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gyuswhore · 6 months

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Fifteen to Forever

"I can’t not be happy when I know I have you."

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: Fifteen was the age you had met Choi Seungcheol at a school hockey game. Forever was the age you would find yourself spending with him.

CONTAINS: fluff, angst, smut (MINORS DNI), growing up, tears (a lot), distance, this is so emotional you will be in your feels, kissing, p in v sex (unprotected), clit stimulation, handjobs, happy endings bc we love them, i think that's it

WORD COUNT: 6k

masterlist

[AN]: thank you so much @ressonancee for birthing the idea of hockey player cheol in the first place, reading over some of the bits and helping me w some of the plot!!! ty for letting me ramble in your dms lol. hockeyplayer!cheol WILL reappear in other fics bc I'm obsessed with the idea, for now, I hope you enjoy this angsty fluffy creation <33

It wasn’t until the last echo of the slammed car door had faded that you realized, yes, mom, I do actually want you to go in with me.

But alas, as the last tresses of exhaust from her car fade into nothingness, you accept that you’d have to do this alone. Gripping the straps of your brand new backpack helps you ground yourself as the increasingly erratic breathing takes over you. It sinks in now that you’re alone.

There’s a honk, and you realize you’re still frozen in the drop-off zone, the mom in the Subaru not appreciating the 7 AM delay to drop off her own high schooler. You wonder if her kid would let her drop them off inside.

Scurrying into the entrance of the open gates, you find the courtyard full. Huddles of teens laughing and yelling despite the early morning hour, not a spare square foot on the grass. You try to find someone who looks like an adult but fail, hoping you’ll be luckier once you’re inside the building.

You do find yourself lucky as you find a line of teachers at the entrance, ready to greet the new batch of freshmen on their first day of high school. There are a few other kids who look as tense as you, but you feel better with the way the administrator pats your shoulder as she hands you your schedule, assigning you to a lanky sophomore to show you around the building that’d become your second home for the next four years.

Jeonghan tells you his name as he leads you into your homeroom, where you deposit your bag before going back out. He’s peculiar, you decide. He tells you to never walk without looking at the floor on Monday mornings to save your shoes from the occasional start-of-the-week breakfast hurl. He tells you in the cafeteria that the lasagna was horrible, but not the sloppy joes; the sloppy joes were good. He tells you in the gym that the coach would let you off if you rubbed a little eyeliner under your eyes, “he’s an empath.”

By the time he’s listing off clubs and teams, you feel a little less nervous, pushing you back into your fuller homeroom with a sign-up sheet and a goodbye. You don’t get to say thank you.

Kwon Soonyoung slips into the empty seat next to you, introducing himself a little louder than you’d anticipated, but you suppose you needed the enthusiasm. He innocently slips you his home number and hopes out loud that you’d be the best of friends.

You get in the car that afternoon, responding with a wider-than-expected smile at your mother inquiring about your day.

“It was great! I think I’ll like it here.”

You found it strange that the rink was so packed for a high school hockey game, but that was before you saw the ten-foot banner and face paint. Soonyoung sits on your right as Jiwoo places herself on your left, both donned in blue and yellow, sandwiching your uncoordinated outfit. For whatever reason, you’d thought movies exaggerated the hype around high school sports, yet the support for the boys entering the rink roars into your ears to prove you wrong.

They win, and with the way the rest of the team pats him on the back after sending in the last puck, you assume it’s all thanks to the boy with the Choi on the back of his jersey.

He removes his helmet, hair flopping into his eyes as you realize you know him. He was always in the cafeteria with Jeonghan, the boy who gave you a tour on your first day, along with many other boys from his year. It was hard not to notice them with the ruckus they were always causing, yet you found them easy to drown out with the rest of the noise.

“What’s his first name? The guy with the 08 on his back?” you ask Soonyoung.

“Oh, that’s Seungcheol. Dude’s a fucking progidy or something.”

“Prodigy,” Jiwoo corrects.

“Yeah, that. Jihoon said the only reason they got to finals last year was ‘cause of this guy.”

You watch as he drinks from his bottle from the benches, smiling at his coach and teammates as they debriefed. At least you were guessing that was happening; the only thing you were thinking about was how you could hear his laugh from where you sat. And how it was making you smile, too.

You stare at your worn shoes that glow in multicolors as the beats in the gym warp and stagger through the speaker. You’re on your third punch, finding yourself awkward without something to occupy at least one hand.

You had danced a little with Jiwoo, watched with bright eyes as Soonyoung dance off-ed yet another senior to his victory, giggled as you let another freshman, Jun, take Jiwoo away for the next dance. You now lace the edges of the party, taking a breather as you down the remnants of your punch, already trailing the memorized path to the snack table. Maybe you’ll try some of the lemonade this time.

There’s already somebody occupying the lemonade cooler when you get there, back to you as you patiently wait for him to finish up. He moves away, leaning against the table. He takes a sip from his cup, and you move forward to fill your own.

It’s Seungcheol. You recall his name as you recognize his face. He somehow looks as haphazard as you last saw him from yesterday’s hockey game.

If he had come in with a tie, it’s long gone as he has his collar popped and shirt unbuttoned the first few steps. It doesn’t end there as you note the hair that dresses his eyes, soaked in what you cannot imagine is water with the way you saw someone with a similar build typhoon across the floor with nearly as much vigor as Soonyoung has had tonight.

He’s downing the cup in haste, and you take a sip of the slightly tart drink as you debate if you should say something.

“You did really well yesterday. Congrats,” you decide to say.

He emerges from his cup to acknowledge you sipping on your own lemonade, “Oh, thanks. Were you there?”

“Oh, yeah, I was. First hockey game, went with my friends,” you let out a little chuckle, not understanding why you suddenly felt so awkward.

“Cool,” he answers plainly, mouth glistening and posture stagnant. “You’re friends with Soonyoung, right? Seen him hang around Jihoon a lot.”

“Yeah, he’s — he’s friends with everybody,” you laugh a little, and you hear him laugh with you.

“How do you handle him? He’s giving a run for everybody’s money out there,” he gestures to the dance floor with a smile.

“He mellows out after a while; he’s just excited,” you say, understanding his bewilderment.

“How’re you finding high school so far?” he asks when he runs out of things to say, yet forgets that he can easily excuse himself. But he doesn’t.

“Pretty alright. I’m having fun so far.” You don’t need to ask him the same, knowing well that the sophomore was having the time of his life.

“Good to hear, hope it stays that way for you.”

It’s another painful five seconds before you see Jiwoo waving at you from afar, pointing at something Soonyoung is doing.

“Uh, I’ll see you around, my friend’s waving me over–”

“Oh, sure, uh, I’ll see you around.”

You give him one more tight-lipped smile as you wave from waist length before retreating.

“Wait!”

You turn around at his voice.

“I never got your name.”

Seungcheol took you on your first not-date in the spring.

Not-date because neither of you had labeled it as such, but you were pushed to reconsider when both Jiwoo and Soonyoung insisted.

He had brought his car that you slipped into after school to drive to the movies, where he bought you popcorn and paid for both of your tickets. He held your hand as you walked out of the theatre, wide-eyed and all smiles as you discussed the film you had just sat through for two hours.

His palm fit in yours like it belonged there, and maybe it was your fifteen-year-old brain talking. Still, you never expected to be this comfortable with him — especially after the possible insinuation your friends had instilled.

He drove you home that night as you searched for a million excuses to stay a little longer in his car as he parked in front of your door. But alas, you open the car door at the end of the night and are surprised to find him doing the same as he walks around to where you get out.

“I had a lot of fun today,” you say in your rehearsed line.

“Me too,” he smiles. “The weather’s getting nicer, we should see the cherry blossoms next weekend. If you wanted to. We can take the car again.”

He didn’t kiss you, at least not on the lips as he hugged you at your front door and pressed his lips to your cheek.

You were quick to squeak out your goodbyes after that happened, slamming your door shut as you vaguely heard him drive off.

With a hand to your racing heart, you count to ten. Perhaps you’d reconsider that not-date after all. Besides, you had cherry blossoms to look forward to.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you, really kissed you, when he brought the team to the cup they missed out on last year, throwing himself at you as soon as you appeared before him. He was sweaty, half-dressed in his gear with his skates still on as he embraced you tighter than anyone ever had before.

He put his lips on yours the second he saw your face as you pulled away, unable to help himself despite the groans and retches of his teammates, despite the fact that an entire bleacher’s worth of people saw you both.

Not that either of you cared; you were just happy he didn’t have his mouth guard on (and that he kissed you before you couldn’t help it yourself).

It was in your junior year and Seungcheol’s senior year that you began to hear the absurdities about the strength of your relationship, that you wouldn’t make it, that high school sweethearts never do.

With shaking hands, you grip your boyfriend’s arm as he has a conflicted look in his eye.

“No,” you say. You wonder where all of this strength was coming from when you all wanted was to cry. “You’re gonna go. You will go. I won’t let you throw all of this away because of something that’s never gonna waver.”

He’s silent as he refuses to meet your gaze. The voices were getting to him, his older college friends laughing when he suggested that his relationship would last both college and the distance it would bring. He realizes he’s not so sure anymore.

He sits cross-legged in front of you on your bedroom floor, mentally prepared to walk out for the last time.

“You’re supposed to be happiest about this; I don’t understand why you insist I leave. And so far away?” he looks slightly bewildered.

“Because you’ll regret it if you don’t. This isn’t about me, Cheol, it’s about everything you’ve worked for all these years—”

“Us, what about us? I’ve worked on us, too.”

“Why have you gone years without listening to a word what other people say to only listening to them now?”

“Was it just me, then? Because it feels like I’m the only one worried about our future together—”

“Choi Seungcheol, stop right there.” Your voice is brittle, and you don’t know how long you can keep the tears at bay.

“I…I don’t know what to think,” his shoulders slump even lower.

His hockey scholarship would take him so, so far away. He thought you were strong enough for this, but with every anecdote, every comment, every dejected “have it your way” to his resilience, he wonders if the both of you would be forced to fight a losing battle if he left.

There were sports universities here at home, but there was no you with his scholarship.

“I’ll tell you what to think. Will you listen to me?”

Slowly, but surely, he nods.

“You can get the scholarship you’ve always wanted, and we can stay as we are, although a little farther away.”

He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

“I believe in us. And if you don’t right now, I’m ready to believe for the both of us. We’ll get through this.”

In the end, Seungcheol believed you over everything the world told him, praying he wouldn’t let you or himself down as he laid with you on the last night he’d call his bedroom home.

Graduation was a happy endeavor, momentarily forgetting what lay ahead as he enjoyed his last hours with all his friends in one place. The heavy feeling returned as the night progressed, agreeing to spend the night with him, tucked under his covers as you listened to his heartbeat. You wonder how long it will be until you're able to do this again.

As you lay in his stripped bedroom, there’s little either of you say, an unspoken agreement to not sleep, not tonight. He has an early morning, but he doesn’t really seem to care as he continues to fiddle with your hair, kissing you at intervals like he's trying to bring back the feeling when it begins to fade.

There’s little you can talk about when you’re trying to memorize each other’s scent. You remind yourself to give him your sweater when morning comes, already noting the hoodie you need to remember to pick up, the lone one he left you in his closet.

But as the first rays of sun peeked through the blinds, sending stripes of sun into the bedroom, you tried not to feel the hard clench of your heart as the bare room came into sight. Despite the snoozing of alarms, the multiple knocks on his door, and the dawn of a new day, you let yourselves have an extra five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes.

Just you and him before it would be you, and it would be him.

Seungcheol called you more than you called him. It was everywhere, even if it was just to say a quick “I love you” before a game, to hear your voice before he went to class, to listen to you complain about an assignment before he had to do his own.

As resilient as you showed yourself to be, you’d be lying if you said there was a part of you that was afraid of how much faith Seunghceol held for the both of you, but at ease you were with the constant bugging he’d do and the bugging he seemed to appreciate back.

By Christmastime, he’d texted you his itinerary for the holidays, explaining how he couldn’t spare a second to things like thinking. Most of his list involved spending all day rotting indoors with you.

As much as Seungcheol had hoped you’d pick a college nearer to him, he was less scared when you finally announced your college decisions close to graduation. The past year had proved a lot, mostly that you both were stronger than the distance. Which is why he was the first to congratulate you when you got into the college of your choice, despite the fact that you’d be even farther away, leaving home in what felt like the opposite direction to him.

You were scared too, mostly of how Seungcheol would react, but seeing the smile break out on his face when you told him gave you all the reassurance you needed. That summer brought you the best memories of your teenage years, with Seungcheol, preparing for you both to leave. Except this time, the air was less tense, fewer tears shed, fewer solemn goodbyes at airport gates, and less desperation in both of your hearts. A surety that you’d come back to each other.

Seungcheol was offered a contract with his dream hockey team when you were on the cusp of your final year. He told you nearly two weeks after he received the first email, not believing it until he was pestered to do so by the representative.

You cried on the phone that night, the ache in your chest unbelievably present as you wished you could hug him at that moment. He denied his own tears, but you knew his glassier-than-normal eyes weren’t just through the camera lens. You told him you were proud, you told him this was only the beginning, that you needed to sit in the bleachers with his jersey on for every game he’ll ever play, that he was about to have an entire career to be proud of soon.

He let a couple tears slip.

And when he showed up to your graduation, sitting next to your family, you gave him the biggest hug you could muster from your bones. That year may have been the last you’d have to endure apart, but it was somehow the hardest.

It was in that moment, when you pulled away to look at his smiling face, that the years registered in your mind.

You’re fifteen again, seeing Seungcheol for the first time, donning the features he hadn’t grown into yet, the features you hadn’t grown into yet. You have to tiptoe to meet his lips now, see a man where there was once a boy, the deep set of maturity behind his pretty eyes.

When he drops the last of your boxes into his — your shared apartment, you’re brought to the stark realization that you're going to stay here.

It’s when you’re unpacking your toothbrush, placing it in the cup right next to his that you realize you could do whatever you wanted with each other without having to work around flight schedules. It’s when he’s hobbling around wooden planks and screws in the bedroom, putting together the brand new queen-sized bed to replace his too-small twin, that you realize that you weren’t here for the week, or for the month or for any set amount of time; you were here forever.

At least that’s what you hope as you watch him collapse the last of the cardboard boxes to recycle, shoving in the corner of the entryway, leaving that job for tomorrow.

By the time you emerge in the living room after a shower, Seungcheol has already begun to unpack the delivery food on the coffee table. It’s an array of delicious smells, slightly soggy food, and mounds of styrofoam and plastic wrap; a feast for your tired, tired bodies.

The dumplings are amazing, and the warm feeling in your chest expands as you realize you can now order them whenever you like.

Seungcheol picks out the chopped chilies from his food, migrating them onto your own plate as he talks about his next practice session without interruption.

A thought occurs to you in that moment as you watch him down his cola. “Hasn’t coach put you on a diet plan?”

“Yeah,” he says normally. You merely stare at him, not understanding how any of this junk could be any good for his form, especially when you know he’s good about abstaining when it comes to training.

He smiles at the questioning look on your face, setting down his utensils, “It’s our first meal, in our first home. I think we deserve to share this with each other.”

A smile breaks out on your face at the thought of this being your first meal, the first of many meals together in this home. Of all the meals you’ll share in every home after this, every day.

And while Seungcheol finds himself sacrificing his diet to enjoy all of this greasy grub with you, you will also find yourself occasionally sharing his awfully bland chicken breasts and salads. All to share with each other.

Walking into the bustling restaurant in your uncomfortable shoes and your arm around Seungcheol’s, you’re quick to find the group you’re looking for.

The noise is a dead giveaway, and you quickly realize they haven’t changed.

You hear Soonyoung before you see him, his distinct laugh echoing the loudest across the sea of mingling heads. A loud banner hangs at the end of the room with your high school grad year.

You detach from Seungcheol as he finds his junior friends, and you find yours, taking both Soonyoung and Jiwoo into a bone-crushing hug. It’s been a while since you last saw them. The crowd of familiar faces greets you, making small talk with everyone as they introduce you to their partners and even their children. You’ve grown; all of you have.

“Seungcheol’s here too. You guys were together in high school, right?” somebody asks you at some point during the night. “He graduated before us, though; wonder who he’s here with.”

You don’t blame them for assuming, considering both of you have been in your own circles all night. That, added to the obvious assumptions of high school sweethearts, you only laugh a little as you reply with a wider-than-usual smile.

“Oh, he’s here with me,”

You go home with a permanent smile stuck to your face, talking more animatedly than usual in the car ride home. Seuncheol mirrors your smile as he listens.

Your good mood prevails for the rest of the night, even as you slip under the covers, ready to end the night on a happier-than-usual note. Seungcheol is reading his book when you crawl under his arm, head on his chest, and your arm slung across his torso. You feel his lips on the top of your head, the faint sound of his book being placed on the bedside table.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asks with one of his own.

You shake your head as you reply, “Nothing. I’m just happy I saw Soonyoung and Jiwoo.”

“I’m glad you saw them too. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You hum in response, suddenly remembering a conversation you had. “You know, Jess asked me who you were there with.”

“Figures,” he shrugs before laughing a little.“How much did she hesitate before asking you?”

“Looked like she was holding it in for a little bit. Don’t blame her, though. She probably thought we ended it in epic teenage fashion.”

He snorts at that, “Probably would’ve if you didn’t talk some sense into me.”

“Probably would’ve if you didn’t trust me like you did,” you crane your neck to look at him.

“Glad I wasn’t that far gone,” he whispers, a faraway look in his eyes despite looking directly at you. “Haven’t doubted us ever since.”

There’s that warm feeling that spreads throughout your body, an overwhelming feeling of contentment coming over you. There was nothing, nothing, that could convince you to be anywhere else, especially anywhere that wasn’t in his arms.

“Sometimes…well, a lot of the times, I think about us,” you start. “I thought us hitting six months was enough to tell me I’d be with you forever.”

He smiles at the thought of high school you, starry-eyed, awkward little kids. He remembers the way you blushed when he kissed you for the first time in front of the whole school, the heat that had risen to his own face at the time.

“And then we hit a year, and then two years,” you remember every surprise for every anniversary, from when you’d collect your allowance for weeks to get him something he’d like.

“And then college happened. I tried being so positive, but I had never been more scared for us. I hope we never have to go through something that hard ever again.” You almost sound like a child not wanting to go to the doctor’s office, but with the way you feel yourself tighten your grip around him, you don’t think it’s any different.

You can feel your eyes begin to well, and your voice begins to shake. It was nearly comical how quickly the smiles were turning into sentimental tears.

Seungcheol places a kiss on your lips, and you know it was meant to be reassuring, but it only wrenches open the floodgates. The tears begin to make their way down your face, sniffles muffled as you go back to burying your face in his chest, his shirt soaking the wetness. You can feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs at your state. He’s also squeezing up your sides and placing kisses in any place he can reach.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmur into his shirt.

“It’s okay. Today was very reflective,” he reassures, letting you stay hidden.

“I just—” you sniff. “I just wanna stay happy like this all the time.”

It’s only then that he guides your stained face away from his shirt to bring you to look at him, wiping the remnants of your tears as you try to keep the fresh ones at bay. “We’ll be happy, even when we’re sad. I can’t not be happy when I know I have you. I love you too much for that.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his lips, arms around his neck as you pull yourself to him, chest to chest. You kiss him properly, pecking him a few times to have your fill.

And then he’s pulling away, ever so slightly to bring a bare millimeter of gap between your lips. His hands burn where they rest, one on your waist, one on your thigh. He’s breathing hard. Both of you are.

“I’m gonna say something so not fit for right now,” he breathes.

You can’t help but freeze in his hold as you register his words, hesitating before you ask. “What?”

“Marry me.”

It comes out as the same whisper, directly into your lips as he utters the words. Like he was keeping a secret from the walls and the furniture, like they were only meant for you; because they were only meant for you. Your heart stops, and you vaguely wonder if you’re breathing at all.

“I—” he takes a long, shaky breath from his nose. “I was supposed to do this a little differently, but…”

You watch him reach over into his bedside drawer, the one you never touch, and bring out the smallest velvet box. Opening it reveals the prettiest, most delicate diamond you’ve ever seen, the jewel glinting and sparkling even in the dim bedroom lights.

That’s when you let out a tiny gasp, feeling the tears return, dripping down your face one after the other. “Choi Seuncheol, you bitch.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and it has him sitting up straighter, leaving the box to the side as he lurches for you when you pull away.

“Wait, fuck, sorry, I thought,” he exhales in frustration, hands trying to pull yours away from your face as you cry into your hands. He sounds desperate. “I got carried away, I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“No, it’s not that,” you finally manage through hiccups.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, I’m just fucking emotional.”

You hear him laugh again, no doubt out of pure relief, as he nearly doubles over at the situation.

You’re a little calmer as you continue to sniffle, watching him with a half-disgruntled, half-amused expression, “Put it on, stupid, or do I need to cry again for you to do that.”

You don’t need to tell him twice as he slips the ring on your finger, the perfect fit, the perfect jewel, the perfect ring.

Bringing him closer, you kiss him again, lips pressed hard on his as you try to communicate every last emotion into it. You’re out of words, and you hope he knows what you're feeling. You know he knows; he always knows.

He’s reciprocating with the same vigor, arms coming up to wrap around you so tight it pushes you flush against his body. He nips at your lip, running his tongue over it for good measure before letting it enter your mouth. You let him take the lead, let him guide you through every motion, every step forward.

You’re putty when he pulls off your clothes for you, feeling your heart scream in protest whenever he pulls away to get rid of the obstructions. Your emotions were in a delicate place, and you suddenly couldn’t handle not being able to feel him against you consistently.

He does well to make it quick, moving back on top of you to occupy your mouth once more. He tries to migrate lower, latching onto your neck to continue his ministrations there, but you don’t let him as you pull his face back to yours again.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth before latching onto his lips.

He lets out a low grunt, pulling away for breath as he whispers it back, “I love you more.”

If you won’t let his mouth move, you let his hands do whatever they wish, feeling them move lower against your sides to reach your hips. His thumbs draw circles on them as he slowly moves his hands to where you can feel the arousal grow.

His fingers hit your bare heat as he plunges them into your folds, encasing your clit between his fingers. He drags them up slowly before moving back down, all the way to your now sopping hole to brush against the opening.

You sigh against his lips as he pushes his finger in slowly, lips releasing yours as you throw your head back to feel his digit around your walls. He pushes a second one in without hesitation, and you know he’s just as desperate as you right now.

He’s only two fingers deep, and yet you feel yourself beginning to come undone. He always knew what to do when he wanted to stretch you out faster, always knew what to do when he wanted to draw the pleasure out, keep you writhing for hours.

Right now was different; it felt like he was holding himself back to the point where it was almost painful. If he wasn’t worried about the stretch, he would’ve buried himself inside you already, and yet, when he feels you clench undeniably hard around his fingers as you orgasm, he feels like he might’ve cum himself.

His low moans echo off the walls with your louder, more desperate ones, riding out your high as you feel him bring his other hand up to rub your clit in fast circles, making the pleasure last. Coming down from your high, you feel him pause for a moment as he peppers kisses on your face, down your jaw and neck, finally coming to press his lips against yours.

“You okay?”

You nod in response, already grasping at his boxers to yank them down. Despite having just orgasmed, the satisfaction is yet to come, needing to feel him inside you before you combusted entirely.

He helps as he discards himself of the final obstruction, letting you stroke his painfully hard member in your hands. The face he makes is heavenly as you watch him feel your hands wrapped around him. The impatience takes over as he finally removes your hands, instead pinning them beside your head as he guides himself to your entrance.

Seungcheol goes back to planting himself onto you entirely, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, needing to feel him against you so flush and tight. He lets you wrap your hands around his neck as he finally begins to push himself into you, letting his tip graze the beginning of your entrance.

He breathes into your neck in deep, deep exhales, trying so hard not to cum before he’s even entered you entirely. He takes his time pushing into you, focusing on your fingers as they play with his hair, your palms running down his shoulder blades in a pathway. He closes his eyes as he sheaths himself in you completely, continuing his steady breaths to not come undone before you.

He begins to move when he feels like he’s gotten a hold of his bearings, feeling you hold onto him as he starts thrusting into your cunt. The sounds you make are bliss; the feeling of every inch of your skin on his is making him lose his already lost mind.

Your arms drop when they can’t hold onto him any longer, your hands remaining on him regardless, in some way or the other. Seungcheol takes hold of your hand, emerging from the crook of your neck to bring it to his mouth. He kisses it, your palms, the back of your hand, your fingers, directly over the rock he slipped on you himself.

The tenderness of his actions makes your brain rattle against your skull, the building feeling in your abdomen coming so close to collapsing into release. You find yourself pushing yourself up on your elbows, face finding the crook of his shoulder as you push yourself back into him when pulled back in the slightest.

You’re so close now, so, so close. “Cheol,”

“I know, darling. Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

You release to the sound of his voice, the words that tumble from his desperate mouth, the feeling of his own cum shooting inside your spent walls. He continues to thrust into you as you both let out the loudest moans of the night, letting yourself get wrapped up in the feeling of each other before you lose your peak.

You register nothing as you feel him drop his weight on top of you, letting the moment pass.

Despite having had nights rougher, more lengthy than this, you somehow feel more spent than you have at the end of any of those escapades. The answer comes to you in the few minutes it takes for you both to catch your breath, Cheol being just as fatigued as you despite his athlete stamina.

You feel him continue to press his lips onto your skin, letting you do the same to him in between kisses. Neither of you speak for another few minutes, letting the heaviness of your hearts come forth in the showers of love you seem to want to give each other.

He’s grasping your left hand, toying with the ring fitted there. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

A picture of the both of you hangs on the wall in your bedroom, dim yet decipherable in the low lights. There’s a moment where you have a flash of that same photo on multiple different walls. Different shades of neutral, in different rooms in different houses. It’s the same picture.

You think of what forever might hold for the both of you, separately and together. You let the prospect of every step, every change, and every milestone wash over you in waves that keep coming, crashing back to feed into another.

Change, you rehearse. There had been lots of it, and yet you had merely scratched the surface of what life was about to throw at you. You knew that, Seungcheol knew that. But you found yourself, in that moment, convinced in entirety that change is good, whether it feels good or bad.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder; you didn't realize the meaning of the phrase until you had to live apart from the love of your life. Painful, difficult, sometimes agonizing, yet also necessary, you conclude. You wonder if your love would ever have grown this deep if you hadn’t felt life without each other.

You think of how far you’ve come, how you’ve grown with each other. There was an encompassing of gratefulness that came with every step you had taken, and with every step you would take henceforth, you knew that for certain.

Perhaps you would find yourself voicing these emotional thoughts to him, but not now. The unspoken was louder than anything you could say.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.”

taglist (strikthru could not be tagged): @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seungcheol fluff #seuncheol smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungchel angst #scoups #svt #svt smut #em.writes

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oneforthemunny · 4 months

Text

round and round |boxer!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a snide, joking comment has you and eddie trying something new in the ring to spice things up. a ring girl, announcing each round you and eddie do. horrible fucking descript lol, but based off of this ask from the lovely @belokhvostikova

word count: 6k+

contains: boxer!eddie. mean-ish!eddie?? rough sex, but everything is consensual. idk if it counts as roleplay but i'll tag it just in case. mean, nasty sex lol. fem fingering, grinding, pinvsex, creampie. kinda aftercare? they're mean but it works ok? just filthy fun idk. smut. 18+ minors dni.

“Look at you.” Eddie grinned, arms hanging over the side of the ropes. “Do a spin for me, baby. Let me see the whole thing.”

You rolled your eyes, pivoting in the tiniest twirl to show off your little outfit; a skimpy skirt that flounced with every step, a too tight top with a plunging neckline. It was a stark contrast to what you normally wore to Eddie’s practices, that is when you actually showed up to his practices. Typically opting for a track suit, maybe jeans if you were feeling especially generous, but this was a different practice today.

What had started as a joke, a snide sneer of a comment, maybe stemming from jealousy at the way the ring girl looked at Eddie when she strutted away, batting her eyes and giving him a dazzling smile. You weren’t entirely upset at the jab his opponent gave him after that, he’d deserved it.

“Maybe I should dress like her, hm?” You had sneered that night, grip tightening around his bicep when you passed the same girl after the match.

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted, shaking his head. “For who?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged, lips pursing, eyes narrowing. “I guess for you. Maybe you’ll actually pay attention to me if I did.”

Eddie scoffed at you, rolling his eyes so hard the throbbing in his left temple started up again. “Sure.” He pushed the door open to the back of the arena, letting you walk before him. “I don’t pay attention to them, baby. I’m in the middle of a fight.”

You hummed sarcastically. “I’m sure you don’t.”

“Maybe if you wore it, I would.” Eddie’s lips curled in a smug smirk that made you want to smack it right off his face. “Definitely would pay attention then.”

You didn’t realize how serious he was about it until later, in your own home. Bloodied knuckles brushing over your chin, your cheek, swallowing you with kisses, fingers slipping under your nightgown. “Think you really should dress up.” Eddie muttered, steaming kisses trailing down your jaw, nipping at your chin. “Let me take you for a coupla rounds. See if you can take me.”

Now, you wondered if it was still what he wanted, walking to the small practice ring, blistering under Eddie’s hungry gaze. “You like it?” You smoothed your hand over your tiny skirt. “Short enough?”

“I don’t know, c’mere, let me get a closer look.” Eddie grinned, pulling the ropes up so you could duck under them.

You hiked your leg up, turning away from him when you stepped under so he got a full view of your tiny thong underneath. Eddie smirked, swatting at your ass, smug at how you squealed.

“You look…” Eddie leaned back against the ropes, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes rolled over your frame, taking in every inch of your body, leaving you burning with excited heat under his gaze. “Amazing, baby.”

“Yeah?” You hummed, pulling your neckline lower, biting back a grin at Eddie’s laugh. “Look like the real thing?”

“Better.” Eddie nodded. “You ready to go all six rounds?”

“Six?” You gawked. “You didn’t say six.”

“You said you wanted me to take it easy on you.” Eddie shrugged.

“Taking it easy is six?” You lifted a brow. “Can you even last six rounds?”

Eddie’s tongue rolled over his teeth, biting back a smirk. He wouldn’t snap back, wouldn’t huff and bitch at you when you tried to get him riled up. Oh no, he’d do what he did best, and take it out in the ring.

“I think you and I both know I can.” Eddie countered cooly, pushing off the ropes.

You hated the way your knees shook under his gaze, throbbing between your thighs. Eddie picked up the sign behind him. He had found it tucked in a storage closet, the letters fading from age, the perfect prop.

“Make sure you hold it up high, alright.” Eddie grinned, patting your hip when he passed you.

You looked over your shoulder, eyes batting sweetly towards him, nestled in the corner or the ring. “You ready?”

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded. “Ready when you are, baby. Show me your walk.”

You swallowed the spit pooling in your mouth, shoulders rolling back before you lifted the sign, strutting to the edge and back with a dazzling smile, just like you’d seen the girls do a thousand times before.

Eddie’s wolf whistle cut through the empty gym, clapping slowly at your finished hip pop, dramatic, a little silly. “How was that?” You asked, passing him the sign.

“Best I’ve ever seen.” Eddie smirked, tossing the sign out of the way. “Now,” He lined himself up, toe to toe. “You gotta ring the bell.”

“The bell?” You snorted, looking around. “What bell?”

“Gotta ring the bell.” Eddie looked at you, down the slope of his nose. A darkness in those brown eyes you adored that had your heart skipping with fear, maybe excitement.

“What? Like, ding, ding?” You scoffed, your eye roll cut short when Eddie grabbed you, two hands on your waist, spinning you and pulling you flush into his chest.

You gasped, shocked, stumbling into his hold. “Wait!” Eddie ignored your cry, arm wrapping over yours in a tight grip, pinning you there. His free hand pressed to your lower stomach, right over the top of the skirt.

You squirmed, feet digging into the ground, body wriggling in Eddie’s grasp. “Told you to stay on your toes.” Eddie hummed.

“I wasn’t ready.” You snapped, arms wiggling by your sides where Eddie had them trapped. “You’re such a cheater.”

“Oh? Am I?” Eddie growled, breath hot on your neck. You snarled, wrenching away. “I never told you this was gonna be a fair fight.” His free hand slid down the front of your tiny skirt, stopping just on your mound, pressing gently so you whimpered. “But something tells me you’re not gonna mind.”

Your scoff was cut off by his hand slipping between your legs, pointer and middle finger pressed to the soft cotton of your panties. You melted into his broad chest, chin tucked to look down the valley of your squished tits.

The whine you gave when Eddie circled over your clothed clit was music to his ears, electrifying him with a bout of energy. Teeth grazing over the shell of your ear, nibbling just barely, enough to have you squealing, squirming against him though he could feel you soaking his fingers through your panties.

“C’mon, you’re just gonna give in that easy?” Eddie mocked. “I mean, I knew it’d be easy. Knew you’d be tapping out before long, but I thought you might try a little harder than this.” Fighting words. He knew it, lips pulled tight in a grin.

Your body burned, hot with fury, with the pleasure he was giving you. Every atom in your body told you to stay, to let him pleasure you, give into ecstasy, but your pride wouldn’t let you. Heels digging into the floor, you pushed against Eddie, away from his hand that fought to keep you down.

“Ooh, you’re gettin’ mad, hm? That made you mad?” Eddie snickered, grip tightening around you. “Already ready to tap out?”

“Shut up.” You gritted, swallowing back a whine, body stuttering when his fingers swirled around your clit again.

“I can already taste victory.” Eddie smirked smugly, fingers pressing into your slick, soaking the cotton of your tiny panties.”How about you?” His breath hot on the shell of your ear. “You want a taste?”

Eddie lifted his fingers, sticky and soaked in your arousal, an evident string connecting in the middle of the two fingers. You blistered in heat, turning away from his fingers.

“C’mon, open up for me. Have a little taste.” Eddie cooed, nearly taunting, free hand sneaking up your torso to grab your jaw, hold you in place.

You whimpered behind a closed mouth, jaw hinged shut, his fingers digging into your cheeks holding you steady. “Open up f’me. Taste yourself. Tell me how good you taste, baby.”

It was embarrassing, Eddie knew that. Of course he knew that. It was exactly why he teased you like this, because he knew how wet it got you. How badly you tried to fight it even when your body betrayed you, even when the evidence was right in front of you.

A jerking twist of your body nearly had you getting away. Nearly.

Eddie’s arms wrapped tighter around your torso, hugging you back into his chest. “Oh, c’mon. You know you gotta be faster than that, baby.” He shook his head at you.

“Are you seriously going to do this the whole time?” You huffed, nails digging back into his hips.

Eddie didn’t hiss, didn’t snap at you, bend you over his knee with your hands pinned behind your back to spank you. Instead, he moaned. A breathy groan behind closed lips that shook all the way down his body, vibrated onto your skin, left you aching to your core.

That fucker.

“Ugh, seriously, Ed. Just let me go.” You scoffed, wiggling against him, ass purposefully brushing against his crotch. “This isn’t even fun.”

“Fun for me.” Eddie growled, hips rolling into the fat of your ass. “You’re not having fun?”

“No.” You snapped. “No, I’m not.”

Eddie tutted, tongue clicking sympathetically. “Aw, that’s no good, now is it? Can’t have that.” He cooed in that same mocking tone that had you wishing your arms were free so you could smack him.

His hand moved back down the front of your skirt, sliding under the hem, back to your panties, circling over the same damp spot. Your knees buckled, brain bursting with numbing pleasure. “I’ll make sure it’s fun for you again.”

Two fingers circling over your clothed clit expertly is how he won that round. You stuttered, squirming, grinding down into his touch until your body shook with pleasure. Your slick still covering Eddie’s fingers, he let you go, stumbling towards the ropes on shaky legs.

Your chest heaving, you looked back at him with a glassy eyed glare. Eddie held your gaze, firm and commanding, taking his two slick soaked fingers in his mouth with a sigh. You ached at the sight.

“Missed out.” Eddie hummed, spit clicking around his fingers when he pulled them from his mouth. “Taste damn good, baby.”

Your lips twisted, gripping the ropes to steady yourself. Eddie shrugged, heavy steps back to his own corner, leaning over to get the next sign. “Go ahead.” He tossed it to you with a flick of his wrist, letting it scutter to the ground of the ring, sliding to your feet. “Next round.”

“Seriously?” You huffed, lifting a brow.

“I won that round.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“No, I have to- You want me to seriously do the sign every time?” You looked down at the large sign, mocking letters of Round Two. You were regretting agreeing to six.

“Are you tapping out already?” Eddie lifted a brow, inked arms crossed over his defined chest. “That’s all it took?”

“No.” You hissed, fiercely, reaching to snatch the sign, hoping Eddie didn’t see the way your thighs trembled when you did. “Just think it’s stupid you want me to do this.”

“This was your idea, baby.” Eddie scoffed, giving you a pointed glare.

“Yeah, and you were really excited about it, Munson. Don’t act like you weren’t.” You countered with the same bite in your tone.

“Of course I was, but it wasn’t my idea.” Eddie shrugged, tongue rolling over his cheek in that same cocky manner that had you steaming with fury. “If it was my idea, I’d have you topless.”

“Oh?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That right?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smirked, eyes sliding hungrily down your frame. “Still could be. Go ahead and take that bra off f’me, baby.”

“No.” You sneered, nose scrunching at the request. “You’re being gross.”

“Yeah? ‘S alright. I’ll get it off.” Eddie grinned, dark and dimpled. You swallowed down a shudder. “On your mark, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, putting the sign in your hands and lifting it half heartedly. “Oh, no, no, no. Nuh-uh.” Eddie’s tone was sharp, head shaking from the other side of the ring. “You’re gonna do this right, or we’re not gonna do it at all.”

The threat in his tone had your spine tingling, straightening at his words. “Now, lift that sign up and do your little walk, or we’ll stop right here.” His arms crossed at you. “That what you want?”

You huffed, nails digging into the sign before lifting it up high, putting on a fake, overly exaggerated smile and striding towards the middle of the ring.

Eddie smirked. “Atta girl. Good choice.” He eyed your skirt as you turned back to your corner, petulantly throwing the sign down.

“Alright, you know what you’re ‘sposed to do now, baby. C’mon, let’s get going.” Eddie jogged, bouncing on his toes, shaking out his arms, really putting on a show for you.

You fought back a snort of a laugh, crossing your arms instead, still clinging to the ropes. “Ok, I’m ready.” You muttered.

Eddie’s brows lifted in shock. “No, c’mon, why’re you being like this? Sore fuckin’ loser already? You still have a fighting chance, for now.”

“You’re being mean, Ed.” You huffed. “This is supposed to be fun.”

“Mean?” Eddie snorted. “You got to cum. I’m the one stuck with blue balls, baby. I should be the one bitching and moaning.”

“You’re such a dick. Can you just play nice, for once?” You rolled your eyes, head shaking in annoyance at him.

“You want me to play nice? Fine, I’ll play nice.” Eddie rolled his eyes right back at you, annoyed with your antics. “Ring the bell, baby. I’ll go easier on you this time.”

You glared at him, holding him under your gaze for a moment before relenting. “Fine. Ding. Round started.”

Eddie took a step away from the ropes, but didn’t move, hands over his chest, he waited for you. For you to take careful steps towards him, at a safe distance. Eddie didn’t move, he wouldn’t. He’d play fairer this time, let you have the first move.

You finally took your chance, stepping toe to toe with him. Your gaze on his, the both of you looking unmovingly at the other, Eddie’s arms still crossed. You hummed in satisfaction, sinking to your knees with a tiny grin, fingers toying with the strings of his shorts.

Eddie sighed slowly through his nose. He almost felt guilty. You looked so sweet, so smug, lashes batting towards him, fingers hooking to pull his boxers down slowly. Eddie almost gave in, let you have your way.

Almost.

“Hey!” You screeched, a hand knotting through your hair, pulling you back when you started to lean forward. “What the fuck, Ed?” You spat, glaring up at him, hands on his wrist.

“Go ahead.” Eddie smirked, a steel hand holding you in place by your hair. “Go on, baby.”

You leaned forward barely, your scalp screaming from Eddie’s firm hold. Every tug and pull with your movements had you frustrated.

“Are you- Are you serious?” You growled, nails digging into his wrist, trying to pry his hand from your scalp. Eddie’s smirk made you even more furious. “You said you’d be nice.”

“I am.” Eddie answered coolly.

“You are not.” You sneered around a frustrated huff. “You’re being mean.”

“Oh, this isn’t mean.” Eddie shook his head, unmoving elsewhere with his grip. “You want me to show you mean?”

You frowned. “No.” You clicked in annoyance. “I’m trying to suck your dick.” You said bluntly, hoping for even a slight reaction.

Eddie only laughed, soft, lips tugging in a smile. “So go ahead.” Eddie nodded down to you. “Go on, baby.”

“I can’t.” You spat, still fighting against his hand. “You know I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Eddie tilted his head to the side. “C’mon. ‘S right there.” He pushed his growing erection towards you, so close you could almost taste it.

“You’re such an asshole.” You growled, sinking back on your knees. “Try to suck your dick and you hold me back? What is wrong with you?”

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby.” Eddie tsked, sinking down to his knees in a crouch in front of you, his hand releasing its grip just barely. “I’m so mean, aren’t I?” That same mocking tone found its way back into Eddie’s words. You tried to hide the way it infuriated you.

“Not giving you what you want. What a-”

You didn’t let him finish his taunt. The second his grip loosened, you took your chance, tearing from his grasp, lunging forward to topple him over, pinning him on the mat.

Eddie’s head hit the hard floor of the ring with a grunt, your nails digging into his bare shoulders, straddling his stomach. The fluorescent lights illuminated around you, a silver lining around your hair and features.

“You are an asshole.” Your eyes narrowed, finishing his sentence from before. “A mean, mean asshole.”

“That right?” Eddie smirked, swallowing thickly. He could feel your heat on his abdomen, the damp spot of your panties teasing him- driving him fucking wild.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, grinning triumphantly. “And I’m not rewarding you for that.”

“Oh?” Eddie laughed, brows raising amusingly. “You’re not?”

You shook your head. “No, because you haven’t been very nice.” You tilted your head to the side. “I don’t think you deserve for me to suck your dick.”

Eddie’s lips rolled, fighting back a smirk. You were so confident, so cocky, it was adorable. Adorable that you really thought you had him pinned. You should know better, know not to leave his hands free, but he’d let you continue your smugness if only for his own pleasure.

You scooted back, shimmying down until your core was over Eddie’s throbbing bulge, grinding down over it.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie groaned, head tipping back onto the floor of the ring when you started to grind slowly, painfully slow. Hips rocking in a circle, expertly rubbing him just the right way with every roll of your hips.

You leaned your weight into your hands, pressing down on Eddie’s shoulders, palms digging into the etchings of skin- a dagger with a heart under your left, a flaming skull in the right. Under the inked skin, you could see Eddie’s own pale flesh tinging with a pink flush.

“That’s it.” The sigh whistled through Eddie’s teeth like a hiss. He clenched his hands, fought to keep them from reaching up, sinking into your hips.

“You like that?” You grin wickedly down at Eddie, hovering over him, hips rocking slowly. Enough that you know he’s enjoying it, you can feel every excited twitch from him under your hold.

“Mmm.” Eddie nearly whimpers. “Fuck, you know I do. Feel good, baby.”

“See? This is how you play nice.” You grin, leaning forward, catching his bottom lip between your teeth lightly, pulling back so you could see the inked letters- your initials on the inside in a gothic font. He’d gotten it on a rare drunken night in Los Angeles. You told him not to, told him it was stupid, but held his hand sweetly while the tattoo artist carved it into his skin.

“Shit, baby, you-you gotta stop.” Eddie’s teeth clenched, vein on his neck bulging at the sensation. You continued your pace, nails digging into his skin. “Babe, seriously, I’m gonna fuckin’ bust if you keep this up.”

“Oh?” You quipped, brow raising dramatically. “Is this a forfeit?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, scoff catching in his throat when you pressed your core further into his length, hips swiveling in a circle. Eddie swallowed a groan, jaw flexing under you. “Not a forfeit.” He shook his head. “But you…you- oh fuck me- you win this round.”

“What’s that?” You tilted your head to his, mockingly. He fought the urge to flip you over, pin your hands behind your back and make a mess of you. Teach you a lesson.

“You win.” Eddie growled, eyes dark and daring at you. “This round.” He added when your hips finally slowed.

Your arousals mixing through the fabric left you and Eddie sporting matching wet spots on your panties and on his shorts. Eddie tracked you, chest heaving in a slow, deep pace through hooded eyes.

A smug pep returned to your step, hips swaying back to your corner, bending over dramatically so Eddie could get a full view of your ass when you grabbed the third sign. His cock throbbed at the sight, swallowing down the urge to take you right there, over the ropes.

Instead he stood, palming himself for a moment to release some of the ache in his cock, walking back to his own corner of the ring. You watched him, lips rolling in a triumphant smile.

“We’re tied, Munson.” Your nails tapped on the sign.

“For now.” Eddie nodded back coolly, leaning back onto his corner, arms draping over the side of the ropes. “Go ahead.”

You lifted the sign high, eyes on him in a narrowed glare- challenging. Strutting into the middle, you spun on your heel, making sure to snap your hips with every step. You knew Eddie was watching you, eyes glued to your ass, your legs, mouth salivating at the sight. He wouldn’t last long, wouldn’t be able to resist, he was still just a man, afterall.

“Are you ready?” Eddie asked, arms crossed over his chest, flexing. You fought an eye roll.

“Are you?” You countered, brow lifted at him.

Eddie snorted lightly, a puff of air falling from his nose. “I’m ready.” He nodded. “Ring that bell, baby.”

“Ding.” You deadpanned, taking a small, creeping step from the ropes.

Eddie took a wide step towards you, a chess match, every step you’d take he’d challenge. You were growing frustrated, shoulders rising and falling sharply, swallowing back huffs, hands raised slightly in front of you to keep him away, keep yourself at a distance.

Adorable, Eddie thought.

He didn’t look, didn’t give himself away or even give you a warning. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Eddie had your wrists in his hands, pulling them behind your back.

“Oh, come on!” You huffed, fighting in his grasp, Eddie walking you towards the ropes. His sneaker propped on the bottom rope, grabbing your hands in his right, pushing the middle rope up while he dropped to his free knee.

“No, no, Eddie.” You dug your heels into the ground, pushing back when he tried to haul you over his knee. “Eddie, don’t you fucking dare. I’m serious.”

“Don’t what?” Eddie hummed, tugging you forward, your abdomen pressed over his thigh.

“Eddie.” You hissed, cheeks burning with fury. “We are not playing like this tonight.”

“What do you mean, babe?” You could practically hear Eddie’s smug smirk, content and happy that he was embarrassing you. “What do you think I’m gonna do?” His free hand brushed over the seat of your skirt, squeezing the fat of your right cheek.

You huffed, wiggling and fighting to get out of his grip, his hand on the small of your back kept you in place. “Eddie, this is so not fucking funny. You better not.” You growled. “I did not say you could.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dramatically. “Oh, you think I’m going to spank you?” Your body burned at the word, rushing with shamed excitement the same way you always did, thighs pressing together.

“‘M not gonna spank you, baby, don’t worry.” Eddie smirked, patting the seat of your skirt lightly. “But I don’t know why you get so embarrassed to say it, baby. You certainly enjoy it when I spank you.”

“Fuck you, Eddie.” You sneered, wrists jerking in his firm grasp.

“Mm, not yet, baby. Have some patience, we'll get there.” Eddie muttered, fingers tracing the edge of your panties, fingers slipping inside.

You tried to fight the shudder that tore through your nervous system, clouded your veins with pleasure when Eddie’s calloused fingertips slipped through your folds, circling, teasing your sopping hole.

“You couldn’t do this without holding me like this?” You rolled your eyes, swallowing back a whine. “Seriously, Eddie, this is so uncomfort- oh shi-it.” A strangled gasp tore from your chest when Eddie pushed a finger in, curling expertly, a slow pump inside of you.

“Uncomfortable?” Eddie lifted a brow, shaking his head slowly. “Just relax and it won’t be. C’mon, you’re not gonna win this round anyways. Just let me take care of you.”

You’d blame it on your brain, still hazy from your earlier orgasm, that had to be the reason you didn’t fight him. The reason you didn’t snap at him, try to kick him, why you just submitted under his touch. Let him make you feel good, until you were squirming in his hold, toes curling at your fast approaching orgasm until it consumed you. Left you whining, body spasming with aftershocks of pleasure.

“Hmm, who’s the winner of this round?” Eddie asked, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt, wiping your arousal on your ass, painting the soft skin with your sticky release.

You didn’t answer, unsure if you could even if you wanted to. “Ooh, don’t be like that, baby.” Eddie pulled you up slowly, letting you settle onto his thigh, holding you to his chest.

You rubbed your wrist, glaring at him though it was softened by the dazed, glowy look in your eyes. Eddie’s hand rubbed over your hip, lips pressing to your temple sweetly, much softer now.

“You alright?” Eddie muttered, pushing the hair out of his view so he could see your face fully.

“Yeah.” You hummed, rubbing your wrist gently, staring ahead.

“You sure?” Eddie pressed, pulling back to look at you fully.

Your head lolled to the side, a pout and scowl all at once- your signature look, Eddie always teased you about that. “My arms hurt.” Your brows furrow at him. “I can’t stand it when you do that. Your hands are so sweaty, Rubbed my wrists raw.” Your nose crinkles in disgust, just enough to have Eddie grinning.

“Could’ve tapped out.” Eddie hums, nose nuzzling against the soft skin of your cheek. “Still can. Call it quits. Make me the winner.”

You sighed, leaning back into his coaxing touch. “Where’s the fun in that?” You muttered, eyes fluttering open, met with Eddie’s wolfish grin. That was exactly why he loved you, head over heels even if he was reluctant to admit it.

“Fine.” Eddie’s tongue ran over his teeth. “But I won that round.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes, pushing off his thigh, wobbling slightly at the burn in your calves, thighs. “Two to one.”

Eddie stood with a silent groan, stretching his leg. “Go get your sign.” He nodded towards the corner.

You scoffed lightly. “You’re really committed to this?”

“Yeah. I don’t half ass things, sweetheart, you should know that.” Eddie strode back to his corner. “Round four.”

“I know.” You click, the fight returning back to your tone, dripping with annoyance. It made Eddie’s hands buzz, jittery with excitement.

It was the same routine, holding the sign up with burning limbs, still recovering from being held into place. A strut that was more like a step now, a little shaky, though you tried to mask it. Eddie still tracked you, arms crossed, head tilted high and cocky, though his eyes were clouded with a darkness that made your senses jolt alive.

“Ok,” You flung the sign to the side, shoulders rolling back. “I’m ready.”

“That the bell?”

“That’s the bell.” You nodded, pushing off the ropes slowly.

Eddie met you at the middle of the ring, the two of you circling around the other, prowling, waiting for the other to make the first move. You reached out for Eddie, hoping to pounce on him like before. He expected it this time, catching you by your waist. A hand cradled behind your head, pulling you down onto the ring with a huff, hand protecting the collide of the mat with your head.

“Ow,” You hissed through gritted teeth at the sudden jostling.

“That didn’t hurt.” Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically. He knew it didn’t, he knew what you sounded like when you were hurt- he knew all your sounds, all your looks, including the one you were giving him. A glassy eyed glare, tired and ready to submit, ready to get what you wanted.

“You’re being so rough today.” You rolled your eyes. “This is supposed to be fun.”

“You’re not having fun?” Eddie huffed, straddling your hips, fingers teasing the edge of your panties, skirt flipped over your midsection. “C’mon, you know you’re having fun.” Eddie grinned.

“Can we call it? Can you just fuck me?” You blinked at him, unamused. That same demanding look, brows pinched, furrowed in a defiant, demanding frown that had Eddie’s cock twitching behind the nylon material of his shorts.

“Oh? What’s this? Thought I would be the one who couldn’t last?” Eddie snickered, mean and teasing, accompanied with a dimple grin that resembled more of a sneer. Your lips twitched in a snarl. His fingers curled, pulling around the tiny band of your panties.

“You’re just being annoying now.” You roll your eyes, hips lifting so he could tug your panties off. “Just fuck me now. I know you want to.” Your hips raised again, bare crotch rubbing against his clothed one.

“Hm, so I’m the winner? You sure? We still have, what? Three more rounds? Anyone’s game, baby.” Eddie balled your panties in his hand, fist closing around on the skimpy material.

“Eddie, just stop.” You hated how whiney your tone was. “Just fuck me already.”

“Nuh-uh-uh, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “Gotta announce my victory. C’mon.” He patted your thigh sweetly.

“Eddie,” You groaned, the heel of your palms pressing to your eyes in frustration. He loved doing this to you, just fucking with you. Getting your head spinning, thoughts so bleary and distorted until you were seething with exasperation and desperation.

“I’ll do it after, ok? You can have your little victory lap after. Just-Just please.” It hardly sounded nice, sweet and begging like Eddie would normally have you ask. On your knees, usually, lip jutted, broken into submission for him, forced to use a sweet tone that was foreign to the both of you to persuade him to give in to you.

“How do I know you’re not tricking me, hm? Fighting dirty so you get the win?” Eddie looked down the slope of his nose at you, eyes dark and borning, pinning you to the mat. You knew by the way his chest was boasting, puffing out in smug satisfaction, that he was enjoying this. Enjoying having you like this.

“Do you really think that’s what I’m doing?” Your tone clipped, filled with venomous annoyance. “Quit being stupid and fuck me, or I’ll find someone who will.”

Eddie’s smug demeanor dropped, eyes narrowed down at you. His jaw rolled, teeth sucking in irritation. A sore spot, you knew it. You knew how possessive Eddie was of you. You’d experienced it first hand at a pre-match press conference when Boudouani made a snide comment to Eddie, taunting him about you. Your dress you were wearing, black and short, something about how he wanted to take it off. You didn’t hear the whole thing, Eddie had lunged over the podium at him, it took his entire team to hold him back. Take it out in the ring, and so he had, delivering a solid punch to the other’s jaw, a perfect knock-out in the fifth round.

“Oh, it’s like that? You’re gonna be like that?” Eddie snarled through a still tight jaw.

You stayed quiet, a little unsure as you tracked him. He’d pushed you, frazzled you past the point of decency.

Eddie shoved his shorts down, cock springing free, dangling in front of you nearly tauntingly. You would’ve sucked him off, crawled to him and took him down your throat sweetly as some sort of apology. Eddie grabbed your ankles before you could, tugging them up as he sank to his knees, your legs over his shoulders, back sliding in a stuttered friction from the mat towards him.

“You want someone else?” Eddie sneered, one hand on your thigh, the other pumping his length but his eyes stayed on yours, locked into your gaze fiercely. “That what you want?” You bit back a moan, the head of his cock sliding over your folds, teasing you.

“Hmm?” Eddie’s fingertips dug into your thigh, hard enough to have you whining. “If you want someone else, you go get ‘em, baby.”

“I don’t.” Your voice was strangled, toes curling. You were close, so fucking close to getting what you wanted. “You just… You were getting on my nerves-”

“-Oh? And you threw a little bitch fit because I was teasing you?” Eddie snorted furiously, the tip of his cock lining with your entrance. “You fucking know better.”

You squirmed under his gaze, his tone soaked with chastisement that made you feel petulant and small. Your lips parted, a huffy retort on the tip of your tongue cut short by Eddie’s expert timing, cock pushing into you, filling you with a slow roll of his hips.

“You think this shit’s funny?” Eddie’s free hand went to your other thigh, holding you steady to him, hips rocking slowly at first. He wanted to feel you, needed to, even if he was being hard with you. “How'd you like it if I said that? If I talked about fucking one of those ring girls.”

“I’d think you were serious.” You sneered, swallowing back a moan, clenching to still your hips, so Eddie could feel you squeezing around him. “Already have me dressing up as one. Maybe you do-”

“-Shut up.” Eddie grunted, pulling back, hips snapping to the fat of your thighs and ass with a sharp jab. “Just shut up, alright? I’m done hearing your fucking mouth. Ruinin’ shit.”

“You’re getting a-awfully defensive.” You swallow back a whimper at his punishing pace. Punctuated and punishing, leaving you breathless and dizzy at the same time.

“You’re awfully pissing me off.” Eddie gritted through clenched teeth, never breaking rhythm. You were so close already, too sensitive from before. “Don’t ruin this, alright? You’re getting what you fuckin’ want.”

And you were. You finally were. Hands by your head, body lifted to Eddie could fuck into you at a brutal pace. Still, it made you drool, every punch of his cock to your cervix. Nails digging into your closed palms, toes curling, calves flexing against Eddie’s shoulder when his hand dropped down to circle your clit, pushing you right over that edge of pleasure.

He had you flipped before your vision had even cleared. The fluorescents collidescoped with the beams and Eddie’s curls, until you found your cheek pressed to the floor of the mat. Normally you’d screech, push off the floor and bitch Eddie out for pressing you into the filthy mat. It didn’t even register in your foggy mind this time, letting him pin your hands behind your back, continuing his fastened pace.

“One more round.” Eddie gritted, swallowing back a moan, the muted slap of his balls hitting your cunt, hips to the fat of your ass. “One more round and I win.”

“You already won.” You muttered, drool pooling out of the corner of your mouth, body quivering with sensitivities.

“What’s that?” Eddie’s abs clenched, a ghosting of a moan with his exhale. “C’mon, you were so loud earlier.”

“You-” You whimpered, a shiver spilling down your spine. “You already won, Ed. You’re the winner.”

Eddie swallowed, hips stuttering as his own orgasm washed over him. Your hushed, sweet tone, the words falling from your lips- music to his fucking ears.

Eddie released your wrists, placing them beside you, kissing up your spine softly. You were sure your wrists would be bruised, raw at the very least, from before and now. Eddie’s own hands rubbed your back softly, still buried deep inside of you. Softer now, all of him, all of you too.

The pull out was slow, Eddie using his shorts to wipe off his release that fell onto the mat. You managed to stand on shaky legs, clinging to his arm as he helped you.

“I’m not taking a shower here. I didn’t bring shoes for that shower.” You muttered, still spacey but that edge hinting in your tone, Eddie grinned at it.

“Hey, hold on.” Eddie grabbed your arm lightly, pulling you back to him.

“What?” You huffed, feeling his release leak down your leg. You were desperate to go to the bathroom, change into your clothes, clean yourself up a little. “Ed, you gotta give me a break, alright? We can do whatever back home if you still want to, but I’m-”

“-No,” Eddie shook his head, holding your hand in his so sweetly it made your knees weak, gooey with warmth.

“You still gotta announce the winner. Not over ‘til you announce the winner.” Eddie grinned at you. For a second, you thought he might be kidding.

The look in his eye, that competitive edge that always lingered still sparked behind those muddy puddle eyes, told you he was serious.

A roll of your eyes was the only protest he got, half-hearted even at that. Your hand in his, you lifted his arm victoriously. “There. You’re the winner.” You let your hand fall with his. “Now, can I go change please, or do you need a formal victory an- oh.”

Eddie pulled you flush to him, lips on yours, a firm kiss that matched his grip on your hips. Passionate, hard, full of finality in his affection, the way he always kissed you after a victory match. Usually bloodied and sweatier, a busted lip that you had to maneuver, or spilt knuckles. Still, you’d always let him, scurrying to the ropes after his declared victory. You learned quickly after the first few matches if you didn’t go to him, he’d fight the crowd to come to you.

It was always how Eddie wanted to end his matches, celebrate his victories- with you. For all the brooding toughness, dirty cruelty and teasing, you knew he loved you. He knew you loved him, despite all your own flaws.

On the ride back, sharing a cigarette in the Jaguar, ash falling on the dark leathered seats, Eddie looked over at you, breaking the snug silence that settled between the two of you.

“Just for the record,” Eddie blew the smoke out the crack in the window, tapping the ash in the small compartment of the car, before passing the Marlboro to you. “I don’t like those fucking ring girls.”

You looked over at him, thumb circling the soft paper of the cigarette. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, eyes cutting towards you briefly. “I don’t even look at them. I’m not… I got better shit to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” You snorted lightly, lips wrapping around the dwindling cigarette stick, pulling a slow drag.

“Yeah, gotta focus on winning.” Eddie scoffed like it was obvious. There was a pause, you letting the smoke fall past your lips into your own window crack. “Plus, y’know, got you at home. Not settling for them when I got the best.”

Your lips curled in a grin, fingertips tickling his knuckles when you passed him back the cigarette. “For the record,” You leaned onto the console, smug at how he stiffened, trying to play it off. “I’m not looking for anyone else either. Just said that to make you mad.”

“Of course, you did.” Eddie grumbled, rolling his eyes.You grinned, teeth sliding over your bottom lip. “I mean, you know I’m just messing with you.” You tuck a curl behind his ear, nail scratching gently over the shell of his ear. Eddie’s jaw clenched, fighting back a shudder. “Seriously. Why would I go look for some bum when I have the champ?”

924 notes · View notes

allysunny · 5 months

Note

Hello 👋 can I pls request dating and jealousy headcanons for Bale! Batman? The reader works in his company and is very sweet and generous? Thank you ❤️

Dating and Jealousy Headcanons | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 6k words

Warnings: None, I would say? Workplace relationship, if that's a tag, hahaha. Jealous and overprotective Bruce, one (1) makeout session and I don't think anything else? Do correct me if I'm wrong.

A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another one of my Bruce asks! I had a really fun time writing it - I love this man so much omg. I hope you guys have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

Also I apologize if I got any of HR functions and tasks wrong, please do not kill me if they're not correct, I had to do some research, hahaha! Also, I've just realised how vague the information on Wayne Enterprises is. Like, what the hell do they do? I've been rewatching the movies because my family never has, and they're never clear about it lol. Except for the first movie and the whole "Thomas Wayne wouldn't want us to build war weapons" plot, what the hell do they do there???

At first, he had no idea who you were.

And honestly, could you blame him? He’s the owner of this enormous company that employs at least a hundred people.

You were working in the Human Resources department and were praised by every single one of your coworkers. You were the one keeping everything in check, from analysing performance and helping everyone set goals on what they wanted to achieve at work, to organising databases and generating reports. Those jobs should technically be made by at least 3 different people, but you were efficient and very professional, and most of the time took it upon yourself to oversee things and make sure all was running smoothly.

Bruce ran into you for the first time when you were checking on the Applied Sciences department. You had been sitting next to Lucius Fox, keeping a record of all the important work he’d done the last month, as well as going over the paperwork that outlined whatever his job entailed – while still in the AS department, Lucius was now a member of the board once again, and you wanted to make sure he had everything under control – as always, he did.

Bruce had walked in and raised an eyebrow. He’d never seen you before, were you one of his employees? Some relative of Lucius’s? His partner? Who the hell were you, and what were you doing in here?

“Ah, Mr. Wayne.” Lucius said with a nonchalant smile, standing up to shake his hand in a warm greeting. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you. I was going over my Monthly Workplace Wellness Check with Miss [L/N] over here, and it seems all is in order.

“Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him, standing up and offering him your hand. This was your boss – the Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, arguably the richest and wealthiest man in the city, the boss, the man you’d never actually seen, but everyone spent no expense in talking about. And they did not lie – the man in front of you was handsome, with dark brown hair carefully slicked back and warm brown eyes that scanned you over carefully. He looked far too good in his navy suit, and you tried your best not to let your gaze linger on him – it would be unprofessional, and you wouldn’t want to be fired for sexual harassment.

Bruce, on the other hand, thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. Your body was being snuggly hugged by a pretty, dark pencil skirt, and you wore a white dress shirt with flowy sleeves. The first two buttons were open, exposing a small patch of delicate skin and a leaf pendant. Cute.

Slipping his aloof mask back on, he shook your hand, relishing the feel of your hand on his. Your grip was firm – you were clearly trying not to be intimidated by him, but there was also something very tender about it.

“Miss [L/N], is it?” he asked, leaning back and placing his hands inside his pants pockets.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve never seen you around here – are you new or something?”

You tried not to flush in embarrassment. It’s only normal he wouldn’t even know who you were. After all, he’s got a whole company to take care of. And it’s not like you hung around the top floors a lot – your work was among everyone else, not the board. They had their own assistants for that.

“No sir – I’ve been working here for a few years. I’m HR Director.” You replied, trying to sound confident. This was your job and you’d been doing it very well – extremely well – and you were proud of it. It was a great opportunity to let your boss know of how great of a worker you were.

“HR Director, huh?” Bruce hummed, turning to Lucius once again. “You familiar with Miss [L/N]?”

“Yes sir,” the older man replied, smiling confidently at you. “She’s been overseeing most departments for about five years now. She’s the reason everything’s going so smoothly.”

“Really?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Yes sir, it is,” you nod. “I’m very proud of my job.”

Bruce took one good look at you once again and nodded.

“Fox, I wanted to check on you about some of the, well, some of the orders we placed last week. But seeing that you’re busy, I’ll return later.”

Lucius nodded and sat back down. Unlike you, he felt comfortable around Bruce, even if he was his boss. After all, who else had helped Bruce Wayne spelunking?

“How about I fax you when I’m done?”

“Oh, I can – I could come back later if you wished to talk to Mr. Fox right now?” You asked, quickly turning to your desk to retrieve your clipboard and pens.

“No need, Miss [L/N],” Bruce responded, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt an employee doing a good job. I’ll wait for Fox’s fax.”

You placed your clipboard down and nodded, offering him a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.”

Bruce found himself returning it, before turning to Lucius and nodding in acknowledgement and then walking away.

“I’m quite sure he’s gone, Miss [L/N].” Lucius announced, an amusing smile playing in his lips. You nodded, trying to get that flustered look off your face.

The man next to you supressed a chuckle – he was sure the first thing his boss would do when he got to his office was do a thorough research on his HR Director. And it’s not like he hadn’t noticed the heat that seemed to have crept up on your cheeks. He shook his head and turned to you, focusing on the Wellness Check.

Lucius was right. The first thing Bruce did when he got to his office, was do some research on you. Who you were, what job you held exactly you held, how long you’d been in the company. Not in a creepy way (or so he tried to convince himself), more in a “How come I’ve gone so long without knowing my HR Director? Who knows what kind of people are working in my company, and how come I don’t know them all? Who knows what their true intentions are” kind of way. Not that he doubted you – Lucius wasn’t the type to lie – but he was… Curious. Very curious.

He also decided to ask around about you. No one would know you and your work better than the people that interacted with you daily.

The word around was that you were an exemplary employee. Professional, hardworking, and kind to a fault. Everyone told Bruce about how incredible your work ethic was, and how helpful you were. How you always offered an arm when asked for a hand, how you’d go the lengths to help your coworkers even if it meant you would work overtime.

“She’s quite incredible, Mr. Wayne. Very efficient, very focused,” his board members would tell him, going over the fantastic things you’d done for the company. “She’s actually personally trained each of our interns herself – that’s why they’ve picked up on their work so quickly.”

“I don’t know about your department, but we work better when she’s overseeing us. [Y/N] is really kind, she’s very firm in her job, but never rude. You know what I mean?”

[Y/N], huh? Pretty name.

“She’s an excellent communicator, fights barely happen when she’s around because she makes everyone feel heard and understood.”

“Her initiatives have significantly enhanced our company culture, that’s for sure.”

“Her consistency to always go above and beyond in her efforts would make Thomas Wayne proud. This is what he would’ve wanted Wayne Enterprises to be about.”

There were many the people that mentioned his father’s name along with yours. How he’d be proud of you, how he’d give you a promotion right away, how workers like you were exactly what he needed in his company. And Bruce was intrigued. Because, how come such a gem was working under him, and he had no idea?

He had to change that, clearly.

“Miss [L/N]?” he asked you once as you were about to leave for the day. You turned around and couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened in surprise. What did your boss want? And how come he’d remembered your name?

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” you looked up at him and tried to focus. A million thoughts were running through your head. What did he want? Why had he chased you? Oh goodness, had he chased you? Had he run a background check on you of some sorts and was unsatisfied with the work you were doing? Were you going to be fired? You couldn’t – you’d been working here for about five years and never once slacked off. This couldn’t be happening, could it?

“I was wondering if you would like to join me to dinner later this week.” The words rolled smoothly out of his mouth, practiced, precise. He knew what he wanted and was not going to play around.

“Dinner?” you repeated, furrowing your brows. “This week? With you?”

“Dinner, this week, yes. That’s what I said.” Bruce nodded, and patiently awaited a response. He knew it might be weird. Your boss, whom you did not know, suddenly asked you for dinner?

You stared at him, running his words over in your head. Your boss wanted to have dinner with you. Your boss. Bruce Wayne wanted to have dinner with you. Part of your brain told you this was a terrible idea. Everyone knew what the papers said about Bruce Wayne, that he was a womanizer, a playboy. You didn’t want to be just another name in a long line of women he slept with.

But there was something inside of you that kept screaming “GO TO DINNER WITH BRUCE WAYNE PLEASE. YOU LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE”.

Except perhaps, your job. What if he asked something of you, something you couldn’t give him? What if he punished you for it? What if, all along, this was a big ploy to check his sources and get you fired?

“Miss [L/N]? Is everything alright?” Bruce asked, looking at you in concern.

Screw it. You were a damn good employee. There was no way your boss was going to fire you, murder you, or whatever other silly ideas were going around in your head. You shook them away and looked at him once again, smiling.

“Yes, sorry. Everything is fine. And yes, dinner sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me.”

Bruce gave you a polite nod, before looking behind you, where his limo went.

“I will send you the details later then. Is Thursday okay?”

“Yes! Thursday is fine.”

Bruce nodded again, and looked at his limo, this time with a tad more urgency.

“Miss [L/N], I would offer you a ride home, but I have quite the long list of errands to attend to. I will see you later this Thursday then.” He smiled – he smiled – and made his way towards a black limo, where an older man dressed nicely opened the door for him.

You couldn’t help staring as the car drove away.

You were going to dinner with your boss. With Bruce Wayne.

Surely, there was no need to panic, right?

Turns out, there hadn’t been no need to panic at all.

In fact, things went great.

Dinner with Bruce had been surprisingly pleasant.

It started out a bit awkward, with you not really knowing what your position there was, but after Bruce reassured you there was nothing wrong with your performance at work, you relaxed.

And surprisingly, so did he.

He found himself conversing with you the way he hadn’t done in a long time – casually, truthfully, openly. Sure, he didn’t tell you all of the secrets he kept, but he was genuine in his answers about his favourite memories from his childhood, or his hobbies, what season he liked the most, or whatever other question you had for him.

It felt nice to have a companion who wasn’t merely interested in his name or title or wealth. You didn’t seem to care about those, preferring to get to know Bruce Wayne the man, as opposed to Bruce Wayne the name.

He asked you about your life and you replied truthfully as well, telling him stories from when you were growing up, sharing some of your hopes and dreams, and opening up about yourself.

Bruce thought you were fascinating – at first he thought the things people said about your kindness were just polite office talk, but after spending 20 minutes with you, he realised how true they were. You’d smiled at everyone on the way to the restaurant, letting an old couple go inside before you (even though you two had arrived much earlier), refused to ask for anything without a gentle “Please” at the end.

And he could tell you weren’t fake – he was often met with fake smiles and faux politeness everywhere he went, but he could tell you were genuine, and it just made him even more interested in you. After all, not only you were beautiful, with your hair carefully tucked behind your ears, and a fitting dress that, while modest, still managed to make you stand out, but you seemed to be beautiful inside as well.

By the time you got to dessert, you were laughing heartily, head thrown back as joy overtook you. Bruce had been telling you about the worst excuses he’d made to get out of social events, and the last few truly were something. You then realised he was not the man media portrayed him to be. No, he seemed much more down to earth, more focused, more sensible. Not at all the reckless playboy gossip magazines painted him as. It was a pleasant surprise, and you were enjoying every minute of your evening.

At the end of the night, he drove you to your apartment (more like gave you a lift, since his driver – whom you learned to be his butler Alfred – was the one who had taken you to the restaurant in the first place) and walked you to your door, like a true gentleman. You giggled and swayed a bit, having drank a tad too much of wine. You weren’t drunk, no, but you could feel that pleasant buzz flowing through your veins, the one that made you gigglier and happier and made everything a bit funnier.

Bruce steadied you by letting you hold onto his arm and caught you when you tripped on the stairs to your building. You laughed loudly and he pulled you up, allowing you to face him clearly. Your breath caught in your throat, and you giggled once more when you realised how close you were, and how you could feel the alcohol on his breath.

“I really liked tonight,” you said, nodding along to your words. You had been drinking, but you weren’t dumb, and weren’t going to ruin the lovely night you’d had. As far as you were concerned, this could simply be a dinner for him to try and get to know you better, and not anything remotely romantic.

His next words changed your mind.

“Me too,” he said. “I’m sorry if my invitation was abrupt. You’ll have to forgive me, but when I saw you working with Fox that day, I was curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yeah. Everyone said wonders about you, and you seemed like a great worker, and not to mention you’re quite beautiful – “

“You asked about me?” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hand. Somehow, that was the line your brain picked up in this whole conversation. “You’re a stalker!”

“And I apologize for that.” Bruce steadied you once again when you leaned back to laugh and let out a dry chuckle. “But I really enjoyed our evening. I was hoping that you’d accompany me to dinner some other time?”

You looked at him, eyes now getting heavier. The wine was working its magic, and instead of moving around, you stood very still, enjoying the feel of Bruce’s arms around you.

“Dinner? Some other time?”

“Yes.”

“Like a date?” You don’t know what prompted you to say that out loud. That’s what you were wondering, yes, but you weren’t actually going to say it out loud, too scared to face rejection, too scared that this whole thing was a misunderstanding, and he wasn’t interested in you at all.

Bruce looked at you, surprised by your forwardness. Not that he wasn’t thinking the exact same thing – he was – but he thought he’d have to be the one doing the pursuing. After all, he was the “stalker”, as you put it.

“Yes, [Y/N], as a date,” he nodded. “Like a date. As I said, I’m interested in you. I know it might not be appropriate, seeing as I’m your boss, but I won’t lie and say you haven’t caught my eye, and I would really like to go on another date with you.”

You smiled, hands resting on the collar of his coat.

“This was a date?”

He shrugged, “If you want it to be.”

You pretended to think, placing a delicate finger on your chin, and looking away.

“Hmmmm…. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” Playing the part, you stepped away from him and tried to climb the stairs to your building door. Unfortunately, your foot caught onto one, and the floor went flying on your direction.

Luckily, steady arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from falling face first. Bruce pulled you to him once again, and this time he swore he could see all the specks in your pretty eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you couldn’t look away. Bruce’s eyes fell to your lips for a brief second, and you followed his gaze, wishing he would close the distance between you too.

But Bruce Wayne might be a lot of things and do a lot of things – but he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Not right now, when the wine was clearly getting to your head. He was going to do this properly.

He pushed away from you and gave you a friendly pat on the arm. Upon seeing the way your face fell, he mentally kicked himself. Shit. It was the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it? He should’ve just kissed you. But you weren’t thinking straight. And he didn’t want to take advantage of that.

“Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said, offering you a smile.

“Why are you such a goddamned coward?” A tiny voice in your head asked repeatedly. Why didn’t you just kiss him? You had a great time, didn’t you? He said so himself. He called it a date. He wanted to go on another. Why were you always so scared of going for what you wanted? Why dint you just take the plunge and do what you wanted to for once in your life?

Shaking away your nerves, you stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Bruce.” You said, nodding in contempt and walking towards your building. By the grace of some god up above, you found your keys rather quickly and didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness that would’ve surely followed, so you just walked inside and closed the door behind you.

It was Alfred who had to break Bruce out of his trance.

“Perhaps you could take a picture of the building and take it with you, seeing as it is far too cold for you to stare at the real thing the entire night.” He said in a sarcastic manner, causing Bruce to stare at him and get in the car, but not without shooting one last look at the building.

He’d see you again for sure.

Things went smoothly after that.

You went out a few more times, and within about two months, he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You accepted of course – after all, you were just as head over heels for him as he was for you.

You had to settle some boundaries for your office life to work out. You didn’t want anyone thinking you were shagging your boss for a promotion, or financial extras – not at all. So, you set some ground rules.

No PDA at work – this was rule number one, and it was the most important one. After you two started dating, Bruce found himself seeking you out more during the day, just to catch up or look at you (he was whipped). You’d noticed, and it was hard keeping yourself away from him. PDA was a big no-no. You two had to be professional and keep your personal relationship out of the office.

No pet names, no endearment terms, and minimal contact as it was. He’d once nearly gotten himself in trouble, having to switch from “My dear” to “Miss [L/N}”. It was tough and some employees looked at him funny, but he just walked away with his Wayne confidence, and no one said a word.

If you two did want to meet, it’d have to be after work hours, or during breaks, and in private. You would often bring him lunch, sit by his side in his office and just talk about your day and go over work stuff. He liked the privacy his office offered. He could have you in his lap, laugh about whatever silly reality show the Gotham gossip channels had on, and just enjoy some time off work.

No special treatment of any sort. This was very important. He couldn’t turn a blind eye to any problems you’d caused or any work you hadn’t done properly. Thankfully for him, you’d always been an excellent worker and he never had to reprimand you nor scold you. But he also couldn’t just praise you for every little thing you did – at least not at work.

It was hard, to say the least.

At home, you enjoyed being close to him, away from prying eyes, doubtful employers or clingy assistants who wanted his everlasting attention. And you could manage just fine at work as well – sure, you didn’t like seeing other workers drool all over him and beg for him to look their way, but you were also always far too busy to pay them any attention. After all, you had so much work to do.

But Bruce couldn’t say the same thing.

He’d go down a few floors to check on one particular project, or to supervise a series of workers, and find you busying yourself around with tasks, giving orders, keeping files in check, and turning in reports, and you’d look so great doing all of that. Efficient, hard-working. That’s what everyone had called you.

But then he’d see every other person had noticed the same. He could see the way other men looked at you, calling you over to ask questions and chit chat with you. They’d try to make you laugh, offering you charming smiles when they achieved so, and Bruce had to control every fibre in his being not to walk over to where you were and punch those smug grins off their faces.

Their games didn’t work on you though. You’d politely decline their advances, and declare you were taken, but some of them were too damn persistent. To those, you simply wished a good day and returned to your tasks. Something inside Bruce beamed with pride, and he would be lying if he said their upset faces did not bring him joy.

“C’mon [Y/N], it’s just one dinner. What wrong can that do, huh? I’ll take you to some place real nice,” a man in the same department as yours once pleaded, holding your hands in his. Bruce’s jaw twitched and you firmly moved away from him.

“Sorry Joe, I told you, I’m very busy. And even if I wasn’t, I have a very loving partner, and would never cheat on them.” Your voice was calm, but he could tell you weren’t comfortable with the way he touched you.

Joe scoffed.

“Some partner you have – you leave by yourself every single day. How come they never come pick up their missus, huh? If I had a girl like you, I’d come pick her up every day. What kind of douchebag leaves his girlfriend all alone? C’mon – one dinner with me and you’ll forgetting all about that idiot.” Joe moved towards you once again to grab your arm, but you moved away, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I told you; I wasn’t interested. And please do not touch me. Now, you should get back to work. Your monthly reports tell me you’ve been slacking, and I would hate to have to give you a warning.” You said firmly, raising your chin and gripping your clipboard tighter.

Joe scrambled for words, and you walked away. While brushing past Bruce, you could feel the smirk in his voice as he whispered “That’s my girl” for only you to hear.

But sometimes, he had to jump in and save you.

Well, perhaps save wasn’t the right word.

Because you didn’t need saving – he was just jealous.

You were taking a break from your weekly roundups, sitting at your desk, and chatting happily with your closest work friends. You leaned forward to whisper in a woman’s ear, and the both of you leaned back in laughter.

“Good morning, ladies,” a man in a nice-looking dark blue suit said, approaching the two of you. His blonde hair fell loosely over his eyes, and he did little to nothing to tame it.

“Raph! Hey – you’ll not believe what [Y/N] just told me,” your friend smiled, and “Raph” bent over to listen closely to what she whispered to him. He widened his eyes in surprise, before snorting in response.

“You’re kidding.” He turned to you.

You shook your head, biting the pencil you’d taken to your lips. Bruce had half a mind to walk over to you and claim your lips then and there.

“Nope. Saw it with my own eyes.”

The three of you laughed again, and Raph quickly looked around. He clearly did not notice his boss staring at them from across the room, so he pulled up a chair nearby and sat down.

You three engaged in lively conversation, and Bruce fumed at the sight of you leaning towards him every so often and giggling, bending over to whisper in his ear and touch his arm. Why were you so god damn close to him? Was there something going on between the two of you? Why the hell did he not keep his hands to himself?

Bruce’s patience snapped when he saw Raph take your hand in his and place a dramatic kiss on your knuckles. You looked at him and rolled your eyes, doing your best to pry your hand from his.

“Let go of me Raph, you’re absolutely disgusting.” Bruce noticed the way you smiled as you spoke each one of your next words, and something twisted in his stomach. A very ugly feeling that told him he did not like the way you seemed so close to Raph, nor the way he seemed to touch you so effortlessly. Why the hell was he touching you in the first place? Did he not know you were taken? He decided then and there this had to stop. This man needed to get his hands off you, right this moment.

“I’m serious – ugh – get off me, you’re sick! Get away!”

“I believe the lady has told you to let go of her hand.” Bruce’s voice echoed in the room, and nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat and Raph, who was sitting next to you, quickly stood up, brushing his suit.

“Sir – Mr. Wayne, I wasn’t – “

“Working? Clearly. Shouldn’t you be occupying yourself with your tasks at hand, other than harassing your coworkers?” The words left his mouth with venom, and he looked very angry – part of you had to stifle a laugh.

“Mr. Wayne, I promise I wasn’t harassing, I was – “

“Get back to your job before I do something about it.”

Raph shot you an apologetic look before scurrying away.

“Miss [L/N]?”

“Yes?”

“A word.”

You shrugged bashfully at your friend and followed Bruce. He led you away from your department, looking inside each passing room to find one that was empty. Once he found what he was looking for, he pushed you inside, locked the door behind you, and pressed himself against you, kissing you passionately.

A gasp left your lips before you returned his kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck and in his hair. He licked your lower lip as if asking for permission, and you granted it with a soft whimper which he swallowed, hands deftly pulling your hips closer and closer to him.

When you broke away for air, you noticed how flustered he was, and how his lips and chin were covered in lipstick.

“What was – what was that for?” you asked, panting.

“Couldn’t stand to see that bastard all over you,” Bruce muttered, before moving on to press kisses against the column of your neck. You sighed in pleasure and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Raph is just a friend.”

Bruce snorted.

“Yeah, and he’s clearly interested in you. Idiot. Doesn’t he know you’re mine?”

At these words, you pushed away from him and burst out laughing.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny?” Bruce asked you, raising an eyebrow.

“Bruce,” you managed to say in between laughs, “Honey, Raphael is gay!” You kept laughing, staring at his dumbfounded expression.

“What?”

“Honey, he’s gay! We were talking about how I found his work crush sending dick pics to some random guy on Grindr!”

Bruce stopped in his tracks; brows furrowed in confusion.

“Gay?”

“Yes! He’s not interested in me silly – we’re just friends.”

“Oh.”

You resumed laughing, before adjusting your clothes and trying to wipe some of the lipstick off his face.

“Bruce, were you jealous?” you asked, cocky grin playing in your lips.

“No – I wasn’t – “

“Oh gosh, you were!” You smiled warmly at him. It was flattering, and you felt slightly bad for him. He had been worrying over nothing. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“They’re all after you. I know it.”

“They’re really not,” you replied, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “And even if they were, I only have eyes for you. You know that right?”

He nodded, kissing you again.

“Besides,” you pulled away for air, fiddling with his tie. “If anything, I should be the jealous one. Every woman in this building is in love with you. And your personal assistant has tried not once, not twice, but three times bending over your desk, so you’ll look at her chest.”

Bruce shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“I couldn’t care less. I only have eyes for you.”

“Well then, you have to learn to behave. This is still my workplace, and I still have to interact with all of these people. And unless you want everyone finding out about us, you’re gonna have to learn how to deal with your jealousy better.”

He sighed, dropping his head to rest it on your chest. You smiled and ran fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

“I only have eyes for you, you know.”

“And I only have eyes for you.” He replied, before straightening up and fixing his hair and clothes. He looked at you for confirmation and you nodded, wiping whatever lipstick he had on his face, and fixing his tie and shirt. “Perfect”, you mumbled.

Bruce gave you a quick kiss and you walked outside. He’d wait a few minutes before following.

He really needed to work on those jealousy issues.

And he did!

Sort of.

He tried not to think too much about it when coworkers of yours praised and complimented you. “Hey [L/N], heard the turnover rates stabilised thanks to you! Good job!”. “Nice outfit, [Y/N]. Makes your eyes stand out. Very nice.”. “Hey, you saw this week’s morale reports? They skyrocketed – you’re too good at your job, we should all just quit.” It made his blood boil.

He tried not to think too much when your colleagues brought you any sorts of gifts. Coffee, when you were feeling tired, cookies or some other snacks when you were hungry, some even offered to go get you full fledged meals like salads or other dishes from the cafeteria just so you could keep working. You were so kind to everyone – it was only natural the ones around you reciprocated. And Bruce loved it – he loved that people recognised how generous you were, how downright good you were, and wanted to repay in kind. But it still made him somewhat envious.

So, he decided to take action.

One particular morning, he found you in your floor, working tirelessly. It had been a very stressful week, and you’d been far too busy to even visit him at the Manor or have dinner with him. He missed you. Missed your smiles, your laughter, your voice, your touch. Alfred was positive he was behaving like a child whose favourite blanket had been taken from him. It was endearing, yet also somewhat pathetic.

He approached you from behind, ignoring the surprised and stunned gazes everyone around you gave him. He embraced you from behind, dropping his head to your neck, and kissing you there.

You gasped in surprise, face covered in an expression of astonishment. What was going on? Was that Bruce? What was he doing here? And why was he kissing your neck? You were in the middle of organising a few very important reports and did not have time for distractions of any sort.

“Bruce – what are you doing?” you whispered, voice laced in shock.

“You’ve been working so hard, my love,” he said, intentionally loud for everyone to hear. “You should take a break.”

“Bruce, we’re working – we can’t – why are you – “ you had no words. No PDA, no nicknames, no special treatment. Why was Bruce breaking these rules all of a sudden?

“I missed you, of course. You’ve been exhausting yourself. Look at what I brought you,” he placed a cup of coffee on top of your desk, and you gasped. It wasn’t just any coffee; it was a very special brand that you only got one or two times due to how expensive it was. “You need sustenance.”

“Wow, Bruce, I mean, thank you so much, but you didn’t have to – “

“Of course I had to. Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend burning out, now, can I?” He lifted himself up and faced you clearly. He then proceeded to dip down and capture your lips with his, hand cupping your cheek and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. He parted from you slightly, and whispered against your lips, “I couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t stand being away from you. Screw everyone else. If they have a problem, they can come and talk to me. I’m the boss, after all, aren’t I?”

You looked at him through your lashes and offered him a soft smile. You couldn’t lie; you too missed Bruce, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn’t know him at all. You gave him a soft tug on his tie and pressed another kiss to his lips. He could feel your smile against him, and it only made him smile in return.

Bruce then stood up, straightened his suit, and caressed your cheek.

“I bought lunch. Meet me in my office in two hours?”

“Yeah. I’d like that very much.”

He stole another kiss from you, causing you to chuckle, and walked away, as if he hadn’t just shocked the entire HR department to hell and back with his actions.

It didn’t matter.

They all knew you were his now.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love this man so much okay. And wish me luck, going to rewatch TDKR with the family. Yesterday we watched TDK and I don't think my family understood the sheer magnitude of that movie... 😔

Oh well! It'll be fun!

Once again, thank you very much! And please keep your eyes wide open, I have a surprise coming up for everyone!

Have an amazing day ahead!

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfic #the dark knight fanfiction #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x reader #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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infamous-if · 6 months

Text

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

#update #December update #Amy the chatterbox

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house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

protect her

Tara Carpenter x Detective!Reader

masterlist

Preview: "Tara wants to go to college, study, party, make mistakes, and maybe even find love – glancing back at you with that thought. She wanted to be a normal 20-year-old, doing 20-year-old things with her older… girlfriend? Tara didn’t know if she could call you that, but you shared enough sweet soft moments with her to consider you, hers. But she couldn’t do that if she had to look over her shoulder at every creak with a startle."

Warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of violence and mature language. slight scream vi spoilers. read at your own risk.

Note: Reader is around Sam's age, so like 25 or 26. Tara being a words of affirmation girlie. Thought this dynamic would be fun to write about. I'm incapable of writing shorter oneshots ig, so enjoy 6k+ words of whatever this is lol.

Word Count: 6.1k+

The honking of horns blowing through the cool night air was muffled when you pushed the glass door of the diner open. The chimes of the overhead bell rang alerting the room of your presence but barely anyone turned their heads – save for Sam Carpenter who smiled at you.

You shuddered away remnants of the chill air off your shoulders, stepping closer to the bartop; claiming your seat in the far corner pressed up against the wall. A mug is placed on the counter before you even finish hanging your jacket on the back of the chair.

You slide into the high-top seat as the brunette pours coffee into the mug with a carafe. “Still hot, wow, I must be special.”

“Yeah okay, hotshot. You just happened to make it in time for a new pot.” She rolls her eyes, and you hide your smirk behind the mug; taking a sip – ignoring the fact that you usually come in at this time.

“You on the clock?” She asks, leaning on her elbows atop the counter. She glances back briefly, making sure her snitch of a coworker wasn’t around to scold her for not doing her job.

It was still too early for the influx of drunk regulars and one-timers to come by, so really the only kinds of people in here were the ones who were getting off work too late to make dinner at home.

“Just got off, 16 hours. But got a new lead on a case that went cold a couple of months ago so I guess I’m doing a double. Just reviewing some notes now.” You sigh heavily, gesturing to the files and folders sprawled out on the table.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You work too much. You need to take a break and focus on something else outside of work. When was the last time you did something just for you?”

You roll your eyes at her mocking tone, shooting back, “Oh yeah? You learn that from therapy?”

It was her turn to glower when you remind her of the doctor visits.

“Yeah, that’s usually the advice therapists love to give me before I actually open up – you know like they tell me to and suddenly they’re running for the hills, one by one.”

You snort, all too familiar with the tales of her doctor visits. It took a while for Sam to open up to you; trust came sparsely these days for the Carpenter. It wasn’t until one of your frequent visits turned into you having to step in and kick a rowdy group of drunkards who were harassing Sam of something along the lines of ‘Woodsboro’ and ‘Ghostface’. It was only when you threatened the group with jail time did they relent.

Sam knew she could trust you after you sent her an acknowledging nod when the group left and went back to minding your own business. The next time you visited, she opened up; about her past, her father, her hallucinations, the attacks and the trauma that came afterward. And, how she managed to land herself in the big city, which sprouted an overzealous rant about her strained relationship with her sister.

You knew how to read people well, it was a significant part of your job to be able to. So, you knew from the moment you laid eyes on her that there was a fire behind those dark eyes that she desperately tried to douse – you had interrogated and dealt with enough people to know what the glint meant.

You were honest to Sam that you had an inkling of suspicion about the darkness in her mind – you still accepted her despite knowing her dirty secret; that a part of her doesn’t feel bad for killing Richie and Amber, if anything it felt kinda good. Sam was confused as to why you, a cop, weren't locking her behind bars at the confession.

But, having dealt with the scum of the Earth, you can tell she was nothing like them.

It isn’t always easy to differentiate people between just good and bad, you told her when she asked.

A friendship blossomed between you two after that, bonding over similar traumas. Sam invited you to her apartment to meet her friends and sister – who all interrogated you, Mindy, most especially to make sure you weren’t secretly Ghostface. The girl had some skills in that department, you'll admit.

Coming to learn of your career and how surprisingly well Sam trusted you, the group lowered their walls bit by bit. They would never say it out loud but they felt way safer having you around.

“That’s why I don’t go to therapy.” You shrug, taking a sip of the steaming coffee; letting the heat warm your bones.

She snorts, pretending to be wiping the countertop when her coworker peeks her head out to look at you two. “You probably need it more than anyone else in this place.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” You mumble, as you flip through the evidence photos of a homicide you investigated five months ago. The pictures were gruesome, but it was just another day on the job for you. Maybe that’s why you and Sam got along more than expected.

Sam’s phone vibrates from her back pocket and she fishes it out, reading the text.

‘We got into some trouble, some help?’ it was Anika, no doubt being appointed to text Sam because the others didn't want to do it themselves.

“Dammit.” Sam sighs, already taking off her apron to leave.

“What’s up?” You raise a brow at her panicked expression.

“My sister and her friends got into some trouble. I need to get them. Crap! They’re all the way in the East Village.” She says reading the other incoming texts on her phone. “This is what I get for letting her go out.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you.” You say, already standing when Sam mentioned Tara. The thought of the brunette in trouble makes your heart stop for a moment.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that. You’re working.” She shakes her head in protest.

“Carpenter, it’s a 30-minute drive just to get to the East Village, get your ass permission to leave then meet me at my car. Acting like Danny wouldn’t have my ass if I just left you like this.” You mutter, acting indifferent – but it was true, her boyfriend would have your head on a stick if you ever left Sam high and dry, not that you would ever.

She nods, knowing she won’t win this one with you. You throw a $20 tip, slip on your jacket, and make your way back out into the cool fall air.

You lit a cigarette to pass time as you wait for Sam – leaning against your car, trying to ease the nervousness raging in you as you think of what kind of trouble Tara found herself in.

You and Tara are... complicated. You two haven't exactly slapped a label on it, all you know is you care about her more than you probably should.

Because of your close connection with Sam, and how much everyone secretly trusted you. You and Tara found yourselves growing closer to each other with each visit to their apartment.

Tara was weary about you at first introduction, ignoring that you were ridiculously attractive. She can still remember Mindy asking you to your face 'Where did Sam find you?' in a flirtatious tone. You just chuckled and explained how you met her sister, and Tara knew it was kind of wrong, but she couldn't help but be intrigued…

Then Sam started leaving you two alone in the apartment to run some errands. With not much to do, Tara decided to pop a horror movie in to watch with you – finding out you’ve never seen ‘Se7en’ after inquiring if your job was just like the movies.

A connection between you and Tara blossomed from those moments in that tiny NYC living room.

Suddenly she wasn't just your friend's little sister and man, is she magnetic.

She educates you on the joys of horror movies and you watch every single one, listening to her analysis of each scene; simply enjoying the serenity she brings out in you.

Tara is secretly glad you are older than her because sometimes it meant you’re so different, but that just means she can expose you to her interests, and vice versa. You never turned her down – no matter what it was.

On the slim chance you got off work early enough, you visited the diner to keep Sam company and do some work.

Sometimes though, when Sam would end mid-morning, you two would continue your talks at her apartment – sometimes with Danny, over whatever leftover diner food she would steal from her work for you three to munch on over beers and conversation.

Those would be the nights where you would pass out on their couch from drinking and Tara would finally come out of her room when Sam and Danny leave. She would tuck a blanket over your sleeping figure, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, taking the time to scan your features for any injuries. And in the mornings, when you were gathering your bearings from a night of drinks and bad choices, Tara would force you to sit down at their dining table and have breakfast with her. Scolding you for your irresponsible choices, but being grateful you were in front of her, nonetheless.

She worries for you with your job and all.

And as you find yourself giving into her request for morning coffee, stolen kisses, and conversation – you push away thoughts of being late to work as you find yourself grateful for similar musings the longer you stare at the pretty girl across from you.

“Wow, if people couldn’t tell you're a narc. They sure could now.” Sam takes the time to poke fun at you – pulling you out of your daydream. You look down at your figure; sporting a button-down shirt, trousers with your leather jacket on top and trusty leather boots on your feet.

You roll your eyes in realization and flick away the cigarette bud, yanking the car door open.

“It’s the work dress cod– just get in the damn car, Carpenter.”

– –

The usual thirty-minute drive instead took fifteen minutes as you pounded on the accelerator, flipped the sirens on, and dashed past other cars on the road as they cleared the way for you.

You arrive at the corner of a lower Manhattan intersection, the East Village was known for its bustling nightlife; you can see a mix of all ages of people wandering the street as they continue their bar crawl.

It was further down the road, where you can see six sullen-looking figures sitting on the curb of the sidewalk – a police officer standing above them.

Sam dashes out of the car before you can even finish parking. You see her run down the street and talk to the officer, getting in his face and the six others look at her panicked. You sigh, and make your way out of the car, strapping your badge to your belt – you’d need to use it soon, you’re sure.

Tara’s eyes immediately connect to you as soon as you climb out of the car. Before she can think about it, she’s standing up to meet you. “Ah ah, I said sit down! You better listen or I’ll throw you all in jail for the night.”

“You can’t do that!” Sam shouts, stepping closer to the police officer. You decided enough was enough when you saw the police officer resting his hand on his holster.

“All right, that’s enough.” You grasp Sam’s elbow, yanking her away from the police officer. The older Carpenter is slightly startled by the rough tug, but you push her behind you getting in between her and the policeman.

“I think we’re all good here officer, thank you.” You say with finality. You weren’t asking, you were telling and Tara’s inebriated mind is all hot and bothered.

“Like hell we are, these six were caught sneaking into a club underage, and this one.” He points to Sam, “is getting on my nerves. Now, it seems like I can add you to the list, ‘cause who the hell you think you are, buddy?”

You briefly glance a stern side-eye to Tara at ‘club and underage’, she immediately looks away.

“Detective Y/L/N from the 99th precinct.” You slide your jacket aside to flash him the badge on your waist.

”And, you must be… Officer Leroy. From 6th, huh.” Reading his name tag and badge.

“Think that’s supposed to mean something?” You see his eyes on your badge before glowering to meet your eyes. “I’ll arrest you too.”

The group breaks out into loud protests.

You chuckle knowingly, “How long you been in the force buddy?” You ask, not unaware of all of the eyes on you as you and the officer have a stare-off.

“Four months.” He answers confidently, pushing his shoulders up and back to appear taller.

“Hmm… see I had a feeling. ‘Cause, my buddy Rivers just got promoted to Captain six months ago over on the 6th precinct, which means he’s most likely your superior. I wonder what you’ll tell him as to what charge you picked us up for. ‘Cause well, he will see me.” You shrug, offering up that thought for him to think about.

“Oh better yet, I’d just love to see what you write down on that case report, Officer. Leroy.” Your tone was harsh now as you stepped in his face, intimidating him.

He was forced to take a step back as you got in his space, his features paling, it took a few seconds before he conceded. “Fine! Just get the hell out of here, and don’t let me see you again!”

Everyone let out a relieved sigh as you smirked at his submission; everyone immediately takes the chance to leave and Sam tries to tug on your arm but you were still staring the cop down. He put this hand on his fucking gun when Sam got in his face and anger was quickly rising in your veins – you were unmovable, even by rough force.

“Y/N it’s over, let’s go.” Sam tries again but she can feel your arm harden as your knuckles tighten into a fist. “Y/N, seriously.”

Tara sobered up by the time police charges was being thrown around and her worry about your protectiveness was increasing. Sam couldn’t even pull you away. Chad steps in when Sam asks for help to convince you to move. He puts a hand on your shoulder, whispering calming words, no doubt.

But nothing was working as you stood there, still unmovable. She wouldn’t be surprised if Chad threw you over his shoulder and dragged you away, even though you weren’t that much smaller than him. In your boots, you were nearly at his height and Tara had to strain her neck to try and meet your eyes.

It was only when Tara pulled away from Quinn and Mindy’s hold and stepped in front of you, putting a hand just above your chest that you blinked, glancing down at her. “Y/N, let’s go… please.”

When you tried to glance back up at the other officer, whose partner had seen the commotion and tried his own efforts in calming him; his patience thinning by the second – was when Tara’s grasp on your shirt firmed, making you look back at her own stern eyes.

"Let's. Go." Her tone left no room for argument. Warning you from doing something stupid and you clench your jaw, looking away from the uniformed officers.

“Fine…"

Everyone slowly releases a breath when your rigid posture relaxes. “I’m driving you home, let’s go.” You exclaim to the rest but look directly at Tara, “Especially you, Carpenter.”

You place a hand on the sliver of her back and Tara shivers not used to being this close to you in a while. Your hand keeps its place even as you both turn and Sam is immediately on her ass about sneaking into a club. You guide the bickering sisters to walk to the car, zoning out the familiar sounds of their argument.

“–ou’re lucky Y/N was at the diner, who knows what that creep would’ve done if we didn’t drive out here in time.” Your hand tightens, subtly bringing her closer to your side at Sam’s words, Tara glances over when you do.

“It was fine until you got there and started overreacting, Sam.” Tara rolls her eyes, way past just ‘over’ Sam’s overprotectiveness. The younger girl loved her sister, she did, but she didn’t want to live her life constantly looking over her shoulder.

Tara wants to go to college, study, party, make mistakes, and maybe even find love – glancing back at you with that thought. She wanted to be a normal 20-year-old, doing 20-year-old things with her older… girlfriend? Tara didn’t know if she could call you that, but you shared enough sweet soft moments with her to consider you, hers. But she couldn’t do that if she had to look over her shoulder at every creak with a startle.

Sam scoffed offended, “Are you kidding me right now?” And you sigh because you can feel a bigger fight brewing and you can hear the slurring in Tara’s words, not a good mix.

“Let’s get you all home first before we do this, okay?” You cut in when you see the car come closer into view. Fishing for your keys, you throw them at Sam making her catch them.

“Walk ahead and start the car for me, please?” You ask with a raised brow; tilting your head to gesture to Tara saying a wordless ‘i got her’. Sam relents, tightly gripping the keys and walked ahead.

Tara leans her head against your shoulder, grateful for the brief moment of seclusion as everyone else walks up ahead.

“Are you mad at me?” You glance down at her frown, before looking away.

“No. I’m not.”

“That wasn’t very convincing. If you’re mad you can tell me… cause then I can fix it.” You feel her run her hand up and down your back, under your jacket. It made a shiver run up your spine as she continued rubbing lines on the fabric of your shirt.

“I swear, I’m not mad. A little disappointed but no, not mad.”

Tara huffs, sliding her arm off your back when you reach the car; the talk cut short. You open the car door sitting Tara inside, it was a tight squeeze but she was small. You’d sit her on your lap if her sister wasn't here. Anika did sit on Mindy’s lap though with poor Chad in the middle seat and then Tara.

She squeezes your hand just before you shut the door.

Apparently, Ethan and Quinn elected not to go home and continue on with their night.

Sam is already sitting in the passenger seat by the time you closed Tara’s door. With a sigh, you pull your door open, sit behind the wheel and drive off to the Carpenter’s apartment.

– –

Sam hurriedly rushes everyone into the living room as soon she opens the door; making sure to quadruple lock it, twist the handle to make sure it's locked and look out the peephole. It was Sam’s routine whenever she got into their place.

“Come on, let’s go, sit down.” Sam waves at you all, walking to the kitchen to grab water for everyone.

You help Tara onto the far edge of the couch, sitting her beside Mindy, who sat beside Anika. Chad decided to choose a record to listen to get rid of the tense air.

You felt Tara pulling you down with her, “Let me sit on your lap.” She mutters only to you.

“We can’t,” You whisper in her ear, slightly shaking your head. You hear her huff when you refuse her and see the pout on her lips when you pulled back, slightly smiling at her adorableness.

You force yourself to walk away from the younger Carpenter; heart tugging firmly, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in your arms, especially after not knowing what kind of trouble she was in.

Instead, you make your way into the kitchen to help Sam with the water bottles and bread.

“Is this necessary, Sam?” You ask the brunette, who was frantically searching through the fridge on her knees.

“You kidding? Chad is literally just staring holes at the record player.” She rebuttals and you glance back at the younger boy in amusement.

With a chuckle, you say, “He’s just high as shit. He’ll come down soon, plus he’s here now, they all are. Just relax and take a deep breath, man.” You remind her in a serious tone, holding out a hand to hold all the water bottles she was passing off to you.

“I know, I know. I was just worried.” She follows your advice taking calming, deep breaths as you follow along with her.

“Your therapist would be so proud, Samantha.” You tease smugly as she scoffs, hitting your leg from her position on the floor – you kick her back.

“Can you make sure Tara drinks and eats something, and that she’s okay before going to bed?” Sam asks you in a hushed tone, although she didn’t need to. The other four were all too engrossed either in the music or the TV in the back.

“Why me?”

“She’s not ready to talk to me and I’m not either... and I just wanna sleep right now.” She admits with a plead behind her eyes and you nod with no hesitation.

“I'll make sure all of them make it to bed, don’t worry.” She nods appreciatively, then stands so you can both get back to the other four in the living room – tossing them some bread.

“Finish that whole bottle before going to sleep, I don’t care if you piss your pants while you do ‘em.” You say in a stern tone while throwing the bottles, then sitting on the armchair to Tara’s left.

Sam shares a look with you as she slips out of the room, wordlessly, leaving you with the other four. They watched TV for the next 20 minutes, glancing around as each of them got progressively tired the more time ticked on.

“Alright. I think it’s time to call it a night.” You call it.

The twins and Anika slowly got up, muttering goodbyes and promises of texting Tara once they’d made it home. You offered to drive them to their dorm but felt the silent conversation between the friends – as Tara got them to turn you down to get you to stay here with her.

You lean against the front door, watching as the trio made their way down the stairs until they were out of sight. As soon as you shut the door closed, you felt arms wrap around your midsection – making you turn around.

“I missed you,” Tara mutters against your chest making you chuckle when it slightly tickled.

You cup her jaw, making her look into your eyes. “I missed you too, baby.”

Tara melts at the term of endearment, grabbing your neck to pull you down for a long searing kiss. Lips slotted over one another as they found the familiar grooves of each other’s mouths. Only breaking apart when Tara confessed with a bated breath, “You looked so hot confronting that other cop.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm…” She mutters connecting her mouth to your neck, peppering wet kisses there. She can hear you sigh in satisfaction and it makes her hold on you tighten even more. But with great reluctance, you pulled away from Tara; who whimpered in protest.

“We can’t, babe.” You remind her, pointing with your head to Sam’s room.

She frowns, “then come to my room.” Problem solved. She smirked devilishly, tugging you toward her room; you refused.

“We still can’t. You’re drunk and I’m not taking advantage.” You whisper, only stepping close to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She groans letting her head drop to your shoulder as your hand played with her hair.

“I hate that you’re a goodie two shoes.” She mutters making you laugh.

You tilt her head up with the hand already in her hair – gaze intense as you whisper, “I can assure you, I am far from a goodie two shoes.”

And Tara thought she melted at the way your voice dropped an octave when you said that but she knew she melted when you leaned down, tugging her by the hair, to connect your lips.

It was barely a peck, all tender and fleeting.

When you pulled away, she smirked knowingly watching as your eyes traced a path from her lips to her eyes – your gaze all dark, lustful. When your eyes connect you dive into her with a hair-raising kiss; all hungry and pining.

The feeling of your tongue clashing against hers and sounds of soft moans sends time stopping like only you and her exist in this apartment together. But Tara knows it doesn’t really stop and she has to eventually pull away before she takes you in the hallway – right then and there.

“God, you drive me crazy,” Tara whispers against your lips.

“So do you… cause sneaking into a club, really?” You ask unimpressed and Tara immediately pulls back, groaning.

Snickering as you follow closely behind when she walks into her room, trying to get away from you.

“You’re a mood-killer.” She mutters sitting on her bed, arms crossed over her chest; sulking.

“And you’re gonna give me and Sam a heart attack soon.” You joke but it was true. Tara loved to prove her sister wrong; not like being told what to do. It grew a defiant attitude in her that loved to stir shit up just for the hell of it, and that landed her in some hot waters with her friends sometimes. She definitely made your blood pressure sky-rocket, sometimes too.

“Why?” Tara probes. You were always so elusive and mysterious – it came with your job and allure. She can barely get you to open up about your feelings most of the time, saying you prefer to show her than tell her. You definitely did, so this admission from you was new. It has Tara yearning to hear more words of affirmation from you.

“Do I have to spell it out for you? I care about you, dummy. I nearly caused multiple accidents just to get to you. I was going like 80 mph the whole time,” You admitted, scratching the back of your neck a little ashamed.

“You were really that worried?” She asks, looking up at you with a hopeful stare like she was surprised.

“Of course, I was Tara. I even used the siren lights.” You shake your head at the fact that she’s even asking.

She was smiling goofily as you walked closer to stand between her legs, taking both her hands in yours. “I worry for all of you. But you, well, I always worry for you 'cause I’m thinking about you all the time.” You confessed in a whisper in her dark room.

Tara bites her lip, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “You’re the worst.” Was the words that left her mouth.

“What, why?” You ask laughing.

She lets go of your hands to fiddle with your shirt buttons, muttering, “‘Cause you’re standing here looking all good and saying all the right things, and you still won’t fuck me.”

“Oookay…” You chuckle, grabbing at her fingers trying to unbutton your shirt, “That’s enough from you tonight. Let’s get you to bed before you say anything else you might regret tomorrow.”

She huffed but allowed you to grab her some new clothes to help her change; still not fucking her, Tara complains. Your eyes never even strayed from hers, not even when she took her bra off to change shirts and batted her eyes seductively. When she was all ready, you helped her to bed; tucking her in.

“Stay with me?” She asks grabbing onto your shirt, then gripping tighter. “Please.”

“What about Sam?” You ask softly, pushing away some hair from her face.

“She’s probably already sleeping, if not, she’s gonna be in her room all night.” Tara reasons, fully tugging you on top of her.

You give in like you always do.

Work for you and classes for Tara have been a lot right now, not being able to find time alone. You were practically living at the police station with the crime surge in the city, working late nights and long hours. With Sam’s overprotectiveness, Tara can say goodbye to dates so she only really sees you when you come over with her sister. You take your jacket off, place it on the chair in the corner of her room and tug your boots off. Remembering you had a change of clothes here from when Tara ransacked your closet; you picked out a shirt and shorts before getting into bed beside the younger Carpenter.

She was on you in an instant, swinging a leg over your waist, shoving her face in your neck. You feel her exhale a calming breath, once she’d settled into a comfortable position on you. You reciprocate by wrapping a strong grip around her waist, cherishing the way her skin warmed yours and how the weight of her body felt perfect.

“Just stay with me until I fall asleep?” She asks you with such a vulnerable gaze that you would never dream of ever telling her no.

You nod, pressing a kiss to her lips, then forehead. “Of course, pretty girl. Goodnight.”

She smiles against your lips, whispering her own, “goodnight.”

As you hold Tara Carpenter in your arms, you find yourself fending off sleep, only ever being this relaxed around the girl. You squeeze her slightly, feeling grateful to be with her at this moment with all the craziness in your two’s lives. No worries of outside-world problems could break the cozy bubble you and Tara created. Without ever standing a chance, you lose the fight to sleep and easily fall off the precipice with her in your embrace.

– –

“Tara, do you have my nail polish – Oh this is cute.”

You spring up, the voice startling you from the most relaxed sleep you’ve ever had; the type that makes your entire body heavy and head foggy when you wake up. You were the lightest of sleepers, a pin drop could probably startle you awake, but never when you fell asleep beside Tara.

“What the fuck?” Tara grumbles against your side, peaking her head up to see Quinn watching you two in bed.

It took you a few seconds to realize where you were and instantly pale when you realize you never left the Carpenter Sister’s apartment, you never even made it out of Tara’s bed. You can feel the stream of sunlight coming in from Tara’s window and just know you had majorly fucked up.

“I just needed my nail polish but this is quite a sight, definitely a pleasant surprise.” She waves a hand toward you two, and you roll your eyes.

“Shit babe, Sam.” Tara places a hand on your arm. You check the watch strapped on your wrist for the time, 10:32 AM – making you leap out of her, oh so warm bed.

“Screw Sam, my Captain is gonna be on my ass until next year if I don’t get to work now. I was late about two hours ago.” Grumbling, you yanked Tara’s closet open and grabbed the spare trousers and button-down, you stowed in there.

"Can't say I blame your Captain." Quinn retorts, heavily eyeing you as you change your shorts into trousers.

Tara groans at the mess this morning has already been, flopping onto her back.

“Screw Sam, huh?” She appears, leaning on the threshold just behind Quinn, crossing her arms over her chest.

Your hands stall on the tie you were tying as you hear your friend’s voice, making you turn around.

“I guess that’s a no on the nail polish?” Tara glares at her roommate.

Quinn shrugs, still ogling as you changed before turning to leave the room. “Not a wasted trip though, nice catch Tara.” She winks at the brunette – holding a thumbs up.

The redhead just laughs, moving out of the way when Tara attempts to throw a pillow at her.

“Sam… I’d love to explain but I am so late for work right now.” You plead at the older sister.

Tara sat on her bed wordlessly, unsure of what Sam’s reaction is going to be – but ready to defend her relationship with you, regardless.

Sam chuckles shrugging lightly, “I already knew. Or well, I had a feeling, but this just confirms it.”

You and Tara look at each other at her confession, unsure if Sam’s words hold positive or negative connotations. Sam sees the eye-contact and laughs.

“I’m not mad, I promise. I was a little hurt that you didn’t tell me…” She pauses, “okay. I was really hurt when you guys didn’t tell me. But I realize I haven’t given Tara reason to trust me with anything about her life lately.”

That makes Tara’s head perk up at her sister’s admission. All she’s ever wanted was for Sam to trust her a little because trust went both ways in every type of relationship.

“And well, I guess I can’t think of anyone better to be with my sister than my cop friend. Especially after you came through for her last night. You were driving so fast, I thought I was gonna die.” Sam laughs a little but you’re still unconvinced.

When Sam realizes no one was still talking she chuckles again. “Guys, I’m serious!”

You cough clearing your throat, “Sorry Sam, it’s just that... I–uh,”

Tara decided to cut off your stammering, “We’re just surprised, Sam. We thought you'd be more upset. And that we were more subtle.” She admits, shooting you a look.

“You weren't. But, I thought a lot about what to say until I realized it was just you guys and I care about you two so much. You don’t think I noticed Tara being a lot happier than usual and you actually looking somewhat at peace?” She asks rhetorically, reading you and Tara to filth – your cheeks reddening, not being used to being at the other end of the ‘questioning’.

“I see how you look at each other. I know you’ll protect her.” That last sentence she says looking at you and it means the world to get her approval – something that you didn’t even know you wanted, you nod at her appreciatively.

Sam pushes herself off the doorframe, tapping on it. “Now come on, there’s breakfast in the kitchen, don't let it get cold. And Y/N, I don’t think you’re gonna make it to work today.” She winks, leaving you and Tara alone in the room.

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, unable to find words to describe what just transpired in the span of a few minutes. Then you hear a scoff bring you out of your reverie.

“What the hell was that,” Tara commented, getting up from the bed and closing the door before approaching you.

“I’m… not really sure. I can’t tell if I’m still asleep.” You mumble, grabbing at her cheeks to make sure you weren't in a dream. Tara whines against the pinching, swatting your hands away.

You laughed at her frown before leaning down to kiss her slightly chapped lips, all soft and slow. Tara pulls you closer by the neck, sighing against pressed mouths. A sweet moan escapes her mouth when you suck down hard on her lip, releasing it with a loud pop.

“You think I should call in sick today?” You whisper, running a gentle thumb to soothe her swollen lip.

Tara nods, eyes half-open still a little dazed from your kiss. When she gathers her bearings, she runs a hand down your half-done tie, tugging you closer. “Definitely.”

"You can tell me more about how worried you were and how fast you were driving too," She whispers against your mouth, using your tie as a leash.

"Are you turned on right now?"

"Kinda... can I drive with the sirens on?" She slides the question in like it was nothing.

"No."

"Buzzkill." She teases but pulls you on top when her back hits the mattress. “I’ll make you change your mind.”

You definitely forgot to make that phone call.

The rest of that morning was spent in between Tara’s sheets, you two hidden away from the world; ignoring the flurry of texts and calls from your work phone. Only leaving her room to grab some food and water, but getting caught in the crossfire of teasings from Tara's friends when they see the hickeys on your neck.

Tara merely strides past you, dressed in nothing but your button-down, stopping for a peck on the lips and grabbing the water from your hands before hiding back in her room to ignore her friends. You don’t miss the cheeky wink she tosses you and the grimace Sam lets out as she watches. Instead, you keep your head down and follow the smaller girl like a lost puppy, ignoring the other's whistles as you do.

And, when you make your way to your desk the next day, a mountain pile of shitty cases for the next month is stacked high as punishment.

You still find it hard to feel any remorse for the no-show.

It was definitely worth it.

– –

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter imagine #sam carpenter #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #jenna ortega

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

Text

The Sweetest Sylaung

A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!

Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader

Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift

The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions

At least that’s what you had discovered so far.

The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.

You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.

It was in your blood.

The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.

“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.

Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.

“Sorry, cu-”

“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”

“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”

You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”

“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”

The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.

Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.

“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-

“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.

She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.

The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.

I mean, what else is there to do?

Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”

He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.

Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.

A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.

“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”

“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.

Which it kind of is.

Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.

Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.

It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.

Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.

You’d heard about interspecies hookups.

Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.

Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.

“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”

You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.

You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.

When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.

You tell her of the fact, often.

Kiri tells you to stop projecting.

———

The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.

“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”

“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.

Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?

You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.

So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.

Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.

But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.

Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.

He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.

At the hope of seeing you.

You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.

Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.

And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.

“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.

“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”

Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.

“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”

“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.

Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.

“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”

Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”

He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.

Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.

“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.

“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.

Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.

“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.

“No”

Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.

He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.

“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.

“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”

Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.

The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.

“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.

He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.

Beautiful.

“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”

You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.

You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.

And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over

“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”

You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.

“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”

And you could, a few weeks or so ago.

When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.

He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”

“Of course I did”

“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”

“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”

You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.

He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.

He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.

“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”

His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.

Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”

Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.

He makes you so easy.

“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”

Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.

If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.

Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.

You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.

He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.

“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.

“Hmm?”

“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.

“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”

“Neteyam! Hey!”

The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.

It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.

The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.

“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.

Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.

Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.

Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.

It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.

———

You dont know that though-

No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’

Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?

You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.

What if he told Neytiri?

That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...

…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?

You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.

“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…

“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.

“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.

The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.

“Y/N?”

You’re so stupid. “What time?”

You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”

“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”

———

The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.

When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.

You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.

“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.

That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.

It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.

You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.

“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.

Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.

He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-

His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.

His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-

“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”

“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”

And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.

You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”

You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.

No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,

“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”

Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.

You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.

With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.

“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.

“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.

“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.

He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.

You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”

“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.

You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.

He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”

He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”

“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.

“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.

“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”

He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.

“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”

You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”

It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.

“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.

It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.

“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”

You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.

He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.

You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.

“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.

The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-

You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.

It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.

Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.

He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.

He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.

His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.

“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”

He doubles down and you’re a goner.

The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-

Which reminds you.

Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.

You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.

”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.

He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.

When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”

You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-

When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.

“Who said I’m done?”

You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”

“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”

His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.

“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.

It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.

“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.

Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.

You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.

It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.

It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.

You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.

“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”

When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.

“Please” you wail instead “please”

The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.

Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.

You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.

It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.

You’re so in love.

“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”

Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.

You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back

“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.

Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.

When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.

He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.

He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.

You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.

“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.

“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.

The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…

It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.

“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”

You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”

He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.

Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.

You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.

———

Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.

He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.

There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.

He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.

It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.

Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.

Minds his own business.

So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.

Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!

#neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #avatar neteyam #aged up neteyam #neteyam x you #avatar smut

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