#I think I pushed myself too far because I also got sick and now I feel like shit and I’m so so so tired | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badkitty3000 · 2 months

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Weak

Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

This one shot is an accompaniment to my other work "Addicted". This can be read on its own, but is a different side of the story, as told from Five's point of view.

As always, I am open to requests. Thank you!

My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction

Weak:

I never meant to take it this far. I never meant to be cruel. That’s not who I am, or at least I didn’t think I was. I also thought I was strong and had will power. But I guess I was wrong about that, too. Because as much as I try to stay away, I don’t.

I know who I am and what I’m made of. The terrible things I’ve done. That’s not a secret and I’ve never lied to myself about that. My morals can’t even be called a gray area anymore; they’re more like an indistinct blur. But in this one tiny part of my soul, I was trying to be better. For her, at least.

I have failed miserably.

She knows what I am. When things got too comfortable and too familiar, I told her as a way to push her away and to scare her. It didn’t work, though. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She fucking loved it…and I didn’t know how to say no to that.

How could I say no when she was tearing at my clothes, practically panting with desire, and shoving her hand down my pants? All over a bloody stain on a shirt collar and the feel of my Glock against her skin. I’m sure there’s a way to resist that, but fuck if I know what it is. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to figure that one out.

I don’t particularly like all of the killing. But I’m pretty fucking good at it and someone has to do it, I suppose. I certainly never considered it sexy in any way. Then, after that first time, when she begged me to tell her all of the gruesome details, and I watched her skin start to flush and her pupils dilate…well, fuck, that put a new spin on everything.

I still don’t like it, that part hasn’t changed. I get no pleasure from pulling that trigger and watching their skull break open like a fucking pinata, spraying the contents of their brains all over the floor like the world’s worst party game. Now, however, there is a sick little spark that will ignite in me after it’s done. Because I know how it will turn her on.

And, fuck, I am weak.

That’s what this all boils down to. Weakness. For most people that meet me or know me in any way, weak is probably the last word they would use to describe me. Cold; bitter; sarcastic; asshole. Those adjectives are much more likely to be used. But weak? Doubtful.

I know the truth, though. Deep down, that is what I am. Because when you continue to break someone’s heart time and time again, just because you can’t control your own basic urges…that’s weakness. Pure and simple.

She has told me how much I’ve hurt her, and how much I am ruining her life. She has screamed and cried and told me all of the things I know I deserve to hear. She has called me an asshole more times than I can remember, and I have never disputed it. So, I stay away, like I know I should. Until she inevitably calls again. And I slip right back into it without another thought. Like the absolute fucking bastard that I am.

Weak.

Because even though I know it’s wrong and I’m slowly poisoning her with my selfishness, each time I think maybe it will be different. Maybe this time will be the time when I stay. When I will finally be the person I should be and really want to be.

All the way up until the early morning, I will convince myself that this is it. I’ve finally seen the light and I can be the man she deserves; it will be so easy. Because when it’s just the two of us, in our own little cocoon, hidden away from the outside world, the idea is magical. I would give anything to stay there, tucked away, fucking like animals until we’re both too exhausted to talk anymore. I want to stay there and listen to her voice, and her laugh, and feel her hands on my touch-starved body. And I think, yes, this is it. This is what I want.

Then morning comes and the spell is broken.

Once that first peek of dawn starts to light up the sky, all of my anxieties come rushing back, and I remember why I can’t stay. Morning brings back the real world, and with it all of its problems.

I will freeze up, practically paralyzed with fear, as she sleeps next to me, an arm draped over my chest. I will remember what kind of person I really am, and how that just doesn’t translate to boyfriend material. And it’s not just the little fact that I am a hired assassin, although that does put a slight snag in any future meetings with parents and the like.

It’s the mixing bowl of fucked up thoughts and feelings and history that lives inside my brain. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Rage. Take your pick, none of them are great. And I can mask them for a night or two, while I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. But they will come back again, and that’s just not something anyone needs. Especially someone you care about.

So, I do the worst, shittiest thing in the world, and leave while she’s asleep. No kiss goodbye. No note. Not even a quick morning fuck. I grab my shit and leave in a flash of blue light, like the weak coward I am. Can’t even bother to use the god damn door.

I will stay away after that. At least for a while. I will ignore the incoming texts and voice mails that sometimes will follow, and sometimes don’t. I’ll pretend I don’t care about the lectures and pleas and rightly-deserved insults. But I do care. And that’s why I won’t answer.

A month might go past, maybe more. Just enough time for me to start thinking she really is done with me. Then the call will come through, late at night, and I won’t ignore it. Because, as we’ve determined…I am weak.

She is the only one, although I’ve never told her that and I bet she thinks she’s not. I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. And when she stops calling for good, which one day I know will happen, that will be it. It’s either her or nobody. And it’s barely even her.

Our paths almost never cross outside of our little midnight meetings. After that first night when all of this started, I’ve never seen her anywhere else besides her apartment. I assume it’s because the types of bars and clubs I frequent are not anywhere a normal, sane person would want to spend their free evenings. But tonight, as fate would have it, I do see her. After I grab my drink off the cracked and peeling bar top and turn to look at the room behind me, I see her. And she’s not alone.

With my glass half way to my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a second neither of us move. It’s not a big place, so we aren’t that far away from one another. But it’s loud and crowded, and the guy is leaning in close to her ear, talking loudly to be heard over the constant bass thumping through the shitty speakers on the walls. Who the fuck is this guy?

It’s not fair, I know that. Believe me, I know that. And I try to give myself a stern talking-to inside my head. She is not yours. Not even remotely. You are an asshole and she deserves better. Leave her the fuck alone.

I take a drink. And then I see his hand disappear under the table, and I can see everything from where I’m standing. He’s squeezing her thigh, leaving his hand there to rest on her leg, rubbing his thumb across the bare skin that isn’t covered by her short skirt. A skirt I know I’ve had my face under before.

Fuck. I hate this guy.

In the thirty seconds that it takes for all of this to happen, she is watching me. Reading me. A faint smile plays on her lips and I know I’m caught. My thoughts must be written all over my face like a fucking billboard, and it’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen or that I don’t care. She’s got me.

If I were stronger, or a better person, I would leave. Pay my tab, collect my coat, and get the fuck out of there without another glance in her direction. Leave her be. Let her live her fucking life. But I am not. And I’m pissed.

My first instinct is to reach behind me, grab the Glock that’s hidden in the waistband of my pants and covered up by my suit jacket, and take care of this asshole right then and there. That would probably be the nicer thing to do, honestly. Then she’d finally see what a fucking psycho I am and that would end things once and for all. But I’m also not that stupid. Or that nice.

Instead, I stay and watch. I let her see me watching, too. I lean with my back against the bar, casually sipping my drink, and my eyes never leave her. I want her to know, even if it makes me more of a giant dick than I already am. I want her to know I am not pleased.

I have no idea who this guy is, and I don’t care. Maybe it’s their first date; maybe it’s their tenth. It doesn’t matter, I want him dead. And now that she knows that, because it’s pretty fucking obvious by the way I’m coiled like a cobra ready to strike right now, it’s quickly become a game. If she had feelings for him before, that seems to have been forgotten now. Because everything she is doing is for me.

Her eyes leave mine and she returns to what I can only imagine is a very dull conversation with the Neanderthal sitting next to her. She smiles and laughs, and moves her leg closer to his so that they are touching. She reaches up and fixes his hair, tucking a stray piece of it over his ear. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at him like he’s the most interesting person she’s ever encountered. And he’s eating this shit up; kicking his game up a notch with even more inane talk and rubbing her thigh up and down with his whole hand. He thinks she’s into him. Fucking dumbass.

That’s the only thing keeping me slightly calm at the moment. Knowing it’s all a play. She is a really good actress, I’ll give her that, but I’ve paid more attention to her than she realizes. I know her tells. I know the difference between her fake laugh and her real one. I can tell when she’s actively engaged in the conversation or she is just waiting for you to shut up. I know how she touches her face when she’s nervous and I know what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.

And, buddy…I got bad news for you.

The corner of my mouth lifts in an arrogant smirk as I take another drink. I shouldn’t be proud of this; I should be appalled. How dare I think I have any right to any of her little traits and quirks? I haven’t earned that. That kind of thing is reserved for boyfriends and husbands and people that can stand to stick around for more than a few hours.

When she runs her tongue over her lips in an obvious gesture meant only for me, I actually laugh out loud. Fuck, she knows what she’s doing. And it’s one hundred percent working.

As I order my second drink, feeling the calming buzz of the booze fill my brain, I start to care less and less. I don’t care if this is not fair. I don’t care that I’m being a complete and utter shit head. I don’t care if I’m weak. I’ll deal with all of that later.

I take out my phone and type out a quick text.

Enjoying yourself?

I watch as she glances to her phone on the table as it lights up. She picks it up, angling it away from Caveman Cliff, and reads it. It’s subtle, but I saw it. A brief twitch of her mouth and a quick flit of her eyes in my direction. I see her type out a quick reply and then she is back to him, completely enrapt in his droning.

Immensely, thank you

Not able to resist, I counter with:

Even I can tell from way over here that your panties are as dry as the desert

She holds in a smile as she responds back.

Too bad you’re not going to find out

Honey, if that pussy of yours is even slightly wet, it’s only because you’re thinking of me bending you over that table you’re sitting at right now

I see her legs shift and she crosses one over the other, squeezing them together as a faint blush covers her cheeks.

And why would I be thinking that?

Because that dipshit you’re with isn’t going to give you what I know you want

I watch as she swallows and then glances at the idiot to her left that is oblivious to all of this, the poor bastard. Her response is short.

Fuck you

She puts her phone away to end this exchange, but I see the small smile she is trying to hide and the way she touches her hand to her face. I can see her chest expand as she sucks in a deep breath, biting at the inside of her cheek.

I give a short snort of satisfaction and put my phone back in my inside jacket pocket. I got what I wanted. I throw back the rest of my drink, leave a few dollars for a tip, and head for the door without another look in her direction. But I know she saw me leave.

As I wait there in the dark, I think about how awful I’m being; what a shit bag move this is. I’m using her, that’s what it boils down to. Using her for her warmth and her openness, and to temporarily calm my mind. Also, for her body and her touch. She sees something in me that isn’t there; or at least something I can’t see. But I can’t or won’t give her what she needs, and I’m also not letting her move on.

Fuck, I’m an asshole.

I hear their voices coming down the hall, the rattle of keys in her hand. As they near the door, I can hear her made up excuses. She’s tired; she had too much to drink; she has a headache. Maybe next time. She’ll call him tomorrow. Then she slips inside her darkened apartment and the door closes behind her.

I’m on her before she has a chance to turn the light on, pressing her against the door as she drops her keys on the floor. Since I’ve been waiting, the anticipation has already made me fully hard and I push my groin into her while I circle my hand lightly around her neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No love connection tonight?” I growl next to her ear.

She never even screams or fights back. She knew I would be there. But her hands grab my forearm and I hear her suck in a loud breath.

“I never knew you were the jealous type,” she smarts back.

“Only when I see someone try to take what’s mine,” I hiss hotly against her neck, drawing my lips and then my tongue across her skin.

“I’m not your fucking property,” she snarls, but I can hear the break in her voice and she swallows hard against my hand.

I laugh cynically. “Well, then I can go and you can let him fuck you instead. Is that what you want?”

There’s a long pause and it’s just our loud breathing in the dark of the room. Then I feel her head move slowly from side to side.

“No,” she whispers.

As I crash my mouth onto hers, my hands in her hair and on her face, and down to her tits, she is reaching for the front of my pants. I had already removed my jacket and belt when I got there, as well as the pistol that I always carry with me. Our little act back at the bar was already enough foreplay and our bodies are screaming for each other.

Our hands can’t work fast enough as she is shoving my pants down my legs and tearing my shirt open while I rip her top off and yank her skirt up. My fingers are already pushing her panties to the side and entering her, sliding right in with no resistance.

I smile proudly against her neck. “I knew you were wet for me.”

As she moans and throws her head back, she is reaching down to stroke my cock, her warm hand tight and firm as she drags it slowly over my shaft.

My hips are already jerking into her and I want to be inside of her so badly I can’t think straight.

“Get these panties off so I can fuck you,” I snarl.

I pull my fingers out, pushing her underwear down roughly and she quickly steps out of them. With one pull of her hips into me, her arms clutching tightly to my shoulders, I lift her up and start fucking her against the door.

I tip my head back and groan loudly as she whines and pulls her legs tighter around my waist.

“Can he make you feel this good?” I ask between clenched teeth as I ram into her harder and the door rattles in its frame.

“No!” she cries out.

“Do you think about him when you’re alone and fingering yourself?”

Her moans are punctuated by the slamming of my body against hers and her fingers press deeper into my skin.

“No,” she breathes out. “No.”

“You think about me, don’t you?” I say with a sneer. When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I ask again, louder. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers pitifully, her nails digging sharply into my shoulder blades.

I can’t believe what I’m saying and what I’m doing. But she’s loving it and so I continue.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget all about him, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. And if I ever see you with him again, I will kill him.”

“You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?” she asks, and that knowing smile starts to form as she closes her eyes and bites her lip. “When you saw him with me?”

“Fuck yes I did,” I groan loudly into her neck.

She’s almost there, I can tell. So am I, but I’m going to make her finish first. I pick up the pace, thrusting into her as hard as I can, her back and head slamming against the door, my fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her thighs and ass. I’m practically ripping into the side of her neck, latching on with my mouth and teeth, desperate to mark her as my own.

I listen as she repeats my name over and over in gasps and moans and I can’t hold back anymore.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”

She is falling apart in my arms, violently shaking against me as I penetrate her one last time, letting out a loud, guttural moan. I’m as deep inside of her as I can be, and I fill her up with so much cum, I know it will start sliding out; dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Somewhere deep inside, in the primordial part of my brain, I take satisfaction in knowing that it’s my seed, and only mine, that is coating her insides.

Once the last spasm has left my body, I let her down and she falls back against the door, breathing hard. Her bra is still on, but the straps have fallen down, and her skirt is bunched up around her waist. I look at the painful looking purple bruise I left on her neck, which is large enough and obvious enough that she won’t be able to cover it. Her eye makeup is smeared and her lips are swollen and red. She looks completely ravished. And then she starts to cry.

It’s because of me, I know it is. Because of the things I said and the things I did, and the way I needed her so desperately. She had been trying to break away from me and I reeled her back in. And I did it knowingly and deliberately, just to feed my ego and maybe not feel so alone. I could have found anyone for that. But, like the prick I am, I only wanted her.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lungs still working hard to get air in and out.

She just nods silently, wiping her face with her hand, and pulls down her skirt. She picks her shirt and underwear off the floor and heads to the bathroom without a word. I’m left standing there with a softening dick and my pants around my ankles.

Fuck.

I could leave now, while she’s in there, and maybe I should. That feels wrong, though. But then again, so does staying. I feel like shit and I’m so full of shame that I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I zip my pants back up and walk over to her couch to wait. I turn on the table lamp and even though it’s dim, it feels blaringly bright and I have to squint my eyes.

When she comes out, she has changed into some soft shorts and a t-shirt. Her face is cleaned up and I assume her thighs and the area between them are too. She is no longer crying, but I can still see the tell-tale signs of red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m surprised when she comes and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I can’t think of anything better to say.

“I know. Me too,” she says and she leans her body against mine.

She has nothing to be sorry for and I’m not sure what to do, so I put my arm around her and hug her to me. I kiss her forehead and she closes her eyes. I don’t know why she’s letting me do this, but it feels good and I like it. Just like every other time, I tell myself that maybe this time will be different. I can do this; I can be that person. I don’t want to be that other jealous, callous, hurtful person. I don’t want to be the asshole.

“Just don’t go yet, ok?” she says quietly with her cheek resting against my chest.

I smooth her hair and run my hand down her back. I don’t want to go. She feels good and warm and soft against my tension-filled body. She feels right. I want to tell her all of that, too. I want to say I’m sorry a million times over and beg for her forgiveness. I want to wake up with her next to me every day.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I murmur into her hair as I brush my chin across the top of her head.

“Don’t do that,” she pleads, her voice soft. “Please.”

I decide I’m going to tell her how I really feel. Before the night is over, I’ll come clean. And then I’ll stay. If she’ll still have me.

“You are, though. I mean it.”

She doesn’t respond, but sighs and nestles in, holding me around my waist. Fuck, I have craved this. More than the dirty talk and the biting and the ferocious fucking. I want this. I want her. And I’m going to tell her.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s there, on the tip of my tongue the whole time. All I have to do is say it. But I don’t.

We fuck again, rough and hard, on the couch and on the floor. I leave more marks on her chest, branding her as my own. I tell her she’s mine, and I make her scream my name again, but I don’t say what I really mean.

We fuck in her bed, while we’re both tired and slightly drunk. I pump lazily into her while she lies underneath me and moans softly. I kiss her lips and tell her how gorgeous she is, and it’s not a lie because she is. I worship her body, running my tongue over every part of it, tasting her skin and her delicious arousal. I can taste my own cum as I lick into her soft folds and inside her pussy that’s been stretched and abused by my cock several times over.

There are so many opportunities and I don’t take any of them. I let her fold her body into mine as I hold her in the dark and I can say it right now. It would be easy and it would be the truth.

I want to be with you.

I want to be yours.

I want you to be mine and mine alone.

I want to stay.

But I am weak, and so I don’t.

She sleeps against me and I listen to her rhythmic breathing while I lie there wide awake. I think about all of the things I should have said. Everything I should have done and should not have done. I hate myself for all of it.

When the sun creeps in, and the faintest light is leaking through the curtains and cutting through the safety of the darkness, it all comes crashing back. I remember why I can’t stay and why those words just wouldn’t come out. The reality of the real world is glaringly obvious in the light of day and I remember all of it.

The real world is filled with everyday things like jobs and homes and bills to pay. Coworkers and families that want to meet you. Graduation and birthday parties. Movie and dinner dates, holidays and vacations. Marriage. Children. Normalcy.

There’s just no way any of that would work. I can’t fit into that life, even though I want to. I think of all of the things holding me back and they keep piling up until they are crushing me and I feel like I can’t breathe.

I am an assassin. A killer. A murderer. I have seen the end of the world and survived the most horrific things. I have PTSD and crippling anxiety. There are nightmares and paranoia and episodes of manic rage. I am old and I am tired. There is nothing left of me and nothing left to give. I am not meant for normalcy.

As I slowly remove her arm from across my chest, she stirs but she doesn’t wake. I take a moment to look at her. Her mind isn’t betraying her with vivid dreams of the world collapsing around her in a fiery blaze or sprays of bullets piercing her body. She is at peace and I am envious of that.

I am not good for her, I know that. I need to go and stay gone. She deserves stability and happiness and a million other things I cannot give her. So, I will be the asshole that leaves in the morning before she wakes, just like I always do. She will hate me and curse me and cry for me. And I will stay away this time. I have to.

I chance it by leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead. Her face wrinkles up and then relaxes again, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of the bed and out of the room, following the trail of discarded clothes and put them back on one by one. Then I am gone in the same flash of light that allowed me to enter there in the first place. A convenient exit that I have misused way too many times.

Outside, the sun is bright and the world is waking up. I can feel my resolve growing stronger as the new day builds. That was it, I am done. It was awful and I shouldn’t have done it, but it’s over now and I will not be repeating it. I am a pillar of inner strength. That was the last time and she is finally free of me. I am doing the right thing.

My strength is impressive, both inside and out. But it is not impenetrable, especially when darkness falls and the world around me grows quiet. When I am alone with nothing but my thoughts, and I just need to feel something good again.

Everyone has a weakness.

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darksxder · 1 year

Text

the good plant pollen

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

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

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

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

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

GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH BACKSTORY I'M SORRY OKAY.

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

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

*******

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

You swear it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Overall just metaphorically making them bend to kiss her feet.

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

Sometimes you wondered if he fucked her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not very far, just to your right.

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

******

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

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

You pretended to hate it.

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

But Quaritch noticed, he always did.

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

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

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

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

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

Especially then.

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

That was rare for him and it was enough.

It was enough.

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

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

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

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

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

Now you were here and he had finally found you.

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

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

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

Just Ghost.

“No. Why, Colonel?”

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

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

“Wh-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do.”

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

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

But you were too young. Painfully young.

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

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

You were just a kid.

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

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

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

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

Just as you were now.

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

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

That’s all it was.

That is all it ever could be.

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A huff.

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

Not since dying. He knew what you meant.

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

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

He laughed.

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

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

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

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

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

“Right, I- I just forgot something.”

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

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

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

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

********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You whined.

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

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry.”

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

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

Woah.

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

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

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

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

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

*******

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

Maybe there was a cure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Take the gear, wait for me and Ghost there.

Leave us alone basically.

Oh god.

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

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

“I can hear your heartbeat, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It's not a poison, Quaritch.”

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

Oh.

“Take care of it.”

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talking.”

God. Someone save him.

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

“What do you want to hear?”

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

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

“I can smell your cunt.”

A moan.

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

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

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

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

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

But he was not you.

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

“Turn around.”

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

Good God.

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

“Talk.”

It was a demand and he could meet it.

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

Jesus, he needed you.

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

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

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

“More.” Another demand.

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

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

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

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

*******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, you were going to absolutely milk his cock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you move, I'll cum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not on the lips. He would never.

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

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

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

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

You had done that.

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

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

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

Trusting.

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

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

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

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

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

It was too much.

“No problem, Ghost.”

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

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

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

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

How would he explain it all?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, the declaration of property,

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

******

bonus:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I knew it!-”

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

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

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

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

“So… what changed?”

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

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

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

But perhaps it already had…

*******

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

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

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lina-linny · 29 days

Text

summary: You were pregnant a few months ago. What will your boyfriend say if you stand in front of him again with a positive pregnancy test?

words: 1.5k

genre: fluff, comfort

Shivering, I sat next to the toilet as I felt the all too familiar feeling of morning sickness. What was that all about? I had just been pregnant and yet I was 5 weeks overdue. I had ignored it, blaming it on the previous pregnancy but now worries were slowly creeping up inside me. What if I was pregnant again? I groaned. I didn't really want to go through this unpleasant time again. But it didn't help. Staggering, I got up to go and get a pregnancy test.

~☆~

Positive. I clutched the edge of the sink. Silent, hot tears ran down my cheek. I was simply exhausted and tired. My hormones were going crazy, I'd just had a break down and still had to be quiet because my few-month-old daughter was asleep in the next room.

Shakily, I breathed in and out to calm myself down again. I had to talk to San. We were going to have a second child at some point anyway, so in theory it wasn't so bad. But I didn't want to go through all that shit again. Especially so close together.

I had hated pregnancy. Abysmally. I knew that many women were positively glowing during pregnancy, permanently happy and just looking forward to the birth.

I was the opposite. I was constantly in a bad mood, could hardly move with this huge belly and cried all the time. Depending on my mood, I either needed my boyfriend san's undivided attention (which he was more than happy to give me) or I pushed him completely away and isolated myself. Normally he was always offended if I didn't give him 100% of my attention. But during the pregnancy he hadn't complained once.

But I was so sorry. I knew that this time had been almost as draining for him as it had been for me. But he had never complained. He had always brought me everything I needed, even without me saying anything. He looked after me so well. I loved him and was so grateful for that. I didn't want to be a burden on him for another 9 damn months.

I was also incredibly scared about the birth. I mean hello? I had to push a human being out of my abdomen. The thought was immediately disgusting and painful, just thinking about the agony I had gone through during my last birth made me dread the next one, which obviously wasn't that far away.

I had to tell San. As quickly as possible. I had to talk to him. I just wanted to be in his arms. I quickly texted my boyfriend that me and our daughter Lia would pick him up from work later and he sent back a "Yay I've missed my two girls all day." back.

This was followed by several messages in which he asked how I was, whether I'd had enough to eat or drink. But I didn't have the strength to answer them.

I just sighed and crawled into bed to feel sorry for myself. But all in all, the prospect of a second child wasn't so bad. I'd just like to skip the pregnancy part.

~☆~

I hesitantly entered the KQ building. My daughter pressed against my chest. I sighed. Soon there wouldn't be two of us visiting San at his work. Soon there would be four of us.

Reluctantly, I knocked on the door of the training room and after a moment stepped through the door that separated me from the 8 Ateez members.

When I entered, we were greeted enthusiastically by everyone. Wooyoung came shooting towards me with a grin. He was about to open his mouth (probably to tease me) when Lia reached out from my arm in his direction. It was obvious that she wanted to go to him.

Wooyoung was her favorite uncle. That's why San and I had made him her godfather. Lia idolized Wooyoung and that didn't do his ego any good. He kept teasing us that our daughter would like him much more than us.

Sighing, I handed Lia over to Woo. I knew that she was always in good hands with him. He treated her like a little princess and even if the two of them would cause a lot of trouble in the future, Wooyoung would never let anything happen to her.

San looked at me worriedly. Of course my boyfriend knew that something was bothering me. He saw through my façade. He always did. No matter how well I hid my worries, he always saw that I wasn't well.

He came to me. His hands wrapped around my waist and he buried his face in the crook of my neck.

San was always touchie. As soon as I turned up, his hands were somewhere on me. Whether he took my hand, hugged me or kissed me. But his favorite thing was to hug me. He could spend hours with me cuddled up on the couch and I loved it almost as much as he did.

"I bought you flowers sweetheart... on my lunch break. They're over by my other things." He pulled me a little tighter against him and I felt my heart soar. He was so sweet and thoughtful. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve him. I smiled and pressed a kiss to his hairline.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Can we talk for a minute?" I added and San just nodded. He grabbed my hand and led me into a small side room.

He trusted Wooyoung and the other members enough to leave Lia with them. He didn't leave his little princess unattended with most other people.

Since we had our daughter, his protective instinct had become even greater. In the past, too, he had sometimes shown flashes of jealousy towards me, but since Lia was born, this had risen to another level.

~☆~

I dropped onto the chair in the room. San looked at me worriedly. I ran a hand over my face. I was very sure that I had to look really bad and tired.

I didn't know what to say. How could I tell him that I was pregnant again? How was I supposed to tell him that we had to go through all the drama again?

San gave me all the time I needed. He waited patiently and I knew he would never complain that I was taking too long or anything like that.

But I couldn't find the words. I didn't know what to say. So I pulled the positive test out of my bag. Thank goodness I had put it in my bag earlier. San looked at me in confusion until he saw what I was holding.

"Ohhh baby...." he sighed and rushed forward to wrap me in his arms. Tears streamed down my cheek.

"San, I don't want to be pregnant again. I don't want to put you through so much again. I'm so sorry I'm always so moody."

"Oh sweetheart. It's okay." He gently stroked my head. A small tear rolled down his face too. But not because he was scared, tired or stressed, but because he was happy. He was happy that his family would grow by onother member.

Since the day he met you, he knew that one day he wanted to have a family with you and now the time had come. Now you would have two children, just like you both had always dreamed of.

He didn't usually like to cry in front of others but crying in front of you was natural.

"You don't have to apologize for it. I know you're not well and I'm trying to make it as easy as possible for you. We can do this all together, ok? I promise I'll take care of you, ok baby? I'm also looking forward to our second child. I'm sure we and the members will adore it just as much as Lia."

I sobbed into his T-shirt and San pressed me against his body while he stroked my back reassuringly.

San would do anything to make my life easier and so he would do everything he could to make this pregnancy as easy as possible for me. This thought reassured me. I knew that I could rely on him.

"We can do this together..." san pressed a light kiss to the top of my head and my tears slowly dried up."

Thank you... I love you San" I clung to his muscles and San giggled.

"I love you too baby." I slowly pulled away from him, whereupon San protested and pulled me back into his arms. I laughed and he grinned too, but just kept hugging me.

We both knew it wouldn't be easy but we would make it together.

#ateez x reader #ateez #ateez oneshot #boyfriend #kpop #south korea #wooyoung #choi san #choi san x reader #choi san ateez #choi san imagines #kq entertainment #pregnancy tw

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willsimpforanyone · 1 year

Note

hey !! i absolutely adore your account. your writing is just amazing!!! i was wondering if you could do more leo valdez smuts!?

ahhhh thank you so much i'm glad you like my writing!!

this will have obligatory spanish pet names in it because i am cringe and proud k thanks also it's a flower shop/tattoo shop au because that's the best trope i don't make the rules

-----------------------------------

There was a tap on my shop door.

"Knock knock, chica, where you at?"

I rolled my eyes but grinned. "In the back," I yelled back. "Gimme a sec."

The door opened and closed, the little bell dinging, and I stripped off my black gloves. "Okay, all done! How'd you like it?"

Nico nodded approvingly at his new tarot card tattoo - Death, of course. "Looks awesome, how much do I owe you?"

"£180, because you're my favourite." I winked at him as I led him out the room.

He shook his head. "You know that's not the right price." Nico took out an envelope of cash and slid it across the counter. "£200, plus tip, don't even think about it."

He caught me before I could protest, and made to leave. "Hey Valdez."

From the sofa, Leo grinned up at him. "Hey dude, whatcha get?"

Nico pulled up his shirt sleeve to show off his new tattoo. Leo nodded approvingly. "Looks sick, Will's gonna love it." Nico coloured slightly but gave a small smile, nodded and left.

I leaned forward on the counter. "So, Valdez, what brings you to my dark corner of the world?"

He brandished the small collection of blooms he held. "Thought I'd bring it a little bit of colour." Beelining to where I had a wilting bunch of flowers in a vase, Leo swapped them out. I leant on my hand and smiled- he was right, the studio could use a little colour now and then.

"Is today the day I get to ink you?" I tapped my fingers on the wooden surface, fingers buzzing slightly from the tattoo gun.

Leo grinned. "Oh, you wish you could make your mark on this." He gestured down to himself, and I allowed myself to rake my eyes over him. His loose grey shirt was faintly patterned with roses, and his jeans clung to his legs appealingly.

"You have no idea, honey." I winked at him and got the pleasure of seeing his tan skin tinge with red.

He coughed lightly. "I don't think I'd suit tattoos, anyway." He shrugged. "Probably not, anyway."

I slipped out from behind the counter to face him. "Oh, I don't know, I wouldn't say that." I considered him carefully, as an art piece rather than a person. "Tattoos are for everyone, as long as they get something they love."

Leo shifted slightly and I reached out for his arm. He let me take it. "See, I'd do a flowering vine-" I ran my fingers down his left forearm. "-along here, delicate but thick enough not to get lost in your skin."

"Oh yeah?"

I nodded, reaching up to his shoulder. "Perhaps your favourite flower, or a flower of significance, resting on your shoulder." Carefully, carefully coming to rest a finger on his chest. "A little something here, anything you'd like, just for you."

Leo had frozen, deep brown eyes fixed on my face. I took a step back, not missing where Leo swayed towards me just slightly.

"Of course, it's up to you." Just for the hell of it, I decided to push my luck. "I have a few other ideas of how I could mark you, should you be interested."

I heard him let out a shaky breath and push dark curls behind his ears. Silently, I prayed that I didn't push it too far and scare him off. The crush I'd been harbouring for the past two months squeezed my heart.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, god I hope I'm not wrong, but we're very much not talking about tattoos anymore, are we?"

I turned round to see Leo with his hands clenched by his side and his lip being worried between his teeth. Slowly, I shook my head.

"No, not tattoos. Or rather, the kind that would fade in a couple days and are made with my mouth against your neck."

"Oh thank fuck." Leo relaxed and reached out, pulling me close and pressing his lips to mine.

Instantly my arms were wrapped around his neck and I was grinning like an idiot. For a brief moment I wondered if I had any more clients today but a quick glance at the clock told me it was past 6pm, closing time. Regretfully I pulled away from Leo and he pouted.

"What's wrong?"

I disentangled myself from his arms, racing to the door to lock it and turn the 'open' sign to 'closed' before returning to pull Leo's face down to mine. "Absolutely nothing, hermoso, nothing at all."

Leo let out a throaty groan and looped his fingers in my belt loops to pull me closer. "Woman, you are driving me insane." He kissed me hard, hips pressing againt mine and I felt heat flame in my stomach, looping and curling.

"Hey-" In between kisses, I tried to talk. "-I live-" Kiss. "-literally right upstairs-" Kiss. "-if you want to-" Kiss. "-take this further."

Leo pulled back this time, massive grin on his flushed face, already looking a mess. "Oh hell yeah, lead the way."

It took only moments to take his hand and lead him through my studio, up the stairs and into the flat I owned above my shop. I shut the door behind us and pinned Leo to it, fingers twisting and gently tugging at his hair. He whined and slipped his hands under my shirt, smoothing them along my stomach. "Do I get to see your tattoos?" He panted, eyes dark with want.

"Maybe, if you ask nicely." I winked at him. "But I believe I was going to give you a few."

"As many as you want, mi amor, whatever you want." Oh, this was going to be fun.

I pulled him away from the door and practically dragged him to my bedroom. I pointed to the pillows. "Sit."

He did it without question and I got a thrill of satisfaction. I crawled over to him, throwing a thigh over his lap and settling into his lap. Serious time for a moment. "If you want to stop at any point, let me know, okay?"

Leo nodded. "Same goes for you."

Cute. I pressed my lips to his gently, softly, a small thank you for being receptive. I shifted myself forward a little, until my hips were almost against his. My lips ghosted over his lips one last time before I swept along his jawline. I felt his hands hovering over my waist, my hips, my thighs, before I took his wrists and settled him on the tops of my thighs. "I'm not fragile, baby."

"Oh, I'm sure you're not, but if we keep going like this, I might be."

I rested my hands on his chest. "I'll try not to break you." Leaning in closer, I kissed just below his ear. "At least, not this time."

He whimpered, fingers digging into my flesh beneath my jeans.

I dragged my mouth along the planes of his neck, skin warm and heartbeat pounding beneath it. Finding his pulse point, I gave it a gentle suck, feeling Leo inhale sharply. "Good?"

He let out a shuddery breath. "Very good."

That was all the encouragement I needed. I nipped hard up and down his neck, leaving a trail of blossoming red in my wake. I bit purple roses and violets, tattooing the little moans and gasps from him into his skin. His collarbone was decorated with faint teeth marks, each one marked with the memory of a twist of his hips.

I pulled back briefly to tug at his button-down and he nodded emphatically, practically ripping it off so I could continue to kiss and bite and suck at his overheated skin.

"Hey," he breathed, tapping my thigh. "I made a questioning noise, still buried in his neck. "Hey, if you don't stop we're gonna have a problem that can only be solved with doing laundry and I don't think you have jeans my size."

"So what? I think that's sexy as fuck." I continued to work on the large brand I was sucking into his skin.

"My point still stands." He ran his hand up my back and into my hair, gently tugging to pull me away. I let a moan slip before I could catch it and Leo raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up," I poked at a hickey and he hissed. "You look like you got too enthusiastic with watercolour paints."

He rolled his eyes and before I could register the action, he flipped us round so he was hovering above me, elbows supporting him. "You've had your fun, reducing me to a whimpery mess, now it's my turn."

I bit my lip at the look in his eyes, suddenly feeling that I was wearing far too many clothes.

Waiting for any indication that he should stop, Leo dragged my shirt over my head as best he could, leaving me in a bra and my jeans. He caught his breath as he saw my tattoos. I was covered in them, an art gallery of my favourite things done by some of my favourite people. Reverently, he traced a finger over the lines and I shivered, goosebumps mottling my skin.

"Holy shit, you're gorgeous."

I gave a breathy laugh. "What, only just noticed?"

Leo shook his head, deadly serious. "No, you're always gorgeous, this is just... a new part of the gorgeous that I've never seen before."

My cheeks felt hot and I wriggled under him at the compliments. "You gonna do something about it, or?"

His eyes flicked up to mine. "What, you don't think I'd fuck you into next week if I had the chance?"

I didn't have a chance to formulate a retort. He deftly undid the fastening on my jeans and dipped his hand into them. I arched my back at the contact and Leo swore. "God, you're soaked, hermosa, glad to see I'm not the only one on the edge."

My hand made weak contact with his arm and he laughed. "Very much not a bad thing, very much a 'sexy as fuck' thing."

"Just fuckin' touch me, Valdez."

"As you wish."

He slipped a finger inside my pussy, and my eyes rolled back. Marking him up may have affected me more than I let on. "M-more, Leo, I need more."

Obediently, he added another finger, and another, curling all three so deliciously inside me. My hands were clutching at his shoulders, at the pillows, the bedspread, I was sure I looked a mess but Leo looked at me like I'd hung the stars in the damn sky.

"So fucking pretty, so beautiful, I'm gonna take you out on a proper date tomorrow, I swear." He muttered promises and affections and it was all I could do to not come right there, impaled on his fingers and whining desperately.

When his hand pulled away I nearly sobbed before he was kissing my face, murmuring reassurances. "I know, I know, but I gotta get your jeans and panties off, okay? You want me to fuck you, right?"

That gave me a little clarity, and I allowed him to tug off the rough demin both from me and from him. I threw myself to the side, rummaging around in my bedside table before triumphantly producing a foil packet.

Leo accepted the gift and I got to see him slip on the condom and bite his lip to not come from the contact.

"Leo." He looked up at me, curls a mess, lips slightly swollen.

"Fuck me into next week."

He pounced on me, hands grasping at my hips to pull me flush against him. The pads of his fingers tightened and I allowed myself a moment to imagine the bruises they would leave after this.

He guided his cock in between my thighs, pausing right at the entrance. "You all good?"

I smiled. "So very good."

He pushed into me with one swift motion and I cried out, feeling so full and so good. Leo pounded into me, looking as desperate as I felt. He buried his face into my neck. "Okay, super lame but I am not gonna last long."

"Super not lame." My voice sounded wrecked. "Super fucking hot that I got you that worked up. You are super welcome to come whenever you want."

I felt him smile against my skin. "You first."

His hand reached down in a feat of strength with how hard he was thrusting into me, and he began pushing circles into my clit. My head tilted back and Leo pressed sharp kisses into the exposed flesh.

The sensations were too much and would never ever be enough and I tilted my hips just right so he was hitting just right inside me and the thin line keeping me tethered snapped.

My nails dug into his shoulders and I came hard, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure and excitement and with just enough clarity I felt Leo's hips stutter as my pussy clamped down on his dick as I came. His swearing was muffled into my skin but he pushed into me as much as he could, coming with almost a shout.

There was a moment of quiet, the two of us remembering how to breathe and enjoying the feeling of being connected. It was with simultaneous groans that Leo pulled out of me, flopping to my side and pressing absent kisses to my shoulder.

"Well," he breathed. "How do my new tattoos looks?"

I ran my fingers over my masterpiece. "I'd say they look pretty good, if I do say so myself."

-----------------------------

yes i did get carried away lol hope you enjoyed and thank you for requesting!

#leo valdez #leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez imagine #leo imagine #leo valdez smut #leo valdez x reader smut #florist!leo #tattoo artist!reader #tattoo shop au #flower shop au

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chroniclesofbts · 3 months

Text

Call Me Home Part 3

Idol hybrid BTS x hybrid foreigner reader

Warnings: implied sexual themes, smut, angst, fluff, polyamorous relationship

If you’re not 18+ please, do not interact.

As always, my works do not represent BTS in any way, this is purely a work of fiction.

*short chapter, I cut this part in half because it was so long*

Y/N's POV

Coming to, I can hear voices around me and an annoying beeping. Listening intently I hear the words, "not heat", "too risky", "trauma", and "management". The monitor attached to my heart gave away that I was waking up, the beeping increasing. My eyes flutter open, the light blinding me initially.

"Hey, welcome back. You really scared me there" Jin said softly, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. "I thought my face was just too handsome for you" he joked to lighten the mood.

"How are you feeling Miss... ?" A woman in scrubs asked

"Fine, head is a little heavy, I'm a little sore too. What happened?" I questioned

"You passed out in the shower with Jin. You didn't hit your head or anything, he managed to hold you up and call Jungkook for help." I flushed at the thought of Jungkook seeing me naked. "Can I ask you some personal questions?" The doctor asked gently, "Your pack can stay here or leave if you feel uncomfortable at any time"

"Um, s-sure" I stuttered

"Do you have any nightmares?"

"Oh, uh yeah, most people do though" I joke

"How many a week?" She says writing things down on a clipboard.

"Uh it depends, maybe like 5?" Jin's hand finds mine, and holds it in a comforting manor.

"Do you ever feel numb?" She continues

"Yeah, I guess if I get too overwhelmed I do." I answer honestly

"Do you feel like you startle easily? Have trouble concentrating?"

"Sometimes" I answer, starting to close in on myself.

"Last question, where do you see yourself in the future?"

"I mean, how far out? I see myself with the pack, for as long as I have left" I answer, feeling Jimin lean his head on my shoulder from the right side where he was sitting.

"I see, thank you for answering my questions, I will talk to your packs leader and you should be able to go back to their dorms in the next few hours." She smiled, motioning to Namjoon to follow her.

"How long was I asleep?" I ask Jimin

"3 days, you must have been tired and your body was recovering from the shock to your system with the pills you took." Jimin explained.

"Why was she asking all of those questions?" I ask him nervously, "Did I do something wrong, are you going to replace me?" I whimper

"No! No, baby, never" Jin said, squeezing my hand. "We just want to make sure we can help you, make sure we can be enough for you"

"Oh, why?" I mumble confused as I feel myself blush.

"Because you deserve the perfect pack" Jimin said, pushing his nose further into my scent gland.

"Wait, I thought I was in heat" I look at Jin, who looks away bashfully.

"Your body has never had a heat, it wasn't ready for a heat, your body was fighting the medicine, it caused you to get sick. Right before you passed out I could smell the shift in your hormones, I just didn't figure it out until you passed out. I, o-overwhelmed your b-body. I c-caused it, I am so sorry" He cried, "we don't deserve to be your pack, we couldn't even take care of you as soon as we got you"

"Jin, I don't blame you. It's not your fault, how could anyone have known? You caught me, right? I didn't get a concussion. It's okay"

Before he could respond, Namjoon came in the door followed by a man I had never met before.

"This is Sejin, one of our managers. After talking with the medical staff, we think it's best to start you on a month of medicine to encourage a natural heat cycle. This will also give your body time to adjust to being in a pack, as well as let your mind work through everything that has happened recently. With the rush of moving and education, now this, your body and mind are overwhelmed. We want to make sure you're completely healthy and ready." Namjoon explained as the nurses started to detach me from all of the medical equipment.

"Take it easy for the first week, bed rest for the first 5 days at least. Your body is recovering and we don't want anything to delay the process." The nurse explained.

"Here, we brought you some clothes, its ours, but we will get you your own soon" Jungkook said, handing me some clothes that smell like all of them. He helped me up with a blush and led me to the connected bathroom to change. I quickly changed into the sweatpants and shirt, pulling the drawstrings so they fit move comfortably. I opened the door and found him waiting outside, eyes widening, pupils dilating, at me in their clothes. He extended his hand to me and started to walk me over the the wheelchair.

"I don't need that" I said, trying to pull out of his grip.

"Okay" Jungkook smirked, sweeping me off my feet, "but you can't walk, doctors orders. I prefer this way too" he winked.

"W-wait, actually, the chair l-looks fine" I stuttered through my embarrassment.

"Sorry, cutie, I like this way" He smiled, staring at me with a fondness I haven't seen yet. He carries me through the lobby and outside to the waiting car. Jimin's mouth dropped open as he whined about how unfair it was that he got to carry me, causing a few others to grumble too. He hands me to Namjoon, who pulls me close in his lap, shoving his face into my neck and relaxing. The drive was filled with lots of joking and flirting, I swear my face was always flushed. Jin steals me away from Namjoon to carry me inside and up the stairs to their room. It has a large bed where they obviously sleep all together, lots of pillows and blankets resembling a den. Jin gently lowered me into their den, showing through actions that he could care for me. I immediately relaxed, realizing that even being surrounded by predators, I was safe. I let my eyes flutter closed, my body pulling me under with exhaustion. The last thing I register is a body laying down gently next to me, in their animal form, their purring lulling me deeper into dreamland.

Taglist open (please let me know if I missed you): @dachshunddame @minjianhyung @minhanbyeol

#bts ot7 #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #park jimin #bts

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lordeemailarchive · 7 months

Text

how I’ve been, revised

(20/09/2023) (Solar Institute Bulletin No. 22) (From London)

Aftershow quiet in Helsinki

Hey,

I just finished writing you a long letter, catching you up on how I’ve been. It ended neatly, tied with a little bow. I chose my words well, but I didn’t tell the truth. So I’m starting again, gonna type and not look back, and send what comes out.

I’m in London, have been since May. Things feel clear here. I haven’t seen many friends; mostly, I’m alone with my thoughts. I go swimming, I go to work, I walk home or take the train, I eat in my kitchen, I go to bed thinking about what I’m making. I’m starting to miss my friends and family, like a vitamin I’m deficient in. Soon I’ll be going back to New York, and then home.

I’m living with heartbreak again. It’s different but the same. I ache all the time, I forget why and then remember. I’m not trying to hide from the pain, I understand now that pain isn’t something to hide from, that there’s actually great beauty in moving with it. But sometimes I’m sick of being with myself. I eat chocolate to try and manipulate the endorphins, bring back the sweet happiness of Easter morning. I sit in the time machine and wait for it to move, but it hasn’t been invented yet.

My body is really inflamed, it’s trying to tell me something and I’m trying to support it but nothing seems to help and I get frustrated. My gut isn’t working properly, my skin is worse than ever, I’ve gotten sick half a dozen times. I realised earlier this year that listening to my body is hard for me, it’s something I never really learned how to do. I’ve been trying to teach myself that this year, but it’s been hard actually, pretty confronting, has made me fully aware of all the times I ignored it or didn’t give it what it needed, shamed it for a fight or flight response, took a handful of pills and pushed through. The little yellow pill I took every morning for thousands of mornings since I was 15, I stopped taking it 5 days ago. Gonna see how it goes.

I go online and look at everyone. Beautiful people sing to me. Everyone’s gotten really good at the same thing. I look at arched backs and wet flower mouths, the right bag, the right sunglasses. I wonder if it feels as good as it looks, it’s been so long since I chose the best picture from a hundred, lined it up like pulling an arrow taut in a bow, and let it go. Everyone looks very thin. Just thinking that makes me feel tired and far away. I’m not sure if it’s having an effect on anyone else. I keep spending money, wondering if what’s in the package will make me feel right, but I guess I buy the wrong things. I was gonna go to fashion week in Paris, had all these grand plans, but this week I txted my manager and pulled out. At the start of my career I promised myself I’d never be one of the people in the light smiling if it wasn’t real.

Earlier this year, I ate two handfuls of mushrooms, solid doses that tasted like green dirt. I got a lot of information about what my body had been through in our time so far, what it needed, where God was and where God wasn’t; I felt in my bones how destabilising it is to leave home and start a new life the way I did. I also saw that my body is completely magnificent, and that hating it is as futile as hating a tree; that I truly, truly love doing my job, and that my life is like a beautiful tapestry, and every inch of it is precious and has meaning.

It might seem funny or be easy to forget, but I make records because I need to. The songs are spells; a spell to let go of something, a spell to unlock a door. Every time I put something into words just as I see it, set it to the right music, a knot comes loose in me. But it hurts too, confronting the knots. I’ve made enough records to know that this feeling of my skin coming off is part of it. I know I’m gonna look back on this year with fondness and a bit of awe, knowing it was the year that locked everything into place, the year that transitioned me from my childhood working decade to the one that comes next — one that even through all this, I’m so excited for. It’s just hard when you’re in it.

So in this state, I went out on a short European festival tour. We built a cool new version of the show in a couple days. It was good to change gears and get out of my head. I put effort into the show, changing the setlist and arrangements, it was cool how you picked up on that, and it felt good dancing to the new versions with you, looking out at you, all sweaty with your friends, all on the same drugs. I felt the throb of history that’s under this music now, how each year makes these songs feel more like collectively written and sung pieces. I left my body and merged with yours and it was ecstasy. Then I went home to a business hotel and washed the glitter and smoke out of my hair.

Lauren took some beautiful pictures — sharing a few with you here.

Backstage in Portugal.

Cute Polaroid series of the 6pm, 8pm, and 10pm versions of me on a show day.

I’ve read some great books recently, including Drive Your Plow over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk, Speedboat by Renata Adler, Motherhood by Sheila Heti, Rough Translations by Molly Giles (brought into my life by sweet angel bookworm Chris Chang), Birds of America by Lorrie Moore; am waiting on my copies of ĀRIA by Jessica Hinerangi and Te Ana Ata: Menstruation In The Pre-Colonial Maori World by Ngāhuia Murphy. Was given Wawata - Moon Dreaming by Dr. Hinemoa Elder which I’m loving looking to as the Maramataka evolves.

It was Te Wiki o Te Reo Māori last week, I loved listening to this from London. This vid from Hemi showing the similarities between te reo Māori and ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi is so sick.

Been meaning to tell you about The Kindness Institute too, a mental health resource for Māori rangatahi that has recently lost government funding. Go check out the beautiful, necessary mahi they’re doing — I know the cost of living is cooked for Kiwis right now and pop stars asking people to donate sux, but if you work at a good sized company maybe you can wrangle a donation from your employers?! I’m gonna email my record company about it.

Other bits that have inspired lately:

Dieter Rams’ principle of “as little design as possible”. This fantastic interview with Thom Yorke. Maddie’s unbelievably beautiful Melo inspired tattoo.

Loving the beautiful new Troye songs and vids, Kelela’s Raven hitting right on the e-bike rides home, late to the magic of Frou Frou but glad I’m here, and the rest of my brain is M.T. Hadley, this great Te Whanganui-a-Tara based band Womb, and Talk Talk. And for those it concerns, have been pilled by parasocial big cousins Jason and Chris. My mum just sent me a Sylvia Plath poem that feels like it sums up the above, I’ll copy it here:

They thought death was worth it, but I Have a self to recover, a queen. Is she dead, is she sleeping? Where has she been, With her lion-red body, her wings of glass?

Now she is flying More terrible than she ever was, red Scar in the sky, red comet Over the engine that killed her— The mausoleum, the wax house.

Sylvia Plath, "Stings"

Hope you’re taking care of yourself. Don’t worry about me, I still laugh every day, it’s all moving, even when it goes slow. I’ve accepted the mission — I have a self to recover.

Speak soon, E X X X X X

(source: received this email)

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

tysm for answering my question about corr! I'm so happy to be your first request for him :D could you please write something about reader being anxious about meeting his family on mandalore to the point of not being able to sleep, because she's estranged from her own family? I think he'd be so sweet and comforting <3

Family Meeting

Summary: Corr has been planning on introducing you to his family for ages now, especially since you're now living together, but the closer the day comes, the more anxious you become.

Pairing: Corr Skirata x F!Reader

Word Count: 1462

Warnings: Anxiety, mentions of an abusive family

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: You're welcome for answering your ask! I'm more than happy to answer any questions! Thank you for sending in someone new for me to write (thought Wookieepedia was not helpful about his personality, lol). I hope you like it! I also made a new divider specifically for this story! Yay!

It’s late.

Super late.

Late enough that even your Tooka has gone to sleep, and you, rather tellingly, are still awake. Awake and in the kitchen, anxiously kneading dough to make more bread.

And, you really, really don’t need any more bread.

Tomorrow you are supposed to meet Corr’s family. And he’s so, so excited to introduce you, and you’re trying, so very hard, to be excited too. This is Corr’s family. They’re so, so important to him, and so they should be to you.

But every time you think about an actual family meeting you feel a little sick.

Annoyingly, at this point, the anxiety has grown to the point where you’re not able to sleep. Every time you try to close your eyes to get some rest, the anxiety becomes worse, and you were starting to run the risk of waking Corr, so you just got up.

Your perfect man could sleep through a bombing, you’re pretty sure, so you puttering around the kitchen shouldn’t wake him up.

The biggest problem, you suppose, is that you don’t know what a family is supposed to look like. You haven’t spoken to your own parents since you were a young teenager, and you cut the rest of your family off as soon as you turned 18 and were legally able to do so.

And you know, know, that Corr would sooner sell his prosthetic arms than introduce you to people who might hurt you. Not to mention that these are his brothers and his dad-

But you can’t just forget your family’s words. How they looked the other way when your grandmother was pushing her eating disorder on you. How they blamed you for being in the hospital when you got too sick to survive. How they forbade you from getting the medical attention you needed. How they took and took and took until there was nothing left to take.

How they blamed you when you had nothing left to give.

No. To you, family has always meant pain and hunger and cold and suffering-

But this is Corr, so, naturally, you’re going to grit your teeth and put up with it because he’s more important to you than anything. Even if it does feel a little bit like torture.

You jump at the sound of bare feet scuffing against the floor, and strong arms slide around your waist, “Cyare,” Corr whines your petname, his voice thick with sleep, “Why are you baking at 2 in the morning? People sleep at 2 in the morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” You say, honestly, “Did I wake you?”

“I rolled over to wrap myself around you, and you weren’t there.” Corr sleepily nuzzles just under your ear, “I thought something was wrong. Not that you were trying to single handedly bake enough bread for all of Mandalore.”

You look at the bowls of rising dough, there are five of them so far, and then over at the three loaves of bread you already finished, “...I was thinking I’d make cookies next,” You admit guiltily.

He sighs, and presses a light kiss under your ear, “Cyare, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

“Don’t lie. I know you bake when you’re worried about something.”

“Do not.”

“Do so.” He lightly pinches your waist, “Come on, cyare. Now I know something is wrong. Tell me.”

“I…you…it’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb if it’s keeping you awake.” Corr replies logically.

You scowl and press the dough roughly, “How dare you use logic when I’m having an anxiety spiral.”

“Because I know you respond better to logic than emotion when you’re like this,” He kisses your cheek, “What are you so anxious about?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” He kisses your cheek again and again, and then he spins you so you’re facing him and then pulls you flush against him, and you squeak as you press your flour covered hands against his bare chest for balance.

“Sorry-”

“It’s just flour, it’ll wash off. I’ve had worse on me.” Corr replies, unconcerned, his dark eyes scanning your face, “Should I try and guess what’s bothering you?”

“You should go back to sleep-” You say with a frown.

Corr leans in and kisses the tip of your nose, “Let’s see…are you worried about the new washer being delivered at the end of the week?”

“No.” You pause, and your brow furrows, “Wait, should I be?”

“Nope. It’s all taken care of.” He trails kisses from the tip of your nose to just under your eyes, “Are you anxious about money?”

“Not today.” You grumble.

“Good, because we have more than enough,” Corr says cheerfully, before he trails his lips from under your eye to your ear, “Hm…are you worried about…the garden?”

You release a quiet laugh, “You mean the dead garden? No.”

“Yeah, we really screwed that one up, didn’t we? We’ll do better next year.” Corr promises, he kisses down your jaw, and then pulls back, “Are you worried about meeting my family tomorrow?”

Your stomach drops, and you immediately avert your gaze, “...no.”

Corr slides his hands up your sides to press them against your cheeks, gently adjusting your head so you’re meeting his gaze, “Oh, cyare. You don’t have anything to worry about. They’re going to love you as much as I do.”

“...I highly doubt that.”

“Alright, yeah.” Corr grins, “I don’t think anyone loves you as much as I do. Because you’re so smart and kind and gentle-”

You huff and press your finger against his lips, “Corr.”

“Sorry. I just think you’re amazing and you deserve to know it.” Corr replies with a lopsided grin, “Anyway, you have no reason to be worried about my family, because they’re going to love you because I love you.”

“Corr, my own family saw me as a resource to be exploited-”

“Your family isn’t worth the air the breath,” Corr interrupts, his gaze serious, “And if I ever have the displeasure to meet the people who made you think so poorly of yourself, I’m going to introduce them to my blasters.”

“That seems excessive.”

“It really, really isn’t.” Corr disagrees, then his gaze softens, “Cyare, my family isn’t like your family. They’re not going to mistreat you.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts,” He leans in and bumps his forehead against yours, “Would I ever introduce you to people who might hurt you?”

“You haven’t so far.” You admit.

“And I never will.”

You hesitate but you don’t say anything for a moment, and he lightly strokes your cheek with his thumb, “Cyare, do you trust me?”

“Stupid question, of course I trust you.”

“Then trust me on this. This meeting is going to go great, because if my brothers do anything to upset you I’m going to shoot them.”

You blink at him, startled, and he flashes a sheepish smile, “I’m a little nervous about introducing you to them too. Not because I’m worried that they might hurt you, but because they know everything about me, and I’m worried that they might change your opinion of me.” He pauses, “I also may have mentioned to Kal’buir that you didn’t have the best family-”

“Corr!”

“No details. Just that you’re a little hesitant about family things, and he’ll keep everyone under control. I promise.” He tries to reassure, “I didn’t want anyone to walk in to think blind, cyare. That’s all.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Just that your family mistreated you, you’re still recovering from it, and that you’re prone to anxiety in new situations. That’s all. I wouldn’t betray your trust like that, cyare.”

You sigh and close your eyes, “I know. And, thinking about it, I suppose it’s not the end of the world if you tell them.” Though you don’t sound sure about it.

Corr drops his hand back to your hip, “I won’t tell them anything until you’re ready.” He squeezes your hip gently, “Are you ready to try and sleep, cyare?”

“...yeah, I can try.”

“Good girl,” He kisses you quickly, “This time I’ll cuddle with you until you fall asleep, cyare.” Corr kisses you one more time, “And the next time you’re too anxious to sleep, tell me. I’d rather comfort you earlier so you can sleep, than for you to be stewing in your own anxiety on your own for hours.”

You duck your head, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad. Just worried.” Corr tilts your head back to kiss you one last time, “I love you after all.”

“I love you too.” With Corr’s help, you get all of the dough stored in the fridge, and then he drags you to bed, and curls himself around you, and finally, finally, you’re able to drift off to sleep with the sound of his heartbeat steady in your ear.

#star wars #tcw #corr skirata x reader #corr x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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thedreadpiratematt · 4 months

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I'm sad and I'm not always great at processing sadness and I think it's supposed to be good to write things out so I'm doing that now. I'm sad because:

-My Great Uncle Ed died this morning, he was almost 101 years old. We didn't get down to see him but once every few years, but when I was a child he was like another grandpa to me. Even with a five hour drive I'm sad we never made it a bigger priority to see him at least once a year. But I'm glad he's at peace and I'm glad I got to introduce him to Christina this Spring.

-Christina has been bad sick with a stomach bug since halfway through Christmas Day, and I feel awful for her, what a miserable way to spend the holidays :( she was sick for 7 of our 8 hours driving home from Illinois on the 25th, and she was too sick to go to her extended family's (belated) Christmas Eve on Wednesday. This leads to

-Christina is still sick today, our 5 year anniversary. Having to cancel our reservations at a real nice place tonight, and she's not even feeling well enough for our traditional donuts from the shop where I asked her to be my girlfriend. But I'm happy she really loved the gift I got her :)

-It is highly likely she won't be able to attend her family's already twice pushed back Christmas day tomorrow :(

-we've basically been living as hermits this entire time in the same house. I'm living in the living room and sleeping on the couch while she takes our bedroom so as to hopefully avoid me getting sick, which has thankfully worked so far. But I've also been off work this whole time for various reasons, so I've had very little social interaction and I'm a pretty big extrovert.

-NYE plans maybe cancelled too?

-the living room is a mess and I need to make my habitat more habitable to feel better, but the old executive dysfunction/sadness combo has me on the ropes :(

I feel much worse for Christina than I do for myself, but I am still sad.

Now, I'm going to get some sunlight, and some breakfast, and maybe a little smoke and I'll take my day from there. Wish me luck!

#personal #sad #feel free to read or whatever #i just used the readmore so as not to clog up your dash with whining if you don't want to see it #if you did read though ❤️❤️❤️

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dollsonmain · 8 months

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I know folks are probably getting tired of this by now so you get a tag AND a cut.

But I feel like discussing this sort of thing might help people sometimes? since it's a first person account instead of listicles online.

What they did and didn't tell me about having stents.

They told me why: Facilitates drainage which takes strain (pressure) off of the kidneys and helps the antibiotics work by helping prevent pockets of infected urine reforming (that's what was making me sick, stuck urine that had built up lots of bacteria).

They told me how-ish: They go up with various catheters and things and install the stents, the stents stay in place until they are removed. Some stents have lines that exit the body to facilitate removal. Mine do not. The doc didn't want me accidentally pulling them out since the area they're in is heavily infected. They'll be removed at my first stone removal surgery in about two weeks from installation which was a couple days ago.

They did not tell me how-completely: The stents are hooked into my body meat like little fish hooks. They also didn't tell me they'd be taking urine for testing from my bladder and each kidney or that they would also be draining both kidneys during the procedure, so I did get a fluid-pressure reset.

They did not tell me basically anything about what the next two weeks will be like.

I'm on flowmax to soften my bladder so it's easier to empty. I don't think I needed that, I was peeing fine, but stents do change things.

I was worried that I might push them out while pooping but that's not likely to the point of nearly impossible. Not 100%, but nearly.

These things feel like a bad UTI and I have two of them. I got the ows, the zaps, the GOTTA GOs every few minutes. At least now I know that ALL of those pains are UTI pains, you know? I'd get some random pain sometimes and be like "what was that......" and now I know. It was UTI and pressure in my kidneys and the pain signals were traveling around the whole renal system. Because they do that.

I'm in a lot more pain now than I was with just the kidney stones. It is very, VERY atypical but my kidney stones and the pressure behind them don't hurt. Those nerves may have died off.

There's varying amounts of blood in my urine, sometimes very little, sometimes a lot. Sometimes there are clots. That's all normal but I had to ask as things were happening.

I get up every couple hours in the night and some times I don't make it to the toilet (I did all last night, so that is improving).

They also didn't warn me that just having the surgery itself might make me wet myself because the muscles hadn't all regained strength/how long it would take for the anesthesia to fully wear off.

I called the doctor's office and asked about that, too.

I'm glad I thought to have That Guy bring Depends but that's also something you'd think someone would like, mention. You know?

So that's what having stents has been like so far.

Feels like a bad UTI, though for some people they feel nothing. Need adult diapers for accidents. Need to be near a toilet at all times, and not going to get a hell of a lot of continuous sleep for a while.

I also think it's worth noting that I've had two male doctors blow me off about this and I think the only thing that went differently at the ER was that it was a female doctor.

The first male doctor said it was an anxiety attack.

The second male doctor said it was a viral stomach bug.

The female doctor listened to my symptoms and ordered a bunch of tests.

So, more personal blather about the whole situation.

While I was in the first ER I heard a man yelling and starting trouble in the waiting room. That Guy and Son got up and left as soon as the man was distracted by a security guy. I'd had told them to go home as soon as they dropped me off and I would text if I needed picked up. I knew I wasn't going home, though.

My neighbor was an elderly lady and they kept trying to figure out when she'd last pooped but she couldn't remember. Finally she called them in and was like I need to poop so they wrestled her up on a bed pan (she cried, she was in a lot of pain) and then left her alone with her curtain closed to poop. Right then the floor doctor walked in and was like HI MISS GERALDINE and whipped her curtain open to start talking to her.

...

I chewed him out. That's very atypical of me. Like, I laid into him for not asking if she was wanting to talk in that exact moment. And then I felt really bad until I realized he's probably had people a lot more angry at him than me considering a lot of the patients I could hear were elderly and some were confused, and I didn't feel bad anymore.

Since it's a university-run hospital there were sometimes pairs of nurses, and at one point a trainee came in to give me a dose of antibiotics through the IV but she hooked it into the wrong plug which depressurized the system and blood starting backing up the tube. As soon as she saw that she ran to get her trainer and they spent some time doing a full reset of the IV set up.

I wasn't worried or anything. It was my own blood and it could only go so far/only so much could be lost. At the most a cup since the saline bag was fresh and mostly full, still. So I was totally calm the whole time, which I'm sure helped.

I think the nurse in training was surprised when her trainer stepped out and I encouraged her instead of yelling at her. I praised her for not being too proud to get help when she noticed an issue, and for observing how to rectify the situation.

That Guy was like "Yesterday's nurses did NOT like me..." and I was like yeah I kind of told on you, but not out loud. He got put on the shit list FAST by staff. So for that I have a note in my account that I'm experiencing financial abuse and he exhibits controlling behavior. If there ever is a point where Son and I have to leave, I have the name of where to call. There's a facility in Next Town Over where the hospital is that will come and get us, and that would be the last time we see him.

I feel guilty for saying anything because he has paid for my existence for decades but he has also been abusive, just not physically.

They asked me if Son is safe at home alone with That Guy and I said "Safe, yes. Happy, no."

They also asked like how is Son and I said he seems to understand that his father's behavior isn't his fault but he still has had to endure it.

I also in the process learned how much money he makes (I didn't know before) and wow we should all certainly have insurance (he and Son might through his work but I have nothing and don't qualify for assistance while he claims me on his taxes as a dependent) and have had medical care all this time and there's no reason at all to be doing the whole -pointedly look at the food receipt every grocery trip, look up at the sky angrily, shake his head, shove it in his pocked, huff, and walk away- thing. Also explains why his work friends keep suggesting burger joints that end up costing like $80 for the whole family....

#tiffygotsick

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yelenasdiary · 2 years

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Scarlett Johansson x Reader

where reader was abused verbally, physically and sexually by someone in her family in her childhood.

And after a breakdown reader talk with scarlett ? Angst,fluff,hurt,comfort

Finally Free

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x Reader

Summary: Scarlett learns something about you that you’ve kept to yourself for far too long.

Heavy Angst, Fluff and Comfort | 2.7K |18+ ONLY! | Warnings: Mental, Physical and Sexual Abuse of a minor. PTSD, Trauma, Scars, Suicidal thoughts,Reader & Scarlett are close in age.

AC: Before you scroll to read this, please only read this if you are truly comfortable. In this, I cover such a dark and uncomfortable topic. Being somebody who unfortunately has been through this myself, I just want anybody to read this to know that you are loved, you are worth more than you might think. If you have experienced anything related to the topics in this fic, I want you to know my DMs are ALWAYS open. You don’t have to tell me anything, if you just want a friend to listen, I am here. With that, I hope this fic somehow brings comfort.

IMPORTANT: if you or anybody you know who might be suffering from the effects of such a crime, please seek professional help or talk to somebody you truly trust. I promise you that people are there to listen and help. You are not alone, I promise.

Scarlett always knew when you were having one of your off days. A day where everything just didn’t work out for you. You’d wake up feeling numb, emotionless, cold but also oddly warm. These days could get dark for you, locking yourself away in the bedroom while you dealt with the trauma the only way you knew how. Scarlett worried about you during this time, she wanted nothing more than to have you talk to her and let her in, just so she could have an idea of what was going on, but she never pushed you.

Today was one of those days. You woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare that replayed the events that took place many years ago. Chills covered your body, you felt sick, tears felt down the sides of your face while you laid looking up at the ceiling. Scarlett woke up shortly after to you, she turned on her side and saw your state. You weren’t mentally there and see knew that. Gently her index finger brushed against your right cheek bringing you back to her.

“There you are” she softly smiled when your saddened eyes looked into her green eyes, “do you want to talk about it?” she asked already knowing the answer. You shook your head without saying a word. Scarlett lent over and placed a loving kiss on your cheek, “whenever you’re ready, you know I’m always here for you” she whispered getting no response from you.

She laid with you for a while longer until you sat up, tears still flowing down your cheeks. She hated seeing you broken and hurt and not knowing why but she knew if you wanted too, you’d talk to her when you were ready.

Scarlett noticed your left thumb would rub over the scar on your right arm, a scar she never knew the backstory on. Slowly, Scarlett placed her hand over your left to stop the rubbing, “do you want a coffee? Some breakfast?” she asked trying to take your mind off the images replaying in your mind. You looked at with teary eyes and shook your head once more. “I just to be alone” you mumbled.

“Honey, I don’t think today you should be alone” she replied, “something is bothering you and I’m not going to push it, but I am worried” she adds.

“I’m okay Scar” your eyes dropped to her hand still on top of yours. “No, honey, you’re not and that’s okay. We don’t have to talk but I don’t want to leave you by yourself right now”

Early on in your relationship, Scarlett picked up that you would experience episodes of PTSD, again, she never asked about it because she saw how uncomfortable you got when you tried to make up an excuse for your moments of disassociation. She soon learnt when you were about to or when you were having a moment, key sign was you’d rub your scar.

“How about we go downstairs and get some water” she offered as she sat up, her hand never leaving yours. “Okay” you nodded lightly.

Walking downstairs and sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen, Scarlett placed a glass of water in front of you and took mental notes of your body language. The tears still streaming down your face, you looked to her, “I’m scared to tell you” You spoke.

“I’m scared if I tell you…you’ll leave like everybody did”

Scarlett couldn’t help but frown slightly, “Darling, I could never leave you” she assured you.

“That’s what they all said”

“Whoever they are, they clearly didn’t deserve you. Honey, you can tell me anything” she reached for your hand and squeezed it tightly, “I’m not going anywhere” she looked into your teary eyes. You took a moment to look into her eyes, wanting so badly to tell somebody who was going to really listen to you and not just brush you off.

“Talk to me honey, what’s going on? I just want to help” she spoke.

“M-my s-stepfather” you stuttered, chills rushed through your body once again, your breathing got faster, more memories entered your mind, your free hand quickly squeezed the top of Scarlett’s hand that was still rested on your right. “It’s okay honey, you don’t have to say it” she noticed the panic in your eyes. “H-he hurt me” you let out a sob, “he” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “nobody believes me” you spoke.

“I believe you sweetheart” Scarlett’s free hand brush a lock of hair behind your ears.

“You do?” you looked up at her, she nodded, “honey, I’ve always known something was wrong, everything you’re feeling, the moments you have when you disassociate, distancing yourself on holidays like Christmas and your birthday, it’s clear it’s had such an effect on you. I just didn’t want to force you to say anything if you weren’t ready” Scarlett explained, her thumb stroking your cheek. “I’m here if you want to tell me, I see you, I hear you and I believe you, honey” she adds as more tears run down your cheeks.

“Everybody loves him, they think he’s so great, that he could never do such a thing but he’s not. He’s sick, he’s a creep, he’s made my life hell, Scar”

Scarlett reached for the box of tissues and waited to see if you were open to talking more, never pushing you or probing you with questions.

“It all started when I was 6 years old. My real dad, he left and never mentioned why…my mom, she met my…him, and well, things were fine for a while, from what I can remember… then suddenly something switched in him. He came home from work one night, he had a night job and would come home just before dinner so mom could go to her night shift at the hospital, she’s a nurse” you started. Scarlett didn’t know much about your family; she’s never met them, and you never cared to mention them.

“I spilt my drink on the coffee table, it was just a cup of water because it was almost bedtime and he flipped out…” you sobbed, “he threw me in my room and beat me with his belt until I bled before he made me clean up the mess. I cried for mom, but she was already at work. I had bruises for weeks after that, he told mom that I must’ve just fallen over at school or got too rough with my siblings, so she never questioned it…I don’t remember much but I remember enough. Soon things just got worse, he would just hit me for little things, if I didn’t eat all my food or if I didn’t tie my shoes and it was always when nobody was around to catch him…then it went on to him just telling me how worthless I am, how my mother doesn’t love me, and I don’t deserve the things I have. My sister and brother are both biologically his, so I always just assumed he hated me because I wasn’t his, you know?

Every year on my birthday he would get my sister and brother a present to open, saying it wasn’t fair on them on how young they were and how they didn’t understand why I would get a gift and they didn’t… he always made sure to get them the best of everything. My mother never thought much of it and let it slide. Then just after my 7th birthday, my sister and brother were on a school camp, mom was working so I was home alone with him…he was drunk and well…he touched me” you cried harder, Scarlett quickly wrapping her arms around you and pull you close to her, kissing the top of your head.

“Honey, I’m so sorry, you are so much more than the terrible things he’s said and done to you. I promise” she spoke as you cried into her arms. She held you until you were able to speak again.

“I tried to tell my mother, but she thought I was being silly and that maybe I just overheard something on the TV one time. I told my aunty, but she said she didn’t know what to do because I wasn’t her kid…nobody wanted to help me… then he found out I told, and he lashed out on me again and that’s how I got this scar… he threw his beer bottle at me...

I can’t escape him Scar…I see him all the time, I hear him, I smell him…I close my eyes and he’s the first thing I see…I’m in such a dark place because of him, I’m drowning, I’m tired, I’m scared…Scar, I don’t think I want to fight anymore”

Tears fell from Scarlett’s eyes as she held you close once more.

“Listen to me, you are safe with me. You are safe, he can’t hurt you anymore. We’ll go to the police and do whatever we have to do to get him put away. Look at me” she spoke, cupping your face gently to look at her. “I love you and you are so beautiful, you are so freaking strong, honey, I wish I could take all this pain away for you, don’t you doubt for a second that you’re not loved because I love you so, so much. We will fight this together, whatever you need, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, I will hold your hand through this, I will hold you tight at night, we will get through this. One step at a time, do you hear me?”

You nodded before crashing into her arms once more, the both of you crying in each other’s hold. “I love you” she would whisper over and over, making sure you felt her words.

She didn’t let you down, not once. She cancelled anything she had coming up. She spoke to Kate and explained she’d take some time away from The Outset to focus on you, she didn’t explain the depths of what was happening, just that right now, nothing mattered but you. She set up therapist appointments for you and would take you to them, waiting in the waiting room with her arms wide open when you were finished. At night, she never fell asleep until she knew you were deep asleep in her arms, stroking her fingers gently through your hair. She was mad that your family didn’t take action sooner, that your mother let everything slide without a second thought.

She wanted you to take this to the police even if it happens years ago, there was still evidence that he could be put away. So, Scarlett met with your therapist who also agreed that the police should be involved. You were put on antidepressions for a short time while dealt with the depths of your trauma. Scarlett didn’t want you to go through any more than you already had too, so she made sure to handle anything outside therapy for you, she never pushed you to make a report to the police, but you knew it was the right thing to do.

“Scar” you looked up at her while cuddled up to her on the sofa watching a movie. “Yeah honey?” she softly smiled; you sat up to face her properly. “I…I want to report it…I think I’m strong enough now” you told her, she nodded in agreement, “I’ll be with you the whole time, I promise” she leant over and kissed you softly, “you’re doing the right thing” she told you.

The process of getting a court date was getting frustrated, Scarlett didn’t take no for an answer and did her best to make sure the news would make it to the public, the last thing you needed was “Scarlett Johansson’s partner to testify against step-father in abuse case”. She went to lawyer after lawyer until somebody finally agreed to take the case.

“We might not be able to get a great sentence given the time frame but there is more than enough evidence here from her therapist that a judge won’t ignore” the lawyer informed the two of you, you squeezed Scarlett’s hand tightly knowing what to come was only going to get harder.

Your mother somehow got in contact with you a few weeks after your lawyer agreed to take the case, she tried to convince you that you were wrong and telling lies, that you wanted to ruin the good life she had but Scarlett didn’t let you sit there and take it from her.

“Hi, I would very much appreciate if you spoke to your lawyers and stopped calling this number. If you want to talk to Y/n, you’ll do so through the appropriate channels” she told your mother, hanging up before she would reply.

“You don’t need that, you have every right to take him to court, he ruined your life, you’re not doing anything wrong” she reminded you.

You felt so safe, heard, and loved by Scarlett. She went up and beyond for you, making sure you had the best of everything to make the case, holding your hand tightly through it all. For the first time, somebody believed you and helped you take action, something you would never have been able to do by yourself.

When the trail came, you were asked to the stand to explain the nature of your abuse. Your lawyer didn’t agree this would be the best option given that you haven’t seen your abuser for many years and your mental health and safety were at the most of importance throughout this case, but you wanted to take the stand and speak your truth, expose the evil in the room. Scarlett was worried at the idea and asked a million times if you were truly comfortable.

“Scar, I need to do this. This is my chance to take back my life, to show him that I did it, that I found a real love, a real happiness, that I’m okay and he can’t control me anymore” you told her. With that, how could she be worried? She kissed you deeply and told you how proud of you she was.

He was sentence to 9 years in prison. You wished for a longer sentence, but your lawyer said to take this win as the abuse happened when you were so young there wasn’t all that much evidence to go on. They had to use the reports from your therapists who explained the seriousness of your PTSD which was clearly caused from the abuse you had experienced.

You still had a long road of recovery ahead of you, but it wasn’t scary anymore, not when you had Scarlett by your side who loved you so deeply.

“I love you Scar, so much” you whispered while in bed, her arms wrapped around you. She kissed the back of your neck softly, “I love you honey, always” she replied. You turned over to face her, “I mean it, I love you, without you…there’s no way I would still be here. Scar, I was so close to giving up for good” you admitted, “I thought about it every day, even though you made my days so much better I still felt guilty for wishing I wasn’t here” you added.

“Love, you’re so much better than that, I’m just glad you finally told me because I lost you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I could’ve done more”

“No, baby, you did everything right” you kissed her lips softly, “now, I just want nothing more than a future with you, grow old with you, really live my life with you” you explained, “I don’t want to hide myself anymore or lock myself away. I don’t want to be scared of the world anymore, with you, I don’t feel scared, I feel free. With you I can do anything now, you released me, and I can’t thank you enough”

Scarlett teared up at your words, “you deserve all the love and happiness in the world, and I want to show you that every single day, god, I love you so much” she kissed your forehead gently, “you are my hero honey” she whispered. You soon fell asleep in her arms.

Your nightmares became less and less, your moments of disassociation started to phase out and you were finally able to start living the life you’ve always wanted, although, this time, you had the love of Scarlett with you at all times. For her, you were forever grateful.

#scarlett johansson #Scarlett Johansson x reader #fanfiction

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