's sitting on the floor. “Oh. Geiszler, I don’t-”
But Geiszler just keeps ploughing ahead.
“The dildo thing was a joke, but I also thought that– well, that maybe you just needed to get that curiosity out of your system. And then you actually got with him, which is fine by the way! I don’t mind! But now I’m thinking that surely you’ve worked out all your curiosity about how Na’vi sex works-”
Your mouth falls open, horrified. Is that what he thought was happening? That you were just ‘working out your curiosity’? Did he really think that your feelings were so inconsequential that they could be gotten over so easily?
“-I thought that, well, since it’s so obvious that Quaritch isn’t interested in you in the same way you are him, that maybe you’d realise it was time to move on. And I know that you’re upset, but I’m right here. And I swear I’d be good to you-”
“Jesus,” You blurt, rearing back.
To your horror, Geiszler just shuffles closer yet again. Maybe the alcohol has given him delusional levels of self-confidence, because he doesn’t even seem to notice how you’re attempting to pull away from him.
“The guys in the lab still laugh over how moony-eyed you get over him, you know,” He says, as though to compound your embarrassment. “Especially considering all he really does is ignore you. I would never do that. I’d never leave lonely like that. I’d– I’d sleep with you every night — And I don't just mean sex! Sex would be great too, obviously, amazing even, but I want you in my bed every night, just sleeping. I want to be able to curl up behind you and hold you close, and I could keep you warm under all the blankets-"
“Fucking hell, Geiszler-” You blurt, attempting to slap his hand away from your thigh. It stays firmly planted, and he just keeps leaning in as he babbles away.
It’s like he’s taken the few minor complaints you had made about your little thing with Quaritch (details that you had only shared because you thought you had been gossiping with a friend!) and used it to fuel his confidence in coming onto you. You can’t even escape because he’s right in front of you; he’s not a particularly large man, but he’s drunk and heavy and leaning on you in such a way that you’re struggling to get out from beneath his weight.
“Stop,” You order firmly, trying to push at his shoulder as gently as you can manage. It seems to have no effect; he just keeps ploughing ahead as though you hadn’t spoken at all.
“I know that it’s not going to be the same as when you’re with Quaritch, obviously,” He says, speaking even quicker now as if he knows you’re going to try and interrupt, “There are some pretty obvious physical differences, but I would make you feel good — I know I would-”
“Geiszler,” You attempt a reasoning sort of tone, but you’re too impatient for it to sound convincing. “Seriously. I– I consider you a friend, but I don’t see you like–”
He doesn’t even let you finish. His face contorts in a frown, cheeks all flushed from the alcohol. Honestly, he looks a little pathetic like this.
“But I’d treat you better than he does.” He says, leaning forward insistently as though he just can’t understand what the problem is. “I actually like you. If it’s– if it’s sexual compatibility you’re worried about-”
“It’s not!”
“I don’t think it’d be a problem! I'd take you gentle and slow and give you everything you deserve. Or I could pull your hair and take you hard if that's what you wanted, either! I’ll do anything you want, honestly.”
You recoil at that, your face scrunching up in distaste. The thought alone makes your body tense; you can’t think of anything less arousing.
Your attention is momentarily pulled away from Geiszler’s pitiful grovelling by a quiet scuffling sound by the door. You glance over, distracted, before doing a goddamn double take. You think for a moment you’re hallucinating, shock and dread pooling in your stomach at the sight of a familiar tall blue figure standing in the doorway.
The sight of Quaritch leaning lazily against the doorframe with his arms crossed nearly makes you scream. You have no idea how long he’s been standing there, but his expression is decidedly unimpressed. 
“Oh.” You blurt, staring at him wide-eyed.
Quaritch doesn’t even say anything. One of his eyebrows just creeps higher, before his eyes wander down over your body and land on Geiszler’s hand clasped around your thigh. His glare hardens, his mouth firming into a thin line.
Embarrassment floods you with prickly heat, and you take a deep, somewhat panicked breath. He has no reason to be angry with you, you tell yourself frantically. This is the first time he’s bothered to come looking for you in weeks!
Besides, you’re not actually doing anything wrong! Quartich had told you clearly that he wasn’t looking for anything serious and had never made any kind of attempt at discussing just what the hell you two were doing together, so it’s not as though he can be surprised that you’ve maybe decided to spend time with someone else. It’s unfortunate that he’s arrived to hear Geiszler’s gross drunken confession, but what can you do?
Geiszler, distressingly, doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re looking over his shoulder with a distinctly horrified expression.
“I just want you to feel good. You can sit on my face – I don’t even care if I can’t breathe-” He rambles his fingers squeezing hopefully around your thigh even as you try to pry his hand off.
Your expression drops, your eyes squeezing shut. The humiliation swells, thick and choking. You feel utterly pinned down and trapped by the combination of Quaritch’s big yellow eyes and the feeling of Geiszler’s sweaty palm clutching at your bare thigh. 
Before you can shut Geiszler down or even point out that you’re not alone anymore, Quaritch pushes himself off the doorframe and steps into the room properly.
“Nice offer,” He drawls, his eyes sharp and bright as he watches Geiszler like a cat stalking a mouse. “But she won’t be needing that.”
The sound of Quaritch’s voice is more effective in getting Geiszler’s hands off you than any of your own protests or pushing, because he whips his hands back and whirls. His movements are sloppy from the alcohol and he nearly overbalances off his chair when he spins around to get a look at who has just walked in.
The blood visibly drains out of Geiszler’s face as he tilts his head back to stare up at the towering form of Quaritch as he steps closer. You can’t blame him; Quaritch looks scary right now, all clench-jawed and sharp-eyed as he stalks forward with curiously animal grace.
And yet, Geiszler seems gripped by what is either drunken bravery or sheer stupidity, because he squares his shoulders and sets his jaw as he stares up at Quaritch.
“Why are you here?” He demands belligerently. “Leave her alone!”
Quaritch tilts his head, before his mouth widens into a mean smile. “I’m not the one sexually harassing her, puke. Why don’t you beat it now, hm?”
You groan quietly, burying your face in your hands. How could things have developed like this? You find yourself burning with humiliation, wishing that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.
Geiszler doesn’t seem to be getting the message at all. He grabs at your waist possessively, heedless of the way you jolt and hiss at him, or the way you try slapping his hands away.
“She doesn’t even want you!” Geiszler declares stupidly, slurring a little.
That declaration doesn’t garner the reaction that Geiszler had been expecting. Quaritch’s expression turns unmistakably amused, his lips tilting up into a smug kind of smirk. He doesn’t even bother arguing back; instead, he reaches forward and takes a hold of the back of Geiszler’s shirt with a single, enormous hand.
It’s almost comical how easily Quaritch is able to lift Geiszler, using his grip on the back of his shirt to haul him into the air like a bold puppy even as he kicks and flails. It doesn’t even seem to take any effort on his part; Quaritch looks bored as he turns and marches Geiszler to the door, before tossing him through the entryway without fanfare.
The door slides shut, and then suddenly you and Quaritch are alone together. His big hand slaps at the button to lock the door, and the hydraulics hiss as the locking mechanisms engage.
Panic seizes you. Fuck. This is what you’ve been hoping to avoid! 
When Quaritch turns back to face you, you blurt out, “What the fuck was that?”
Quaritch pauses. It’s clear that this isn’t the reaction he had been expecting of you, because he sends you a look of pure disbelief, raising his eyebrows so high that his brow wrinkles from the effort of it.
“You better be joking, darlin’.” He says, an edge of warning in his voice as he steps back over to you.
That little hint of danger in his tone is enough to send a shiver down your spine, but you keep your shoulders back and your chin jutted out stubbornly.
“I was handling it.” You say simply, folding your arms across your chest and scowling at him. “He was just drunk and stupid, he didn’t-”
Quaritch snorts, then swiftly closes the distance between you. You hardly even get a chance to react before he’s right in front of you, crouching down so he can talk to you at eye level.
“Don’t tell me he didn’t mean it,” He says, his voice low and full of warning. “I'm surprised he didn't come in his pants the second he touched you. The only thing he's wanted for months now is to get in between your legs.”
He sounds… jealous? It’s almost hard to believe. Only a short time ago, you would have been delighted at the thought. But now, you feel your impatience bubbling up, close to overflowing. He has no right to jealousy!
“What happens between my legs is none of your business,” You snap, your arms tightening defensively over your chest. “I can’t see why the fuck it would matter to you whether he touches me or not.”
Quaritch’s eyes flare wide for a moment, his lips pressed together tight as he watches you intently.
“Don’t take that fucking tone with me,” He warns quietly, his voice low and even and sort of terrifying. “You telling me you let all those cockless little losers touch up on you like that? You telling me that's not my business?”
You almost choke, shocked by the sheer audacity of the man. Though his eyes are still flashing from the warning over your tone, he’s obviously amused by you, as though he thinks this whole conversation is just a little joke.
You narrow your eyes and tilt your chin up boldly as you scowl up at him. “Yes. I could let the whole fucking science department in between my legs, and it still wouldn't be any of your business."
Infuriatingly, that just makes Quaritch laugh. He shuffles closer to you, leaning his head down so close to you that you’re practically breathing each other’s air. One of his hands reaches out and clasps you by your hip, so big and hot as it pins you in place.
“You’re mouthy today,” He murmurs, fangs gleaming as he grins. “Does arguing like this get you wet, kid? You need to work off some steam?” 
Your face floods with heat as embarrassment burns through you. It's crass, but there's no denying that somewhere deep down you sort of do enjoy arguing with him. He never seems to have much patience for folly usually, and yet he meets your slightly bratty behaviour with amusement and a condescending grin. 
Quaritch is watching your expression carefully, and that smug grin only grows at whatever he sees there.
“Oh, you do like it.” He crows softly. “You want me angry, honey? You want to be put in your place?”
His hand drifts lower, coasting over the swell of your ass, and your breath catches in your throat — you nearly choke on it. Under your burning indignation, you feel heat coiling between your legs and you hate it.
“No,” You wheeze out, squirming as he leans in. You’ve ended up trapped between him and the desk behind you, pressed right up against it as he looms closer. “No. I’m angry at you.”
That makes him pause, the progress of his hand sliding down your ass halting. He leans back so that he can look at you properly, and squints at you. His expression is reminiscent of an old man peering at a piece of technology that he can’t work, and that thought has you forcibly biting down a hysterical giggle. The reminder that he’s so much older than you, even in this body, always sends an exciting sort of thrill running through you.
“You’re angry with me.” Quaritch repeats slowly, as though tasting how the words sound in his mouth. He doesn’t appear impressed. “And is this the same reason that you’ve suddenly been avoiding me?”
Ah. So he had noticed your absence. 
You keep your jaw set stubbornly, refusing to be cowed by his big intense eyes and overwhelming presence as he looms over you.
“Maybe.” You say shortly. “I don’t see why it matters.”
Quaritch damn near does a double take at that. He leans back, his brows drawing into a frustrated frown as he peers down at you. His reaction would be comical if you weren’t so busy trying to maintain your own composure.
“The hell..?” He mutters, before leaning back in with a scowl. “What the hell’s the matter with you, huh? For the past few months you’ve been everywhere, watching me every time I turned around, and then all of a sudden you just disappear the last few days and start acting all pissy. What the fuck happened, huh?”
You keep your arms crossed defensively over your chest as you glare at him, growing angry and defensive. He’s still got his hand spread across your ass, which makes it difficult to effectively scowl at him, but you manage all the same.
“You don’t have to act like you care. I get that I’ve been annoying and desperate and pathetic chasing after you, and I get that you’ve been fucking me out of- I don’t know, convenience or pity or whatever-”
“What–”
You plough on before Quaritch can interrupt you. “-But that doesn’t mean that it’s okay to treat me like shit, or to laugh at me–”
“When the fuck have I laughed at you?” Quaritch is clearly struggling to stay calm, but he’s never been a patient person and irritation is creeping very obviously into his demeanour. His shoulders are tense and his mouth is tight, his hand clenching in the back of your dress and scrunching it up against your ass.
“You think I’m stupid!” You burst out, that one stupid conversation with Geiszler still sitting at the forefront of your mind.
Quaritch just stares at you with the blankest expression you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look annoyed anymore, he just looks fed up.
“No,” He rumbles, using his grip on your ass to pull you closer to where he’s crouching on his haunches. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I do think you’re acting like a goddamn brat right now though, and I’m still waiting for an explanation.”
You swallow, some of the fight draining out of you. He’s not reacting like you had expected him to; you had thought he would scoff at you, or maybe even get angry at you for your unreasonable behaviour. But instead, you’ve got him looking at you with mildly irritated confusion, and he’s actually trying to get you to explain your feelings to him. It’s not how you thought this would go, and now you’re feeling a little wrong-footed.
You glance to the side, unable to meet his gaze. 
“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” You mumble trying not to sound petulant. “It was always me who came looking for you, and everyone has been laughing at me for ages now about how pathetic I am for mooning after you like I have been. I mean– fuck! Even now, the only times you’ve ever come to see me is after I’ve ignored you! It’s like you only want me when you think I won’t have you–”
Quaritch makes a soft scoffing noise in the back of his throat before reaching out and grabbing you by the wrist in an effort to stop you talking. It doesn’t work; you just get upset, and reach up to smack him on the chest. He doesn’t even blink as the blow glances off his chest, as though your fists are of no more consequence than a mildly irritating fly.
“Stop that.” He orders, sharp as ever. “Jesus, kid. Where’s all this coming from, huh? I leave for two weeks and you have a breakdown?”
That makes you pause, chest still heaving, just so you can stare blankly at him. The arms that you had crossed so defensively over your chest loosen just a little.
“You left?” You repeat, frowning.
That makes Quaritch snort, his eyes rolling. “All this cryin’ and you didn’t even notice? What’re you so upset over, then?”
“I-” You fumble, blinking wildly. You had been upset because you had been thinking that your relationship with Quaritch was entirely one-sided, all because Geiszler had suggested that he was using you for just sex. “I just– Geiszler said that–”
Quaritch’s expression darkens, his eyes narrowing. He doesn’t even let you finish, leaning in so that his face is pressed right up close to yours. For a moment, he says nothing; just watches you as you stutter and slowly trail off into silence.
You swallow, then try again. “He said that everyone was laughing at me. Because I like you a lot, and you’ve been ignoring me the best you can. So I stopped going looking for you or asking about you, for weeks, to see if you’d come to me and you didn’t–”
“Because I wasn’t here, kid.” Quaritch snaps, before taking a deep breath. It seems like him snapping at you was accidental, because he then makes a concentrated effort to keep his tone level. “The team was sent out on recon two weeks ago into the lowlands. You’ve been getting all twisted up in knots over nothing.”
Your mouth drops open, and you’re left gaping up at him like a total moron. Hot, thick embarrassment is beginning to curl in your stomach; Geiszler had never thought to mention that Quaritch wasn’t even in Bridgehead when you were all upset about him ignoring you, and that bastard definitely knew considering how close he was with the xeno guys that worked with the recoms. Fuck, you’ve just made a total fool of yourself.
“Oh.” You whisper, blinking at him as you stare back into his unwavering amber eyes. “I– I didn’t know.”
But Quaritch isn’t about to accept that as an answer so easily. His lips curl into a dangerous sort of grin, his eyelids sliding half-closed as he watches you, his face still so close to yours that your gaze keeps darting nervously down towards his mouth. He still hasn’t moved the hand on your ass, and you let out a startled little exhale when he flexes his grip to get a better handle on you.
“I only got back two days ago. I did come looking for you, but some of the guys out in the main lab said you weren’t in.” He says, speaking slowly and purposefully as though he thinks you’re not listening. “So I came today instead. Now, are you finished acting like a fucking lunatic?”
He had come looking for you? No one had ever mentioned that, you think wildly. And the guys in the main lab told him you weren’t in? That didn’t even make any sense – you were always in. You think back to Geiszler, and of his gentle insistence that Quaritch was uninterested, and feel your stomach sink slowly. You had thought he was your friend; your brain rebels at the idea that he was possibly planting doubts in your head just so he could worm his way closer and confess like that to you.
“So,” You say, frowning as your lower lip wobbles a little. “Geiszler was lying to me?”
Quaritch just tilts his head back and sighs through his nose, as though praying for patience. He’s usually such a foul-mouthed hard-ass that seeing him actually make an attempt to regulate himself when you’re upset is a little heart-warming, though you still feel stupid for allowing yourself to be pulled in by him.
“Why would you trust the little creep that’s been sending you sex toys and asking you questions about your sex life, huh?” He asks, his voice a little strained as though he’s forcing patience.
You just purse your lips, still frowning. “I thought we were friends.”
Quaritch just takes a breath and decides not to respond to that. Instead, the hand that’s not still holding you by the ass reaching back around to his back pocket, and he grapples with something there for a moment.
“Here, I got something for you. So no more sulking, got it?”
He doesn’t even give you any time to make any promises before he pulls something out from behind his back. It takes a moment to recognise it as a sample container, and it takes an even longer moment to recognise the pale pink tissue that’s curled up on the inside.
When recognition finally clicks, you let out a squealing gasp before you reach up to grab it.
“Holy shit! Holy shit, you got a biological specimen of the panopyra?”
Quaritch just grunts, but his tail curls in the air behind him. He’s clearly smug about his little gift to you, though his expression is still curiously hard to read. He stays quiet for a few moments as you study the sample in the plastic container, eagerly oohing and ahhhing in regular intervals.
You let out a soft, excited squeal again, beyond excited. You may have finished your dissertation, but you’re already eagerly planning your next research project and this sample will be perfect for that. You raise your head to look at him, directing your bright, sunny grin in his direction.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you-”
Quaritch just snorts, though his ears twitch in obvious satisfaction. “Yeah, yeah. You’re an easy little thing to please, ain’tcha?”
You don’t take offence to that; this is the second time that Quaritch has delivered panopyra samples to you in order to calm you down, and it’s been embarrassingly effective each time.
“I’ve been wanting to get my hands on a sample like this for months-!” You gush, clutching it tight to your chest as you bounce on your toes.
Quaritch just hums. He seems content enough to watch you giggle over the sample, but when you move to walk towards the sample fridge his hand tightens around your ass and keeps you still and pinned by his body.
“Where’re you going?”
“I need to put this in the fridge-”
“Nuh uh,” He murmurs, reaching out to take the container off of you and setting it firmly to the side on the desktop. “You ain’t going near that damn fridge. You telling me you’ve forgotten that little reward you promised me?”
That makes your breath catch in your throat, surprised anticipation bubbling in your belly. You had forgotten that particular promise, but now you find an excited smile growing on your face. And yet, even now, you feel a little hesitant.
“No,” You murmur, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I remember.”
His enormous blue hands coast up along your sides, ruffling the skirt of your dress and dragging it up slightly to expose more of your thighs. You let him, even leaning eagerly into his touch.
“You’ve been feeling neglected, huh?” He asks, his voice dropping into a low rumble that vibrates right into your chest. “That’s why you’re all pissy, right? You’ve been wanting more attention?”
“Yes,” You whisper stupidly, pressing into his hands as his palms glide along your lower back to rest on your ass again. “Yes.”
That makes him laugh, all deep and a little condescending as he leans in towards you. He takes a slow, deep inhale, his big flat nose pressed near your neck as he lets out a soft little groan of satisfaction.
“Fuck,” He rumbles. “I can smell you, kid. Arguing really does get you wet, doesn’t it?”
You flush with embarrassed heat, closing your eyes so that you don’t have to see him looking at you like that. It wasn’t the arguing that had affected you as much as the closeness and the overwhelming presence of Miles as he leaned in over you, impossibly big as he dealt with you with all the patience he could muster even when you were admittedly being a bit of a brat.
When you don’t answer, he sticks a hand under your dress and drags his fingers experimentally along the damp cotton of your underwear. You let out a sharp noise of surprise, but you can’t stop yourself from pressing down into his hand all the same.
“Oh yeah,” He grunts, sounding ridiculously pleased. “Needy little thing. I bet that pathetic little science bitch could just smell it off you – no wonder he was sniffin’ around you like that.”
“Miles,” You breathe, reaching out to hold onto his shoulders as he pulls you closer so that he can dip his fingers into your panties. “Please-”
He chuckles, and tucks his head into your neck before delivering a stinging little warning bite to your shoulder that has your knees weakening. “I know what I want for my reward.”
“Yeah?” You ask, starting to grin.
Your stomach twitches in anticipation, and you cling to him all the harder. You can only imagine what he’s going to ask for; your mind conjures images of you on your knees, the hot thickness of his cock heavy on your tongue as he moans over your head. You press your thighs together eagerly as you watch him, waiting for him to make another move.
But Quaritch doesn’t answer immediately. He just pulls back a little, ignoring your soft noise of complaint, before nosing his way down your torso. He stops when he gets to your navel and takes a deep breath, huffing quietly as he smells you. You can’t even be self-conscious about it, because judging by the pleased grunt he lets out he likes what he’s smelling.
“Drivin’ me crazy here,” He mumbles into your belly, hiking your dress up higher around your waist. “I’ve been thinking about this all week.”
You take a breath, your hands clenching around the thin fabric of his wifebeater. The knowledge that he’s been thinking of you is heady, especially since you had pretty much convinced yourself that he didn’t want you anywhere near him.
“Miles,” You whisper, reaching for his belt. “Do you want me to-”
But to your surprise, he pushes your hand away.
“Nah, honey,” He murmurs, his head dipping lower until that flat nose is pressed right up against the seat of your cotton panties. “Let me do my thing.”
You don’t think you could ever muster up the self-discipline to refuse him that, so all you can do is nod dumbly as he nuzzles his face into your clothed pussy. 
He inhales deeply into the crease of your thigh, before letting out a quiet little grunt. “You smell like strawberries. What is that?”
“My- my body lotion.” You wheeze, shivering against his face as you tilt your hips eagerly towards him.
“Yeah? Fuck, that’s good.” He breathes you in, before licking you through the fabric of your panties.
You jolt a little, and then one of Quaritch’s big hands closes around your thigh and pulls your leg up and over his shoulder. You abandon your hold on his shoulders in favour of grabbing at his head, your fingers scrabbling uselessly over his short hair.
The position opens you up to his hungry mouth, but it also leaves you a little unsteady on your feet; you’re only standing on one leg, the other thrown over his shoulder as he knees between your thighs, all hunched over so that he can fit his head between your legs. You’re still pressed up against the desk, which is probably the only reason you haven’t overbalanced and fallen on your ass.
“Miles-” You start to protest, muscles in your thighs already burning, but he cuts you off with a swift, stinging slap to your ass. There’s hardly any strength behind it, but it’s enough to warn you off complaining. 
The message is clear; this is his reward, and you’re to let him take it. Truthfully, you’re only happy to, and you press your hips towards his face eagerly as he licks insistently at your clit through the damp cloth barrier of your panties.
“You taste so good, kid.” He grunts against your cunt, pulling you against his face so that his words come out muffled and distorted.
“Pervert.” You say, your voice low and ragged as if you hadn’t been the one humping your cunt up against his face.
Quaritch just laughs, his grip on your thighs tightening. God, he’s so patient with you. It just makes you wetter.
When he pulls away, you almost whine. He looks amused at your reaction, though you don’t think he has much room to laugh at you; his own pupils are blown wide, the gold around his iris only a thin line around the edge as his ears twitch eagerly.
“Come on,” He grunts, his strong fingers squeezing at your ass as he hauls you forward so that you’re all pressed up against his body. “Come here to me, darlin’-”
You yelp a little, surprised when he uses his leverage on you to hold you tight as he rolls back on his heels. In a movement that’s almost too quick for you to follow, Quaritch leans back so that he’s laying on the ground all spread out beneath you. You end up straddling his chest, your knees all splayed out on either side of his waist with your dress all rucked up around your hips.
“Ain’t that a pretty sight,” Quaritch coos, reaching out to run his hands all over your thighs, pushing your dress up even higher. “Fuck, mama, just look at you. Take this off, c’mon.”
You don’t even hesitate. His gaze is searing, and you feel hot and overwhelmed under his attention – you just want to please him, to make him happy, and so you reach for your dress and pull it off eagerly.
When you’re left sitting on his chest in nothing but your underwear, Quaritch lets out a soft huff of appreciation. His eyes dart rapidly over your body, before reaching up and wrapping his thick fingers into the fabric of your panties. He tears them like paper, ripping them right off you with ease before doing the same to your bra, ignoring your shout of indignation.
“Oh, you bastard, why would you do that? I don’t have unlimited underwear on this fucking planet-!” You start to complain, but Quaritch obviously isn’t listening to a damn word you’re saying.
“Still so fucking mouthy,” He rumbles though he doesn’t really sound annoyed about it. If anything, he sounds amused.
When his hands grab at your hips, his long fingers squeezing at the plush softness of your thighs as he pulls you up further on his chest, you start to grin. This position feels familiar, and when you glance over your shoulder you can see the prominent bulge in his camo trousers.
You think of the reward he’s requested, and butterflies erupt in your tummy at the thought – you had initially guessed that he might want a blowjob, but now you’re guessing he wants something else based on this position you’re in.
“Want me to ride you?” You ask, biting at your lip as you grin at him coyly. The idea is exciting, and you try not to look too eager for it.
Quaritch just grins back at you, his sharp teeth on full display as his nose crinkles a little. He manages to make what should be an innocuous expression look intimidatingly cheeky, and he watches you with great interest as you grind lightly against his muscled chest.
“Yeah,” He says, his grin turning wicked. “Something like that.”
But then his hands land firmly on your ass and push you up his chest, away from his dick. You go with great confusion, your expression all scrunched up as he pushes you toward his face.
“Sit on my face, honey. Come on.”
You nearly jolt, staring at him in disbelief. “I– wait, what? I can’t do that-”
Quaritch makes an impatient noise in the back of his throat, and doesn’t stop his tugging at you. He’s strong too, so he’s able to pull you right up to his head with minimal effort.
“I had to listen to your creepy little friend talk about every wet dream he’s about you,” He points out, his lip curling as he stares up at you. “And now you’re refusing me this? Come on, mama, let me get my mouth on you.”
His hands are strong and persistent, and you end up with your knees splayed out around Quaritch’s head, hovering nervously above his face. It’s an embarrassingly exposed position to be in, and you take a shaky breath as you stare down at him between your legs. When his tongue pokes out to lick at his lips, you feel your stomach tighten in eager anticipation.
“I-” You flounder, mortified. “I’ll crush you.”
That makes him laugh, teeth flashing.
“You can try, kid.” He says, his smile so sharp that it nearly takes your breath away. “You can try.”
Maybe it’s the fact that he appears genuinely eager about getting his mouth on your pussy, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s still so obviously irritated by what he had overheard when Geiszler was running his mouth earlier, but you find yourself willing to give it a chance. You’ve never tried anything like this before, but Quaritch clearly feels as though he has something to prove – who are you to deny him the chance to show off that he’s so obviously craving?
The next time his hands come to rest over your hips, you allow him to slowly lower you down until his mouth is laid over your cunt. When he opens wide, the hot wet roughness of his tongue sliding over the swollen heat of your clit, you grab at the short bristly hair at the top of his head and jerk your hips away from him.
“Oh!” You blurt, startled at the sensation. It’s so much more intense than you had been expecting – Quaritch has eaten your pussy before, many times, but it’s different being on the receiving end of it when your whole weight is leaning down on him like this.
Quaritch laughs again, low enough that it rumbles up your spine and between your legs. He tilts his head, obviously testing your grip on his hair, and grins wickedly up at you.
“Got a good grip, mama?” He asks in a tone that suggests you’ll need it.
“I– oh!” You wheeze a shocked breath when he pulls your hips back down, so firmly that you can’t even think of lifting away from him as he opens his mouth wide to welcome your cunt.
Even sitting on top of his face with a hand clenched in his hair, you don’t have much control over this. You gasp, trailing off into a moan as Quaritch’s tongue works its way inside you. He's meaner with it now, never staying where you want him, riling you up and then pulling away, placing warning bites on your thighs or your clit when you complain or whine too much.
Embarrassingly, you do need that grip on his hair. Your fingers clench tight in the short but soft bristles of his hair, rolling your hips up, trying to get Quaritch where you want him. His big hands curl around your thighs and keep you pinned to his face, relentless with his tongue.
You direct his mouth to the best of your ability, with words and the occasional tug on his hair, moans falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at your pussy. Quaritch mostly ignores your tugging, pulling at your hips in turn to keep you where he wants you; mindless, you go where you’re told, move where you’re pushed, each small groan and whimper that falls from your lips just spurring him on more.
It feels so much better than you had expected. Your previous hesitancy has completely vanished, and you find yourself grinding your pussy down against his mouth hard as you chase his tongue. He’s so big, so strong, you’re not worried about hurting him like you would be if he was human. The thought of you being enough to crush him is almost laughable.
The rough texture of his tongue rasps over your clit and you shiver hard, a soft cry ripped from your throat. You feel animal, mindless, and you clutch at his hair tight as you hold his head still, your hips bucking wildly against him as you grind your clit into his tongue. 
The pleasure of it nearly steals your breath away, air catching in your chest as you rut your hips into his mouth messily, clumsily. It must be difficult for him to breathe, and yet he doesn’t complain. He doesn’t even make any attempt to slow you down, or to tell you to go easy; he just groans into you, his grip on your hips tightening as his hips hump the air behind you.
You wonder if he was this fucking eager when he was human, or if it’s his new Na’vi senses that makes him so fucking horny for this. His sense of smell is superior now, as is his sense of taste, and his sensitive ears means that he is hyper-aware of every twitch, every moan, every minor reaction. It seems like he’s determined to use his new senses to absolutely devour you.
You’re humping your cunt into his wide, eager mouth hard enough that you probably would have caused a pretty serious neck injury if he were human, but he’s just grunting eagerly into you, his little noises vibrating right up into your clit as his hands on your ass encourage you to ride his face harder. Who are you to deny him what he wants? You fuck your pussy into his mouth just as he wants you to, unrestrained in a way you could never be with a human partner.
That tight coil of pleasured heat trembles deep in your belly, your breaths coming hard and fast as you wheeze. Your orgasm is creeping up on you shamefully quickly; you’re shocked by the sheer speed of it.
“Oh god,” you moan stupidly. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait!”
With an embarrassing squelching sort of noise, Quaritch’s mouth finally detaches from your pussy. He pulls back, already frowning. 
“What?”
His voice is gravelly enough to have you shivering with the sound of it alone, and you gasp, lungs burning as your chest heaves for air.
“I’m gonna come,” You squeal, your hips still twitching. The air in the lab is cold against your sweat-slick skin, and you’re already desperate to feel his mouth on you again. “Fuck! I was- I was gonna come.”
Quaritch just grunts, clearly displeased that you had interrupted his efforts just to make an announcement like that. “Then come.”
He moves to lean back in, but a swift jab to his head has him pausing with a scowl. He’s breathing hard, his eyes a little hazy and unfocused, his mouth slick and shining. There’s a glimmer of sweat along his brow and his chest, his little bioluminescent dots glowing brightly. He’s so pretty – you want to sit on his face again just so you can stop looking at it, overwhelmed by how handsome he is.
“Are you-” You shiver, trying to lean away from the heat of his breath as it ghosts over your slick skin. “Are you gonna fuck me?”
“Maybe later,” He grunts, taking the opportunity to clumsily lift up his CO2 respirator to take a sip of air. “C’mon, sit back down.”
“I wanna come with you inside me,” You say. You’re trying not to sound whiny, but you’re pretty sure you miss the mark. 
“Greedy,” Quaritch grunts. He bites at your thigh, a little harshly. “This ain’t for you. This is my reward, remember?”
The whimper you let out is a little embarrassing, but you nod all the same, unable to resist him. He seems satisfied with that all the same, and lays his head back down against the floor. He shifts a little as though getting comfortable, before gesturing at you with his chin.
“C’mon, princess, let’s go. Keep grinding on me like that – I liked it.”
“Okay,” You breathe, allowing your hips to be guided back down onto his open mouth. 
His tongue moves eagerly and with purpose, tracing a slick path up and around your clit and making you writhe against his mouth as his hands keep you pinned to his face. His tongue keeps working you until you’re beyond slick, dripping and trembling all over his mouth and chin. The palm of his hand is laid flat against your ass, and he uses it to push at you gently, trying to coax you into moving against him like before.
Your thighs are shaking a little, but you still push yourself to move. Your fingers clench and unclench in his hair, knuckles burning from the force of your grip, before you start to move your hips insistently against his mouth again.
“Oh, god.” You sigh, closing your eyes against the force of the heat coiling in your belly. “Oh fuck, Miles, please keep doing that-”
He sucks at your clit hard, thrusts his large tongue inside of you. Licks at you hard and flat before suckling at you with vigour as you grind and rock like a mad thing against his face. You feel like you’re losing your mind, as though his tongue is actually fucking you stupid.
You can’t help it; when his tongue is laid flat against your whole cunt, dripping drool between your legs, you start grinding against his mouth desperately. It feels unbelievably good, and you let out pathetic little mewling moans as you hump your pussy against his face. He holds out his tongue for you to use, and you use it eagerly.
When you finally come, you nearly cry with the relief of it. Pleasure fizzes up your spine, emanating from where you’re rubbing your clit frantically against the mind-blowing texture of Quaritch’s tongue, and you throw your head back as your hips spasm. Your mouth opens wide as you gasp for breath, but you can’t even find the air to make a sound as you shake apart on Quaritch’s tongue.
But it’s only a short-term relief, because Quaritch doesn’t let up. His tongue just keeps going, and soon you’re crying out and trying to squirm desperately away, but you're unable to go far as his hands are like iron bars around your thighs keeping you in place. It's like he’s using his goddamn mouth as a weapon, and you’re soon over-sensitive and teary-eyed.
“Miles,” You gasp, wheezing as a few overwhelmed tears spill over onto your cheeks. “Miles, it’s too much, too much-”
“You can take it.” He grunts, and you can feel him grinning into your pussy.
You shudder, clutching his hair tight as you jerk your hips against his mouth. “Fuck,” You wail, long and drawn out, “I can’t, I can’t-”
He laughs, so mean, the sound rumbling into your cunt and making you whine. He doesn’t let up for a second, and soon you go from twitching away from his mouth to pressing eagerly back down against his tongue. His ears twitch where they’re pressed up tight against your thighs, no doubt eagerly taking in all the pitiful little gasps and whines spilling from your lips.
“Miles, Miles, oh, fuck, Miles-” You babble senselessly, your eyes squeezing shut tight as you rock mindlessly against his face. 
“Whiny bitch,” He says, turning his head to bite at the soft pudge of your thigh. He sounds fond. “All that cryin’ about not being able to take it, but look at you go.”
And with that, he buries his face firmly back into your cunt.
A second orgasm is creeping up on you so quickly that you can hardly believe it, your whole body slick from sweat and trembling from the sheer strain rocking your body. Quaritch’s tongue is absolutely relentless, his mouth sealing over your clit as his hand coasts over your ass. 
Two of his big fingers prod at your entrance before sliding inside of you, the stretch made easy from how slick and wet you are. You cry out hoarsely, head tilting back toward the ceiling; one of his fingers alone is enough to have your head spinning as it nudges insistently at the soft spongey spot deep inside you that makes your legs tremble, but two feel so satisfying.
You cry out again as you writhe on his face, humping into his mouth and grinding back on his fingers, but no matter where you squirm you can't get away from Quaritch’s vicious mouth and probing fingers – you don’t even know if you want to. 
There's no relief; your first orgasm has barely abated before you can feel another one building, as Quaritch forcibly and relentlessly pushes you back to the edge. 
It's so much. It’s too much. You’re sobbing and begging, although for what you’re not sure, since you’re asking Quaritch for more just as often as you’re asking him to stop. He’s added another finger by now, sucking hard on your clit as he fingers you until your eyes are rolling.
You don’t even know half of the shit that’s coming out of your mouth right now; it’s a frantic mix of Miles and please and oh god more and oh my god I'm gonna-!, and then an embarrassing amount of incoherent sobbing. Something big is building inside of you, and you writhe above Quaritch as it builds up bigger and bigger until you’re sure you’re going to explode.
And then you do.
Your orgasm hits you like a goddamn train, crashing over you as your back arches and your muscles tense so tight that you nearly pull something.
Quaritch finally pulls his mouth back, but his fingers don’t stop; you come so hard that it practically bursts out of you, squirting all over his fingers and his chest.
“Holy fuck,” Quaritch says, surprised for a moment before he melts into a laugh. “Oh, fuck, look at you go, kid, Jesus Christ–”
You’re still shaking through the aftershocks of it, and it sounds as though his voice is coming from a very long way away. Even through the haze, when you look down between your legs you’re able to recognise the hungry, awestruck look on his face.
“Oh, god,” You choke out hoarsely, your words coming out on a wheeze. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t– I’ve never–”
Quaritch doesn’t even let you finish. He just grabs at your ass and sits up, holding you as if you weigh nothing before practically tossing you onto your back on the cold linoleum floor of the lab. Within the same second he’s crawling over you, big and imposing as his broad shoulders and muscular chest loom over you.
“The fuck are you apologising for?” He grunts, knocking your thighs aside so he can settle the bulk of his body into the cradle between your legs. “Jesus– c’mere, can you take me?”
You blink hazily, glancing down to see that he’s shoving his pants harshly down his legs and letting them pool around his knees. His cock is as impressive as ever, big and flushed pretty purple as it strains against his lower stomach.
You clench around nothing, feeling so miserably empty now that his fingers are no longer filling you up. You’ve gotten so used to taking the girth of him that now you find yourself craving that beautiful sensation of fullness he always gives you.
“Yes,” You gasp, spreading your thighs wider. “Yes, I can take you.”
That’s all he needs to hear. He pushes his cock inside of your soaking cunt with minimal difficulty despite the ridiculous size of him, though your eyes roll back in your head as you feel the burning pain of him stretching you before he slides deep enough inside that you just feel full.
“Atta girl,” He snarls, pushing his face into your throat and grunting as he grabs at one of your legs so he can pull your thigh up over his hip. “Fuck, you’ve gotten so good at this.”
It’s true – you have gotten good at this. Your body opens up around the thickness of his cock with relative ease now after the initial pain of his entry and all you can do is sigh dreamily at the sensation of being stuffed so full, tightening eagerly around him as he goes to pull out so he can push in again.
When Quaritch starts moving, he uses you like a goddamn sex toy, and you play the part so well. You’re still so fucked out and loose from the two intense orgasms he'd given you, your head still spinning as you gasp your heaving breaths every time he fucks into you. It feels like his cock is in your goddamn lungs, driving the breath out of you every time he humps into you.
His grip on your hips is bruising, every thrust sending your head lolling limply on your shoulders. You’ve already been immensely satisfied by your own orgasms; this is all about Quaritch. He lifts your hips to a better angle, your upper body all splayed out on the floor as he ruts into you sloppily.
“Shit, mama,” He groans, baring his teeth against your shoulder. “Fuck, that’s it. Oh, you’d be fucking wasted on one of those dickless little science majors, you know that? That little shit wouldn’t have the first idea how to handle you. You think you’d be satisfied with him?”
“No!” You sob, clenching up around Quaritch’s cock hard.
You hardly know which way is up, never mind who he’s talking about, as he uses his grip on your hips to pull you back and forth over his dick like you’re a goddamn doll. Being used like this, as though you weigh nothing, is so much hotter than you ever could have imagined. If you weren’t so fucked out, you think you probably would have appreciated this a lot more.
You can hardly even speak, unable to muster up the brainpower required to form words when you’re being fucked like this. You know that soft, breathy sort of moans are being driven out of you with every roll of Quaritch’s hips, soft little uh uh uh uh's, but you don’t have the presence of mind to regulate yourself.
Quaritch doesn’t last as long as usual; it seems like having you riding his face had worked him up far more than you had expected, because soon he’s coming with a snarled roar. To your surprise, he doesn’t come inside like he usually does.
Instead he pulls out, fists his cock, and spills his load all over your bare stomach. There’s a truly ridiculous amount of it considering his size, and it drips all over your belly, your hips, and even spills down over your pussy. You don’t complain; you can barely even form a coherent thought other than the quiet complaint you murmur because you feel so empty now.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Quaritch lowers himself down so that his chest is pressed to your naked breasts. He’s careful not to crush you, pushing his face into your throat and inhaling deeply before pressing a clumsy kiss to your temple. 
You’re still reeling, eyes unfocused and mind hazy and stupid as you turn your head and push your face into his chest. He’s so warm, and you shiver against him as he gathers you into his arms. As good as his fucking you is, having him cradle you like this in the aftermath is almost better. You relish the skin to skin contact, the way his thick fingers coast over your sweaty bare back.
You think you could probably lay there against his massive chest, floating in the aftermath, forever. You’re so comfortable, all loose and floaty and so, so satisfied, the thought of moving doesn’t even cross your mind.
So naturally, Quaritch decides to sit up with a grunt. You whine, reaching up to slap at his chest without opening your eyes. He pays you no mind, reaching to tuck himself away with one hand, using the other arm to hold you still against his chest.
“Fuck,” He grunts as he buttons up his trousers single-handedly. “I needed that. Missed you when I was out there in the jungle. Been thinking about that for weeks now.”
You let out an absentminded grunt, just to show you're listening. You’re still laying limp against his chest, turning your face into cushions of his pecs.
Quaritch laughs, clearly pleased with the job he’s done on you. You feel his nose nudge at the top of your head, and sigh contentedly, enjoying the intimacy of him holding you tight. But then his hand comes down to lay an open-palmed slap against your ass, and you jolt with a startled squawk at the sting.
“C’mon,” He grunts, pushing himself up. His grip on you loosens, and you slip bonelessly down to the floor. “Up and at ‘em.”
“What?” You mumble blearily, rolling your head around limply on your neck. You feel completely boneless, as though Quaritch has managed to fuck every bit of rigidity out of you.
To your bewilderment, Quaritch heaves himself to his feet. While you’ve been fucked dumb, Quaritch seems to have been energised by it. He rotates his waist, stretching his arms over his head with a wide-mouthed yawn that displays his sharp teeth, before rolling his shoulders in quick, sharp circles.
“Let's go get you some dinner.” He says, stretching his back. Something cracks in his spine and he moans in satisfaction. “You’ve been feeling neglected, yeah? I’ll get you some food.”
That’s not what you had meant by feeling neglected, and you roll your eyes and huff. You’re still laying completely nude on the floor, and you turn your face away from him. He’s still standing over you, hands on his hips as he waits for you to stand. When it becomes clear that you’re not going to be  getting up any time soon, he clicks his tongue impatiently. 
You yelp, startled, when his big hands fold around your waist and lift you right up off the floor. Your knees buckle under you when he sets you on your feet, and you stumble for a moment on wobbly legs like a newborn calf.
Quaritch doesn’t immediately move to steady you – when you glance up, you find him watching you with a poorly hidden smirk, clearly pleased with himself.
“Why can’t we rest for a damn minute?” You complain, reaching to hold tight to his arm as your legs tremble. “Fuck.”
Quaritch just snorts, watching you intently as your knees shake. “Quit the whining, princess. I’m doing something nice. There ain’t no fancy restaurants around here, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ll bring you to the commissary and get you food on my meal ticket – next best thing.”
There must be something seriously wrong with you, because you find yourself blushing over that.
“I have come all over me.” You complain, as he picks up your dress and tosses it to you. It hits your head and tangles you in it, and you attempt to wrangle your way out of it blindly.
“Mm.” He hums, rolling his shoulders as his eyes rove over your naked body. “So? I’ve got your squirt all over my face.”
You shoot him a dirty look, cheeks flooding with heat when you realise that he certainly does, because his face is still dripping with it. He’s a master of missing the point, and you suspect that he does it on purpose.
“We have to clean up before we go anywhere. I need a shower.” You sigh, reaching for a collection of tissues. You wipe at your belly, cleaning up the worst of the cum, before grabbing another handful and gesturing at him to lean down.
You’re somewhat surprised when he does as you ask, bending down and watching you with obvious amusement as you wipe the evidence of your release off his face. As you clean him he leans in, nostrils flaring as he sniffs. His eyes flutter half-shut, before he blinks them back open again.
“Nah,” He murmurs, his expression relaxing in a smirk of pure self-satisfaction. “You can take a shower later. C’mon – let’s get you that food.”
You’re still flushed and embarrassed as you wriggle your way back into your dress. You already know that you’re going to give in and do whatever he wants, but you’re still feeling argumentative and you don’t want to relent so easily.
“I don’t have any underwear.” You complain, tilting your head back to look at him. “You tore mine up-”
“You don’t need them,” He grunts dismissively, leaning against your desk as he watches you pull your dress into place. “No one else is gonna be looking up your skirt, anyway.”
You keep arguing anyway, even as he attempts to herd you towards the laboratory door. “Can’t we wait a little longer? I don’t wanna have to walk through the main lab and make eye contact with all the guys who know that I just got bent over in here–”
“They’ll know whether you wait a few minutes or not,” Quaritch says bluntly. “Besides, some of them probably need to learn by seeing.”
“Learn what–” You start to complain, before cutting yourself off.
You blink once, then twice, then turn your head to stare up at Quaritch. You only reach his navel, so you have to tilt your head right back.
“Oh my god,” You whisper, your tone nothing short of revelatory. “You want them to see me like this. You want Geiszler to see me like this.”
He just grunts as though he’s not listening, but you can see the way his ears are swivelled towards you. When you just keep staring up at him, unmoving, he clearly realises that you’re not going to let it go because he sighs through his nose and turns his amber eyes back on you.
“So?” He challenges, his eyebrows raising. “He tried to get you drunk and worm his head between your legs. If the little bastard needs to see you covered in my cum in order to back off, fine.”
“Oh my god,” You complain, but you’re flushed hot and embarrassed. “You’re disgusting.”
He just grunts, and makes no attempt to argue. In fact he seems to agree judging by the stupid smirk on his face.
“Come on,” He says simply, “After food, you can curl up in your bed and vegetate for as long as you like, how ‘bout that?”
You squint up at him. “With you?”
Quaritch rolls his eyes as though exasperated with your clinginess, but you’re not blind – you can see the way the tips of his pointed ears have flushed darker and feel the way his tail coils around your leg as he ushers you toward the door.
He bends over at the waist and drops a quick kiss on your forehead. It’s the gentlest thing he’s done all evening, and you’re left mollified and silent as he smooths back some of your hair that had been messed up during your activities.
“Yeah, kid,” He mutters, “With me, if you want.”
A stupid, dopey smile breaks out on your face, impossible to repress. 
“You’re so stupid.” You sigh, though your silly grin softens the sting of your words. “I just squirted all over your face — of course I wanna cuddle with you later.”
“Watch that mouth.” Quaritch warns, but his ears twitch and you can tell that he’s pleased.
You just giggle, still beaming as you finally allow him to herd you towards the door to the main lab.  Co-workers be damned, you think smugly as he punches the command to open the door. You haven't missed the way he's been sniffing at you; if Quaritch wants to walk you all around the base while you smell like each other, then that's what you'll do.
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redstarwriting · 10 months
Text
his girl | iii. all the riches
earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader
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word count: 2.5k
genre: angst to fluff
warnings: language, insults, spoilers, probably bad spanish, mentions of guns, bullet wounds, knife wounds, stabbing, shooting, violence, 42 Miles kills people, descriptions of bad injuries, a mild panic attack
a/n: someone take action sequences away from me i write them too damn much LMAO, i hope you all enjoy this chapter! these sequences are fun to write, so i hope it’s just as fun to read 🖤
his girl masterlist
previous chapter: ii. envy me
now reading: iii. all the riches
next chapter: iv. what can make me feel this way?
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The Prowler mask is immediately back on Miles’ face as he runs out of Uncle Aaron’s window and hops down the fire escape. There’s a loud zapping noise, and the chains are completely off of Miles. Aaron looks at him, a little surprise on his face. “What the hell was that?” Miles hears him say, but Miles rushes past him, following other him on the same route he ran a year ago to get away from his uncle. Weird déjà vu moment. That’s not necessarily important in this moment, though.
Miles catches up to Miles in record time, which pisses 42 Miles off, but again, not necessarily important in this moment. What’s important is you, being held by a strange man with a gun to your head. “I recommend you let her go before I make you,” Miles’ distorted voice says, and the asshole holding the gun up to your head laughs. “You owe Kingpin something. You’re supposed to be getting it right now,” he says, twisting your arm behind your back more, causing you to wince and make a pained noise. This makes both Miles’ angry. “Man, you work with Kingpin, too?! What is up with your universe?” Miles mumbles, and Miles hisses. “Cállate! I don’t do it because I want to, I do it because I have to!”
“Who’s the new guy?” one of the other men asks, motioning to Miles. “Name’s Spider-Man, and I’m not a new guy, just visiting. Gotta say, though, if I could leave a Yelp review here, it would not be high. You guys ever consider, oh I don’t know, let’s see–not terrorizing citizens of the city?” Miles says, and one of the goons asks, “What’s a yelp?”
“So y’all have somethin’ called ‘comics con’ but not Yelp? This place is fucking weird.”
“Spider-Man? Tonto,” Miles mutters before addressing the man again. “It doesn’t matter who he is, she has no business in this,” he says. Other Miles scoffs. “Spider-Man is not a silly name. Spider-Man is a cool name,” he mutters as the man laughs. “Seein’ as she walked out of your accomplice's apartment, I’m assuming she means somethin’ to you,” the cartel member says, and the panicked look in your eyes makes Miles want to die. You shouldn’t have gotten involved in any of this, he shouldn’t have let you come to Aaron’s like this, he shouldn’t have let you walk out. Now you’re in danger because of him. He growls, muttering out a “Que te jodan, cabrón.”
“I’ll take that as she means something, then,” the guy chuckles, motioning for his fellow members to come forward. One brandishes a very large, very sharp knife, approaching you. Your eyes widen as one of the others covers your mouth with his hand. You make a muffled noise as the guy with the knife holds it to your throat. You make eye contact with 1610 Miles before looking at your Miles. The two of them, already on edge, are about to jump in at any second. “Maybe we should make an example of her, then. So you know to never try to cheat us again,” the man says, twisting your arm until a loud crack is heard, and you let out a muffled scream, squeezing your eyes shut as tears roll down your cheeks. Miles and Miles hear him cock his gun as the other gets ready to drag his blade across your throat.
Now there are a couple of things you should never do in any universe. One of those things is threatening the love interest of a superhero or a supervillain. Both will end in a bad result for you, and probably end up costing your life in one instance. And another one of those things is piss off Spider-Man to the point where he doesn’t say his corny ass jokes.
And seeing this guy break a (Y/n)’s arm to ‘set an example’ is a way to piss off Spider-Man enough to where he isn’t telling his corny ass jokes.
“I got the guy with the gun and the guy covering her mouth,” Miles 1610 says, low enough for Miles to hear and no one else. “Entendido. I got the guy with the knife,” Miles responds, swallowing his pride and deciding to work with Miles. If it meant saving you, he would do anything.
A silent agreement between them causes Miles to become the Prowler and other Miles to become Spider-Man. Something this world has never seen.
The Prowler leaps at his guy, using one hand to clamp down on his holding the knife, keeping it steady as he uses his claws to do what he was attempting to do to you. At the same time, Miles webs the gun and the man covering your mouth’s hand, yanking both towards him and causing the men to stumble forwards. 42 Miles grabs the knife from the guy he just took down and uses all his force to cut the man who was covering your mouth’s hand completely off. He screams as he falls to the ground, and 42 Miles pulls you out of the way. 1610 Miles promptly delivers a punch to the man with the gun’s face, knocking him down. He breaks the gun in half, throwing it behind him. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He leaps out of the way as one of the other men fires his gun at him, dodging the bullet just in time. Unfortunately, it hits the man he just knocked down straight in the head. He webs that gun, too, swinging it around him and nailing the guy in the head with it. Hard. Miles essentially pistol-whips the man but has no time to rest as more people join the fight.
While 1610 Miles is doing all this, 42 Miles, grabs you, pushing you behind him. “Amor you need to run,” he says, pointing to the fire escape that leads back up to Aaron’s apartment. “If they follow you, you got Aaron to help you. Fuera de aquí. Ahora, We’ll get rid of these assholes, just go!” he explains, frantically, as he powers up his gauntlet, punching one of the men running towards the two of you and sending him painfully flying against the wall of the alleyway. You nod, turning to run, but one of the men was able to get behind you. He grabs you, stabbing the shoulder of your now broken arm with a knife as you dodge out of the way from his attempt at stabbing you in the chest. You yelp. Miles turns around, dodging the man’s attempt to stab him as he pulls out a second knife, before catching his wrist. He digs his claws into him, causing the man to drop the knife and scream out in pain before Miles forcefully pulls his head down to his knee. He crumples to the ground, and Miles immediately assesses the damage of the knife. “Mierda. Amor, change of plans. Stay behind me, Imma keep you safe,” he says, shielding you from the rest of the people.
His eyes widen as he realizes Miles has taken out over half of them, leaving only two people left. Maybe he’s not too bad, after all. “Hey, man, little help here?” Miles yells, and 42 Miles runs forward, keeping tabs on you, as he slices up the second to last guy. The two of them turn their attention to the last person, who has her gun pointed at them, switching between the two before realizing that you were also in range. She quickly turns her attention firing at you, but luckily, she’s a terrible shot. The bullet only grazes the side of your thigh, but both boys flinch, knowing how much that hurts. She then runs towards you after realizing she’s out of bullets, raising her arm to strike you. Both Miles and Miles dart over, but you’ve had enough of this. You were already made beforehand, and now you have a stab wound, multiple cuts, a broken arm, and a bullet wound? These motherfuckers need to know they can’t mess with you just to get to your boyfriend. So, you punch her first. Across the face. Hard. Luckily your dominant arm was the one left unharmed in all of this, even if you felt one of your fingers break on the impact. You still knock out the woman. You look up at the two boys, who are both staring at you with wide eyes.
“Damn, ma.”
“That was actually kinda hot,” both of them speak over each other, and 42 Miles snaps his head towards himself. “Ay, idiota! Don’t call my girl hot.”
“Bro, I am you! I know you thought it was hot, too, because we are the same person!” Miles exclaims, and you huff, grabbing the attention of the boys again. “They were pissing me off, so don’t piss me off even more with this stupid arguing,” you mutter suddenly feeling a rush of panic overtake you from the feeling of a knife in your arm. And intense pain spread through your leg at the sight of the bullet graze wound. “Okay… think I’m gonna faint, now.”
1610 Miles catches you before you even begin to slightly waver, beginning to run up the side of the building to Aaron’s apartment. “How the hell you doing that, man?!” he hears other him yell as he scales the fire escape. “Dude, I told you! I’m Spider-Man! Spiders can do this typa shit,” Miles says, hopping onto Aaron’s fire escape and running through the open window. Aaron points a gun at him before seeing that he’s carrying a very injured you in his arms, quickly ushering him over to his couch.
Miles lays you down as your Miles runs through the open window and right over to your side. “Ay, bendito,” he mutters, assessing the damage. Luckily, the knife you were stabbed with was just a pocket knife. Unluckily, you were stabbed with a pocket knife. You wrap your hand around the handle of the knife, getting ready to yank it out before 1610 Miles stops you. “No, (Y/n), you cannot pull it out yet,” he says, and you gulp. “But–”
“Nah, mi vida, Miles tiene razón. You could bleed out. It has to stay in,” your Miles says as Aaron nods, grabbing a hefty first aid kit. “Yeah, kid. You’ll feel much worse when it’s out, trust me,” he says, handing your Miles a splint for your finger. “Now anyone care to tell the adult in the room just what the hell happened down there?”
“Why didn’t the adult in the room come out to help?” 42 Miles fires back, and Aaron frowns. I was up here with a gun ready to shoot one of them in case they tried to come in here and stael your shit, Miles. Besides, I know you can hold your own, man. And apparently, so can he,” Aaron says, motioning to 1610 Miles. It makes him feel good. He wishes his Uncle Aaron could see him kicking ass like this. But as 42 Miles starts to treat you, other Miles puts those thougts out of his head, grabbing some bandages and disinfectant. He begins treating some of the cuts you received. You wince, and he frowns. “I know it hurts, (Y/n/n), but I gotta do this,” he mumbles, placing bandages over them before moving to the bullet graze wound.
He apologizes before ripping the pants you’re wearing further to get better access to the wound. He gently clears it out, making sure there’s no more fabric left in it. Your Miles holds your hand after aligning your finger, and you squeeze it as other Miles cleans thee bullet graze. He muttered comforting words to you in Spanish, alternating between wiping the tears off your face and kissing them away. 42 Miles watches as 1610 Miles expertly bandages the wound and raises his eyebrows. “You do this a lot?”
“More than I’d care to admit,” he says, shrugging. He looks up at him. “We need to get her to the hospital for the stab wound and the arm.”
“Eres estúpido o qué?! The hospital is run by the cartel,” Miles says, and Aaron solemnly nods. “Look, Miles, I don’t know what type of world you come from, but here it’s dangerous. All the time,” he says, and Miles frowns. “You have no one in this city looking out for people?”
“We did, but… he’s gone now,” Miles says, softer than other Miles has ever heard him speak. You bring his hand you’re holding up to your mouth, kissing it. Aaron’s face turns somber. Miles doesn’t say anything, but he starts getting an idea he doesn’t like very much. “Well… what about mamá? She’s a nurse, just say (Y/n) got jumped or something. She can fix this,” Miles mentions, and 42 Miles slowly nods. “Yeah… yeah that could work. Are you okay with that, mi luna?” he asks you in a soft tone, and you gulp. “How much longer til she’s home?”
“She’ll come home the minute I call her and tell her what happened to you. She’ll think of a good excuse,” Miles insists, and you nod. “Okay. Just… please tell her to make it stop hurting,” you mumble, and he frowns. “Lo siento, mi vida,” he mumbles, and 1610 Miles sighs. “Yeah… me too.” You shake your head. “You literally saved my life, Miles. Both of you. Neither of you have anything to apologize for,” you say, squeezing his hand again. “Miles. I hate to bring this up, but… before you call Rio, we needa be somewhere. Or else the cartel will be after her, you, Rio, and me all over again,” Aaron says, and Miles frowns. He doesn’t want to leave you. Not for anything. Especially not to steal shit for a corrupt asshole like Kingpin. He wants to stay with you. You’re more important tan anything he could possibly steal. But, Uncle Aaron is right. He knows he has to go. “Ay, dios mío. That’s why they came after us in the first place. I’ll be back, amor,” he glances at other Miles with a frown, “Look after her, aight?”
“Does this mean you trust me? Where are you going?”
“I have no choice but to trust you right now. Besides, you helped out down there to save her. Guess you’re cool. But you don’t need to know where I’m going. Just know I’m not going by choice, but out of necessity,” Miles says, his Prowler mask coming back over his face. Miles shrugs. That’s a start in gaining his own trust, he guesses. “I got her. Just don’t die, please. Would be weird trying to explain to ma that I’m her alive son from another universe,” Miles says, and Miles mutters something in Spanish before nodding at Aaron. “Let’s go,” Aaron says, and they make their way out of the apartment.
After they leave, you and Miles sit in a comfortable silence as he looks over all of the bandages, making sure they’re okay. “Care to tell me what happened between us on your world to get my mind off of this?” you ask, motioning to the knife sticking out of your body. Miles sighs.
This is gonna be rough.
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『 his girl tag list 』
@agustdeeyaa @akemiixx01 @angeli-fucking-cat@dani111* @eitaababe​ @fiannee​ @hana-1235 @imaginarydreams @inluvwithneteyam @kdbsr-h* @kezibear @kikookii @korehiiime @laylasbunbunny @lazyotakuofficial @mama-2001 @mividaasi @nightshxdex @notplutos* @papichulo120627 @po55um @ptsmplekaramele @realityshifter111 @rksses @silly-norman @shoyofroyoyoyo @snixx2088 @soy-garbage @sp1derm4nluver  @staravity @storm-enika* @tanchosanke @tenaciousduckpoetry @unforgettble420 @whoisgami​ @yasfrommiles​ @yourfavstalker25789* @zenxvii​
『 itsv/atsv tag list 』
@autismnation @briannaxox* @februarybluues @hearts4hobie @kitsunna4​@smuuchies* @soseoulol​ @stoic0utlaws​​ @tes-conscience*​
*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue
if you wish to be on either tag list, reach out and let me know! thank you to everyone for the support!🖤
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