#i could listen to this all day. i could loop this for a year. this could be the only thing id listen for an eternity and id still love it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

earthtooz · 4 months

Text

x : CALL ME BACK : *+ﾟ

in which: ratio has been waiting for your call since you left.

warnings: FLUFF i promise, 1.6k wc, gn!reader, ratio being horribly in love and pining so badly, reader works as a space researcher, reader is a sunshine so this is basically sunshine x grump/asshole, written during his first release/ v1.6.

a/n: the way i wrote the synopsis made it sound like it was sad. maybe i'll write an angst version of the same prompt. anyways i listened to 'she calls me back' by noah kahan on loop when writing this, enjoy!

Dr. Ratio is not happy with you.

It has been three weeks and three days since he last received any sort of notification from you, any sort of indication that you were healthy and alive whilst traversing the universe. Typically, you would send daily updates of how your exploration was progressing, or new intergalactic discoveries of yours, regardless of whether or not he cared.

(He cares. He cares more than his indifferent texts lead on. There’s a reason he always responds, after all, and it’s not just because you’ve been friends for almost two decades now.

To him, your constant messages and calls told him that you were thinking of him, and the more space he occupies in your mind, the happier he is; that is a theory he discovered years ago.

He happily listens to all of your rambles. He'll listen whilst in the middle of grading various papers or writing one of his own, he'll listen whilst eating, he'll listen to you as long as you reach out.

So where are the messages he was waiting for?)

Today is the arranged day for you to return from your new mission. Ratio has been counting down the days since he first marked it on his large desk calender, your return being the first event on his list.

He is undeniably excited to see you, yet he feels petty enough to not make the trip down and welcome you by the docks, even if your ship’s landing zone is just outside the University.

It’s irrational of him to hold your inactivity against you. Perhaps you just encountered an inconvenience and lost your phone, or wherever you are does not have good reception to send a text halfway across the galaxy. He understands that your safety comes first on these missions, but he can’t help but feel neglected, and he curses the fragility of his ego for making him this way.

The clock strikes another hour. From his office, Ratio cannot see the ships and come and go, but his ‘scholarly instincts’ are telling him that you are on your way.

Not even ten minutes later, a figure comes barrelling into his office.

“There he is!” You exclaim exuberantly. It seems that the length of the mission did not erode your enthusiasm, and he’s grateful that it is as contagious as he remembers. “And here I was wondering where you were, did you dig your nose too deep in those encyclopaedias you love to memorise?”

You’re still in your research gear, hips and legs buckled to the brim with various equipment that are necessary to your work, and his heart beats guiltily at the sight.

You came to see him as soon as you landed. He was your first destination after a tiring three and a half weeks away from home, not the comfort of your home or bed or shower; him.

“Ha. Ha.” The purple-haired laughs dryly, getting up from his chair and rounding his desk. “Good to see you still alive.”

“What’s with the lack of energy? Didn’t you miss me, Veritas?”

He did. More than you could ever imagine. “Of course I did.”

Opening his arms for a hug, you all but run into his embrace, throwing your arms and anchoring yourself to the sturdiness of his torso. After not seeing you for so long, your familiar frame and warmth provides nothing but comfort.

“Welcome home,” Ratio murmurs into your hairline.

Your arms squeeze him tighter. “Good to be back.”

After a few beats of silence, you step away from him and he reluctantly detaches himself from you.

“I got you something,” you say whilst setting down your bag. Pulling out a suitcase, the purple-haired looks at you inquisitively. “It’s a chess board! I got you a new one to add to your collection!”

Ratio doesn’t bother correcting you that his ‘collection’ only has seven boards at most, but that does not negate his gratitude.

Even whilst away, you thought of him, and that is a great victory.

“Thank you. We can play together, sometime,” he proposes.

“Oh, please. I could never beat you.”

“Giving up before you even start? That does not sound like the Y/n I know.”

“It’s not ‘giving up’, it’s picking my battles wisely. I could never best you in a game of chess, or any competition of intellect,” you laugh as if the idea itself was ridiculous.

“You shouldn’t discredit yourself based on your own assumptions. I think you make a very capable opponent.”

“I know your tricks, Veritas. Buttering me up just so you can chip at my armour and knock me down when I’m weak, have you no shame?” Your voice is light, with an air of joviality to it, and the purple-haired is enchanted.

It seems that you don’t know him as well as you think. He finds no shame in hogging as much of your time as possible, even if it is through a game of chess that he will beat you at. He also hopes that you don’t know him well enough to hear the subtle desperation in his voice when he enquires if you’ll be leaving for another mission soon.

“I don’t believe so,” you tell him nonchalantly. “I’ll be stationed here for about two months. They’re expecting a detailed, twenty-page length report from me, so I guess I’ll be locked in my study until that’s complete.”

Ratio clicks his tongue. “Pity.”

(It’s not a pity. He gets to spend two months with you in compensation for the month that he was robbed of.)

“Not to sound self-absorbed, but why weren’t you there are the dock to pick me up?” You ask.

“Were you disappointed?”

“A little. You’re always the first face I see whenever I come home. It was jarring to not see you amongst the crowd.”

Jealousy slashes at his chest, and he turns away from you to hide his sour expression. “I apologise, I must have lost track of the days.”

“You’re Doctor Veritas Ratio. According to your crazy schedules, there are 72 hours instead of 24 in a standard day, you never lose track.”

Truth is a fascinating thing. By nature, it is black and white, but it’s perception is what traps fools. Humans have strived to discover an uncontested truth for as long as they have existed, but as long as opinions exist, it will constantly be revised and put together again, ambiguity heavy in the air that surrounds it.

You, however, are even more fascinating with the way you can deconstruct him so easily.

“If you must know, I was… upset with you because you were not messaging me.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Your laughter is even more so.

Hubris can really kill a man. Ratio does not need to consult the texts of ancient philosophers to confirm that.

“Really?” You choke out in between cackles. “I didn’t think such menial things mattered to you!”

“Normally, they don’t.”

“So, I’m a special case then?”

“I shouldn’t need to spell it out for you.”

“Veritas!” You coo, placing your hands on either sides of his face. “I am so flattered!”

Dr. Ratio is a renowned scholar with eight doctorate degrees. The mere mention of his name will inspire hundreds, if not, thousands, of people who have the faintest lust for academia, spreading marvel and fear amongst students and professors alike. His achievements will be engraved and celebrated by the university for centuries to come, and his classes are so notoriously hard that the passing rate is 3%.

And yet, here he is, reduced to putty in your hands.

Perhaps that is who he is at his core. Rid from him the alabaster head, the codex, and pride, you’ll be left with a man who is ardently in love with his best friend.

“Stop it, this is ridiculous!” He mutters, hoping to salvage his image at least a little.

You listen to his demands, separating from him with a hearty laugh. “So you really do like me, that’s nice to know.”

(It is far beyond ‘like’ now. Can you come back and hold his face again?)

“I like you when you’re quiet.”

“Clearly not if you loathed my virtual silence! Which, by the way, was caused because the planet I was on had horrible reception. I really need to switch cell providers, mine doesn’t even reach to half way across the galaxy, apparently.”

“Well. I am glad you survived the three weeks without reception, it must have been a formidable challenge for you.”

“Were you worried for me?”

Of course he was. Whilst you freely roam the expansiveness of the universe, the only thing that anchors him to you across the span of light years is a message. “You should stop asking questions you know the answer to.”

“Boo, you’re no fun.” You lean down to grab the bags that lay at your feet, swinging them over one shoulder. Do you have to leave so soon? “Well, I better get going. I’m aching for a shower and a nap. Now that I have proper data and Wifi, rest assured that I will be texting you soon.”

“Cannot wait.”

“Goodbye, Veritas! I shall see you soon!”

‘Soon’ is a relative time frame. He can only hope that you won’t keep him waiting again.

The door clicks shut behind you, and not even five seconds later, his phone buzzes with a call.

“Sorry!” Your voice greets from the other end of the line. “Was just testing if my reception actually worked.”

“There is a reason your day job is a Space Researcher and not a comedian.”

“Can’t you at least laugh? Let’s grab dinner tomorrow at half past six, make yourself free, Veritas!”

You hang up before he can even get a word in, and he’s left to stare at the blank screen of his phone with an idiotic smile.

Everything’s alright when you call him back.

#earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio x reader #tumblr please show this in the tags

2K notes · View notes

frmisnow · 4 months

Text

˙✧˖ ?! — STAMINA. - MDNI !!

— ‧₊˚ — 🕳: "didn't i already fuck all the cum out of you ??"

summary. who would've thought your boyfriend had this much stamina? basically horny freshly woken up tae 👍

notes. i love me some sleepy consentual sex! first time writing for tae (PLSSS tell me if you want more of him or of who rly) 🙏

warnings/includes. (NSFW) subby-ish! taehyung x f! reader, lots of mwah mwah kisses, NEEDY tae, riding, reader is a bit degrading (but he loveees it so we're good!!), unprotected sex (stay safe y'all!!)

"m'baby," his guttaral voice whisperes in your ear, nibbling and licking lazily, till moving on to your neck, leaving a faint trail of saliva, "baby" his words somewhere far, far away yet his tone a little more whiny almost pleading for you to open your eyes, pecking all over your bare shoulders and collar bone till returning to your face, cupping it as well as shaking you lightly.

"tae-" your voice quiet, eyes opening almost impressingly slow, weak hands reaching out for god knows what.

in response he immediately wraps his arms around your whole body, nuzzling his face into your tummy, kissing some of the moles, mumbling something non-audible against the soft skin.

"please," his greedy fingers squezzing the flesh gently, head going up and down, in a mix of looking up to you with half lidded eyes (he himself didn't seem fully woken up) and going down to give all your skin from belly to thighs quick little sloppy pecks "please"

he looked so pretty like this, once again looking up to you like you're the whole fucking solar system if you'd look closely you'd probably see stars sparkling somewhere in his eyes, lips swollen and glossy from the shit ton of making out for what felt like eternity a few hours ago, has it really been hours? or days? or years even? no matter what: you could do it all over again.

feel his tongue and mouth run all over you, listen to him blabber moan nonsense & not get a single thing, have it endlessly feel like wet cum was all over you both, then repeat the loop all over again and something in you sensed from his gaze that he thought just the same.

and it didn't take long till he's all over you again, doing just what you thought a few minutes ago.

once again you felt familiarly stuffed and filled to the brim, though truthfully this time you were a lot more slow with it, not like when the both of you were particularly horny - when he'd grind himself onto you almost immediately, when you hear his deep voice turn higher and higher while moaning non stop, basically when he threw himself onto you.

this wasn't new, you'd both start the evening pretty rough e.g if you had a bad day at work and then progressively get more gentle in actions and speed, that didn't stop him from being horny tho - no, he loved pussy, he loved the feeling of having you tightly wrapped around him, the feeling of closeness, knowing that nobody else gets to have you like this or even slightly close.

he loves the way he can talk to you, the way you could talk to him, you were the only one who could say downwards degrading shit and easily get away with it.

"always have to wake me up, can you not control your dick for once?" you groaned, grinding onto him just a tiny bit faster as he threw his head back in sexual frustration, little drops of sweat on his forehead.

"faste- faster pleas- m'"

something about seeing him messed up like this was entertaining almost endearing, "why? you can't even seem to handle this"

"need t- cum, fill you up, ple-" his sentence was once again broken of by himself as he moaned in response to you finally picking up pace, bouncing on his cock ever so slightly.

"didn't i already fuck all the cum out of you?"

"fuc- no, no always always have for yo'mm" he blabbered to himself, watching your pussy swallow his dick so well, whimpering some more.

"cum for me then" you said nonchalantly, though you were trying to cover up the fact that this whole little 4am episode got you yourself very close to another own high.

as he pushed his hips forward, you slammed into him one more time when he filled you up with hot release, groaning himself, jolting his head back onto the bed headboard when you rode out both of yall's orgasms slowly.

before you could even think of getting of his cock, his hands were at your hips, holding you close to him, fingers digging into your skin, "stay on me, please - wanna cuddle with you this close to me, in me"

you grinned in response, kissing him lazily mumbling against his lips, "i just knew you'd say that"

#kpop smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts x reader #taehyung ff #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut imagines

2K notes · View notes

love-that-we-were-in · 2 months

Text

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes.

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.”

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.”

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see.

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party.

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly.

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.”

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.”

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets.

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.”

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead.

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick.

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?”

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table.

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game.

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win.

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet.

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?”

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.”

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond.

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more.

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this.

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night.

“Why aren’t you ready?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.”

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?”

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way.

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around.

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap.

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more.

“Fancy a rematch?”

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose.

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.”

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.”

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.”

“How many beers have you had?”

“Three, I think?”

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you.

So you say it anyway.

“I bet I could outdrink you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition.

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight.

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?”

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.”

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.”

“Are you going to?”

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?”

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.”

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.”

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head.

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once.

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch.

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest.

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building.

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting.

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again.

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms.

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway.

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?”

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes.

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.”

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.”

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.”

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system.

“You ever blown a smoke ring?”

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now.

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?”

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes.

“We can share.”

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea.

“You’re on, Castellan.”

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular.

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore.

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you.

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close.

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby.

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen.

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.”

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.”

“I know you hooked up with Luke.”

“Seriously?”

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.”

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.”

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.”

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight.

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy.

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend.

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight.

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does.

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?”

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t.

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it.

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter.

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

763 notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 4 days

Text

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

part one | two | three | bonus chapter | four

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days.

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days.

It’s scary.

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space.

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up.

But you’re not quite there yet.

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy.

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting.

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice.

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting.

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either.

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause.

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally.

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick.

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach.

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment.

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all.

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat.

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat.

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself.

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position.

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him.

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass.

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that.

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step.

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy.

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you.

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea.

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence.

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there.

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do.

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue.

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder.

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out.

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person.

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now.

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort.

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you.

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him.

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle.

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer.

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up.

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes.

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man.

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that.

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind.

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning.

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—”

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again.

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this.

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings.

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you.

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff.

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group.

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice.

Soon, it’s just the two of you.

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond.

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.”

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high.

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts.

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence.

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice.

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud.

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing.

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset.

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running.

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears.

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream.

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care.

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right.

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you.

You feel like you might throw up.

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away.

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking.

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is.

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying.

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder.

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette.

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you.

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection.

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you.

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them.

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again.

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale.

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice.

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive.

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more.

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby.

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again.

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink.

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words.

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles.

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk.

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup.

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant.

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit.

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it.

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede.

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done.

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you.

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him.

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom.

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta.

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever.

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side.

“You in there?”

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup.

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing.

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes.

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating.

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him.

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate.

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed.

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive.

Spencer attempts to speak again.

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?”

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face.

You don’t know where it comes from, either.

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms.

Too scared.

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too.

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room.

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final.

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home.

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do.

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing.

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet.

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move.

If only time would freeze before he could walk away.

But it doesn’t.

He sucks in a decisive breath.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

It’s that fucking phone call all over again.

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

820 notes · View notes

foone · 9 months

Text

Your best guess is that you've been in this time loop for something north of 15 years. You've lived that day, April 9th, 1997, something like 6000 times. You think... The second most ironic thing about being in this time loop* is that you have ADHD, and time blindness has always been something you've suffered with.

The time loop hasn't helped. You'll really get into a book, and don't look up from it until it's yesterday. Or, earlier today? Or tomorrow, it's all the same day. You wake up in your bed at 8:27, having slept through your alarm, no matter what happens. You've had plenty of time to do all the classic time loop things: told everyone (they forget the next day), kissed everyone (a surprising number of people turn out to be up for itl), tried to run (you made it all the way to Memphis one day, but it didn't make any difference), tried to make everything perfect and right (harder than you'd think, and there's nothing obvious that needs fixing), and gotten yourself exploded and shot and run over. You even made it into orbit once, NASA still swearing at you on the radio the whole way up. You've robbed all the local banks, kidnapped the mayor, and stolen half the stuff in the town, just to see what people have. Why not? It's hard to have a sense of morality when there are no repercussions to any actions, at least none that last more than 24 hours.

You convinced a scientist to shoot neutrinos at you once, thanks to something you'd read in a book on time. Didn't seem to make any difference, though you could swear the next day felt different, in some hard to define way.

You've gotten into a rhythm of starting each day and just walking out your front door, to visit a different place in the city, and knock on their door. If they're home, you ask questions, then use the answers next time to get further. If not, you let yourself in and see what their house looks like from the inside.

Even their shocking crimes no longer can shock you. Mr. Stevens is a burgler, Jenny J. is halfway through murdering her husband, Alex over on 5th street has a basement full of photos they shouldn't have, and more neighbors than you'd think are cooking meth or growing cannabis in their little backyard sheds or closets.

You can go to the police, you can confront them, you can explose them, or you can get a weapon and go all vigilante on them... It doesn't matter in the long run (and for you, the long run is very short indeed). They'll be fine the next morning, back at it again like nothing happened.

You wake up that same Wednesday morning, put on some clothes, and walk out the door. You got into a gimmick of crossing the road with your eyes closed: you know where the cars are, and if you keep the same pace, they definitely won't hit you. Besides, if you do, you wake up back in your bed. Big woop.

But you don't make it to the road this time. You trip, falling on the hard concrete of the sidewalk. What the hell? Your arms ache from catching yourself, and you have to suppress the time-looper instinct of "I hurt. Restart the loop!",at least until you figure out what happened.

You look back and there's a sneaker sitting on the sidewalk. A perfectly normal shoe, just a little skuffed up. A bit down the sidewalk, there's another, the other foot presumably.

You have a moment of equal parts panic and elation. You're out of the loop? You're out of the loop! This might be Thursday.

You gather yourself from the sidewalk and run back up the path to your door. You open the newspaper... April 9th. This is still the same day. You look back at the road, seeing the patterns of crossing cars you've seen thousands of times before. You listen, and your neighborhood sounds right. You can hear Timothy down the road yelling about baseball, so it's not 9:14 yet.

This isn't a new day. This is the day. This is your day. So why is something different? What, a partial time loop? And almost time loop? Most things are the same, but not all? It makes no sense.

You hear yelling down the road. You jog towards it, as an out of place sound just doesn't happen in your day. Around the corner there's a police officer shouting at a woman who is rapidly disrobing and flinging her discarded clothes at the officer, who is shouting at her and his radio. So far, she seems to be winning, but she's about out of linen ammunition.

You realize you don't recognize her. She's not one of the people you know, and you know everyone. She's someone new, the very anthesis of what a time loop is about. That, combined with recognizing that charicatistic disdain for consequences makes you gasp. My God... She's another time looper. She's done this day before, and it's just repeated, and now she's doing everything to see what happens. You're not alone in this crowded city anymore! You run towards her, eager to introduce yourself.

* Themost ironic thing about being in this time loop is that every copy of Groundhog Day at your local Blockbuster is checked out.

#Time loop #my writing

2K notes · View notes

live-laugh-neteyam · 1 year

Text

The Moon ||| neteyam x human!reader

masterlist

epilogue

pairings: neteyam x human!fem!reader

summary: neteyam would give you the moon if he could

words: 8.8k (I’m dead omg)

warnings/notes: friends to lovers, major ANGST (cried while writing this one) bits of fluff, implied sexual themes, lovesick!neteyam, mentions of sickness and medical treatments, death, use of y/n, I am not a medical professional so I lot of this is just my interpretation I’m sorry that it won’t be accurate pls don’t hate me, mentions of mates, spider is your adoptive brother (in this house we love spider 🫶🏻), and of course my corny writing, this is the product of me listening to moon song on a loop not sure how this happened, This is gonna be rough apologies in advance

The first time Neteyam saw you was when he was eight years old. He was used to seeing Spider around, but not you. You were new.

Trembling behind Spider it looked like you were trying to disappear. Barely peeking up over his shoulder to look. Neteyam's tail swished in curiosity as he observed you.

"Guys, this is Y/N." Spider introduced you while pushing you forward. "She's a little shy." He added.

Your big eyes looked up at the Na'vi children who towered over you. "Hi." You whispered with an awkward smile and a small wave. "You're really tall." You giggled.

Neteyam stared at you in awe immediately infatuated with you. You were unlike any sky person he had ever seen.

"You're just really short." Lo'ak snapped back rolling his eyes.

Neteyam noticed your smile falter and shoved his brother. Your smile was beautiful, the prettiest thing the young boy had ever seen. At that moment Neteyam decided you should always be smiling.

Spider explained to the group that you were born here like him. You had never left the lab before. This was the first time you saw the beauty of the forest and the first time you saw a Na'vi in the flesh. You were in awe of everything around you.

Spending the rest of the day playing with the other children you couldn't help but get distracted by your surroundings. The forest was alive it's beauty glowing all around you. You had the urge to explore every last inch of it.

Neteyam kept his eyes locked on you. He was worried that you'd get separated from the rest of them. You were small and delicate, unable to properly protect yourself, so Neteyam decided to protect you.

So that's how it was whenever you played with the Sully children. Neteyam always glued by your side. He couldn't explain it. The way he felt an immediate draw towards you. As if the two of you were meant to find each other.

Neytiri was less than thrilled to have another human child around her kids. One was bad enough. After everything humans had done to their home -to her - she despised them. She even had her doubts about the loyal few who stayed.

What made her even more unsure of you was the way her eldest son never left your side. Ever since Spider introduced you Neteyam was glued to your side. Had it been anyone else Neytiri would have found it endearing. But you were human. You were a demon.

A few years later Neytiri started to notice things about you. The way the forest left you in awe no matter how many times you’d seen it. She'd catch you gasping in excitement over the littlest things. It was as if you could see.

She also noticed the strong bond you had with her children, especially with Neteyam. She knew her son well. Neytiri was well aware of how he felt towards you. She feared the day that he realized his own feelings.

You were sitting in the forest with Neteyam next to you. His mother was across from the two of you. Neytiri was shooting daggers with her eyes at you. The stare made you shift uncomfortably. Neteyam picked up on it placing a gentle hand on your knee.

Neytiri observed how you immediately relaxed. The sweet genuine smiled you gave her son and how he gave you one of his own.

Neytiri had been trying to give Neteyam a lesson on arrow making. He had insisted that you join them since he promised to spend the afternoon with you. Much to her dismay, you were here unintentionally distracting him.

You felt something barely grace your shoulder. Figuring it was Neteyam you didn't pay it much mind. Then another tap on your head. One on your arm. Then your other shoulder.

Looking up, you met Neytiri's eyes. She was staring at you like she had seen a ghost. Starting to feel panicked you looked at your arms. You gasped as your eyes filled with wonder.

Several atokirina' floated around you. They danced up and down gently resting on you. Neteyam had the biggest smile on his face. To him it was confirmation the great mother saw you the way he did.

It was undoubtedly a sign from Eywa herself. Neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, she was brought back to the first time she met her mate.

Unable to shake what she had witnessed she went to her mother. After explaining the strange encounter Neytiri waited while Mo’at consulted with Eywa.

“Eywa sees the child.” Mo’at finally spoke. “The Great Mother has declared that she will spend the rest of her life by Neteyam.”

Neytiri couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The concept was so foreign to her. Eywa had accepted you as one of her own. Not only that, it was also her will that you stay by Neteyam. Neytiri would never question the will of Eywa. While she didn’t fully understand it she would have to learn to be okay with it.

From that day on, Neteyam’s mother treated you with a kindness she never had before. You didn’t know what happened for her to finally warm up to you but you were forever grateful she did.

Years went by and it was time for Neteyam to begin training for his iknimaya. You were so excited for him, knowing how important this rite of passage was to the Na'vi. There was a part of you that was downcast as he wouldn't be able to spend time with you every day like he usually does.

Your heart hurt because all you wanted was to be able to experience this with him. For as long as you could remember you wanted to be Na'vi. It was your birthday wish every year though you never told anyone out of embarrassment. That and it wouldn't come true if you told.

You and your brother had begged for avatars for years. Unfortunately the materials and funding needed just wasn’t there. Norm and Max wanted nothing more than to be able to grant your wishes, but it just wasn't a possibility.

"So how long are you going to be gone this time?"

Neteyam sighed. He could hear the disappointment in your voice and it broke his heart. "A month. Maybe two."

You felt like you could burst into tears right then and there. Neteyam was your best friend, not to mention your crush for as long as you could remember. You couldn't imagine not seeing him for that long.

"I'll be back before you know it." Gently he brushed hair out of your face. As much as he loved seeing you in the forest he treasured the moments in your room without your mask. Neteyam loved to see your face without the glass restricting his view.

"Don't forget about me." You playfully pushed him.

He gasped in mock offense. "I could never." He smiled. Before he could stop himself he placed a kiss on your forehead.

Stopping dead in his tracks he pulled back. The pair of you stilled blushes adoring both of your cheeks.

Neteyam tried to burry his feelings for you but it was impossible. He had fallen helplessly in love with his best friend. Not caring that you were human he couldn't deny his feelings. He just wasn't sure how to tell you.

Before you knew it, you were throwing your arms around him as you hugged him goodbye. You went to pull away but he kept you in his embrace for a little longer.

"I'm gonna miss you." He sighed.

"You're going to have so much fun you won't even think about me."

"That's not true you're always on my mind." He blushed.

A blush engulfed your face and you bit your lip. You noticed Neteyam's tail swishing back and forth. Looking up at him he was smiling back at you. His cheeks were slightly tinted.

Standing back with the rest of his family you waved as he joined the other young warriors. "He'll be back before you know it." Spider smiled knowingly at you.

No matter how hard you tried you couldn't keep your crush from your bother. He immediately figured it out. Little did you know most everyone had figured it out. The only ones who hadn't were you and Neteyam.

Neytiri watched you with a smile on her face. As time passed she accepted the idea of you with her son. Finding amusement in the two of you pining after each other.

The time without Neteyam dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Spider did his best to keep you occupied as did the Sully siblings. But your mind never strayed far from the boy your heart beat for.

You were getting ready for bed after a long day. Neteyam was halfway through his training by now. You had been counting down the days to his return.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Norm stood awkwardly in the doorway. “You have a visitor.” He informed you.

Furrowing your eyebrows you looked at him confused. It was way past the curfew set for the lab. “Who?”

Before he could answer you Lo’ak pushed passed him and entered your room. He look frustrated and exhausted.

“What are you doing here Lo’ak?” You asked afraid that something was wrong.

Without saying a word he removed the communicator from his neck and handed it to you. “This is for you.” Was all he said.

You looked over the tech not understanding why he was giving it to you especially now of all times. “I’ve been trying to sleep for hours. He won’t leave me alone until he speaks with you.”

Your face lit up knowing exactly who he was. Wasting no time you pressed the button. “Neteyam?” You hesitantly asked.

“Oh Eywa how I’ve missed your voice.” Neteyam’s voice rang through the speaker.

“Yeah I’m not staying to listen to this.” Lo’ak deadpanned before leaving.

Neteyam missed you terribly and begged his father to let him speak with you. Jake felt like it would be a distraction so he didn't allow it. So Neteyam came up with the brilliant idea to pester his little brother until he gave it. It worked rather quickly.

You spent the whole night talking to Neteyam. He told you all about his training not sparing a single detail. He was more interested in what you had been up to. He just wanted to hear your voice.

The day Neteyam was to return was finally here. You and Spider sprinted through the forest heading towards the village. By the time you got there he had already returned.

Searching the crowd you finally saw him. Knees weak your breath caught in your throat. Somehow he looked taller. His mussels were more defined, shoulders wider, and his face sharper. He was no longer a boy. He looked like a man.

You had always wanted Neteyam but this was different. In that moment your want for him was something you hadn't experienced before. It almost felt wrong. Almost.

Neteyam searched the crowd for you. Eyes glancing over a figure that was familiar he did a double take. It was you. You looked different.

Neteyam gulped as he took in your new features. Your hips wider and chest fuller you no longer looked like the little kid everyone was so used to. Neteyam noticed your hair was shorter, resting at just below your shoulders now.

You were beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. A gift from Eywa herself. A primal urge came over him, a desire to take you right then and there. You were to be his mate, he felt that you were destined.

"Neteyam!" You squealed running into his arms. He picked you up twirling you in the air like you weighed nothing.

"I missed you Ma'Y/N." He snuggled his face into your neck.

You bit your lip at the pet name. It was usually reserved for mated couples but Neteyam couldn't help but let it slip.

As the weeks passed on the attraction between the two of was stronger than ever. Stolen glances and intentional accidental touches filled your days.

After Neteyam successfully claimed his Ikran earning his spot among the people he would take you for rides.

"I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you." You looked up at him.

The look you gave him made his heart flutter. A strange satisfaction overcame him knowing that you were proud of him. He wanted you to be proud of him.

That night he walked you back to the lab following you to your room. He desperately needed to speak with you. He had been working up the courage all night.

Neteyam sat next to you on your bed. He loved the moments you shared without your mask in the way. Staring into your eyes without anything in front of them.

"I have earned my place among the people." He said suddenly.

You nodded slowly not sure where he was going with this. "I know I was there." You giggled.

"I may now chose a mate."

Your heart dropped. So this was why he wanted to talk. He was here to tell you that he found someone. He probably wanted you to leave him alone now.

Anxiety flooded your mind as you felt stupid. A part of you actually thought he liked you back. Why would he? You weren’t even the same species. You had nothing to offer him.

“I see.” You gave your best fake smile. “Who’s the lucky girl then?” You had to know.

“You.” Neteyam said without hesitation.

“I’m sorry what?” You asked. There was no way you heard that right.

“You, if you’ll have me.” He looked away shy. He took your confusion as rejection. “I want you to be my mate Y/N.”

“Are you sure?” You asked dumbfounded.

Neteyam cupped your face in his palms. “I see you Y/N.”

Your heart sped up at the phrase you found so beautiful and so terrifying at the same time. He saw you. Every broken piece, every imperfection, all of your good qualities as well as the bad ones, and he still wanted you anyways.

He wanted you despite it all. Neteyam saw you.

“I am human Neteyam.” You said. You needed him to be sure of his choice. Na’vi mate for Life. Of course you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, but you needed to be sure he wouldn’t regret it.

“I know. That changes nothing.”

“I cannot make Tsaheylu.” The bond was the building block of life on Pandora. It was vital to their existence. They bonded with their mates, you would be unable to bond with him in this way.

“I know. But I see you anyways.” He confessed.

“I’ll never be tsahík.”

“None of that matters to me Y/N. Stop trying to give me reasons to not want you. It won’t work.”

Looking down in shame you gave him one last reason. “I can’t give you children Neteyam. You’d be making so many sacrifices just to have me. It’s not an equal trade.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He smiled. “You are all I want. It’s always been you Y/N. Always. Nothing else matters when you are enough for me.”

Neteyam leaned in as if he was about to kiss you. “You are what I want Y/N.”

“You are what I want too.” You breathed. “I see you Neteyam.

That was all he needed to hear. He crashed his lips onto yours passionately kissing you. Lips moving in sync until you pulled away to catch your breath.

Staring into his golden eyes you removed your shirt leaving your chest bare before him. Neteyam’s eyes widened at your sudden action. He wasn’t expecting anything to happen, he was happy with kissing.

“We don’t have to do anything Ma’Y/N.”

There was that name again. You smiled. “I want to. I want you Neteyam. That is, if you’ll have me.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

His tail twitched in excitement before he tackled you back onto the bed. The two of you spent the night a tangled mess of limbs. “We are mated before Eywa for life.” Neteyam whispered into your ear before you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

It had been two years since you mated with Neteyam. It had been the best years of your life.

His family was immediately accepting of your relationship. To your surprise so was most of the clan. There were a few that frowned upon your union but Neteyam made sure to put them in their place.

Following Neteyam’s lead you ran through the forest. He made sure to keep looking back for you so the two of you wouldn’t get separated.

“So where are we going again?” You huffed out of breath.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled back at you.

Neteyam took you to a clearing that had the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen. You were fascinated by the nature of Pandora.

“I wish I could smell them.” You sighed. Always longing to smell the fresh air and to feel the breeze on your face.

Neteyam frowned at your words. He too hated your mask, but it kept you alive. It allowed him to show you his home. To Neteyam it was worth the inconvenience.

“Come on, let’s keep going.” He smiled. “There’s something else I wanna show you.”

Without a second thought you followed him. Starting to feel faint you slowed down. Everything was getting blurry and your head was woozy.

"Neteyam, could you slow down a little?" You panted, pushing your hand against a tree for support. "I'm a little dizzy."

Stopping dead in his tracks he rushed over to you. His mind racing with a million different thoughts. His heart screaming at him to protect you. Not looking good at all your face had gone pale. Your eyes looked exhausted. You looked ill.

"I will take you to my grandmother. You do not look good Ma'Y/N."

"I'm fine Teyam." You attempted a smile to reassure him. The last thing you wanted was to be rushed into the village. The People were used to you, but having the Tsahík tend to a sky demon may be pushing your luck. "Just take me back to the lab please."

Scooping you up he held you close to his chest bridal style. "Neteyam, I could've walked. I'm not broken." You rolled your eyes. Ignoring your protests he continued the trek back to the lab. Something was wrong and you were unwell.

Gently setting you down at the lab entrance he insisted that he come in with you. Neteyam was still slightly unsure of sky people, the lab making him nervous. But this was different. Anxiety consumed him and he couldn't leave without making sure you were okay.

Taking your mask off you then offered Neteyam a mask of his own. He hastily took it eyes never leaving you. The last thing on his mind was a mask for himself. He could breath this air for hours anyways.

Walking the familiar hallways to your room he observed your small steps. Gently panting as if the walk was tiring you out. You insisted you were fine but your body language said otherwise.

Plopping down on your bed you made grabby hands reaching out for him. "Cuddle me." You playfully commanded. Smiling he complied gently laying down next to you, arms instinctively pulling you closer.

Taking a deep breath letting your scent fill his lungs he hummed. Neteyam gently peppered a few kisses to your face before burying his head in your neck.

"Neteyam stop." You giggled. "It tickles." You could feel his smile against your neck. Running your free hand through his braids you sighed in satisfaction. Moments like this made up for all the bad ones.

You felt so safe in his arms, like he could protect you from anything. And he would. He'd burn the whole world if it meant keeping you safe.

"Teyam?" You whispered fingers still playing with his hair. He hummed in response snuggling closer to you. "I love you to the moon and back."

The expression felt odd rolling off your tongue. Checks heated in a blush you were a bit embarrassed. After all, you found it to be incredibly cheesy. But there was a part of you that found the sentiment sweet.

You'd first read it engraved on a tiny silver necklace. It had belonged to your mother. One of the scientists gave it to you once you were older. It was the only thing you had of her. Everything else was left up to your imagination.

For years they tried to allude to the fact that your mother had passed away. It seemed easier to let you believe that than tell you the truth. But even though you were a child you weren't clueless. You knew that your mother had left you here.

Terrified of everything that had happened she went back to earth unable to take you with her. That's how you found yourself being raised by the scientists on Pandora with Spider as your honorary brother.

A small part of you cling to the saying. Wishing it was true, that your mother loved you to the moon and back - to Pandora and back. That one day she'd be back for you.

You knew it would never happen. So instead you say it to Neteyam. Because you truly meant it. You would go to the moon and back for him. And you would be back. You'd always come back for him.

Neteyam's ears perked up at your words. It wasn't the first time you had told him you loved him but you had never said it like this. He didn't entirely understand it but he appreciated your words just the same.

Smiling at you like you were the most precious thing he ever laid his eyes on. "I will give you the moon my love."

Laughing you pulled him closer. "You can't give someone the moon Neteyam."

But he would for you. You were his moon, his stars, and everything in between. Whatever you asked for he would deliver. "If I could give you the moon, I would give you the moon." He confirmed.

"You're a dork." You giggled.

"So are you then. You started it." He playfully fired back. Neteyam's mind turned somber for a moment. "Are you feeling better?"

You nodded cuddling more into your mattress to get comfy. "Much better. I think I need more cuddles to be one hundred percent though."

Smiling, Neteyam snuggled into you. "I'm more than happy to assist."

As the weeks went by you continued to feel strange. It didn’t seem like a big deal to you, so you didn’t want to bring it up. After all, you were human. Getting sick was a part of every day life.

No one noticed how you were acting strange. Except Neteyam of course. He picked up on the way you always seemed tired. The way your eyes looked a bit dull as they stared off into space. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, he saw it all.

You were now having trouble keeping your meals down. Stomach always feeling like it was in knots you didn’t know what was wrong. No one had caught you throwing up yet, but they did start to notice how you were losing weight without trying.

Norm awkwardly tried to broach the subject as always trying to be the father you never had. He was afraid you were doing something self inflicted and wanted to support you in any way he could.

It took awhile but you were able to convince him it wasn't what he thought. You honestly didn't know what was wrong, you just one day started feeling sick.

Norm being the man of science that he was immediately wanted to start tests to get to the bottom of what was wrong. Somehow you managed to get him to hold off for awhile. The idea of going through a bunch of tests scared you.

You didn’t get out of it for very long. Neteyam was worried sick about you and insisted you do whatever was needed to get better. Reluctantly you agreed spending the next several days undergoing tests and blood work.

Neteyam even took you to his grandmother for her guidance. She wasn’t able to pinpoint what was wrong. Whatever you had was a human sickness, unknown to the Na’vi.

Jake took a special interest in what was wrong. He was once a human himself. He was well aware of everything that could go wrong with the human body. Plus he deeply cared for his daughter in law. Jake consulted with Norm regularly regarding his findings.

The Olo'eyktan thought it’d be best if he was one of the first to find out. That way he would be able to explain it to his family better. He was by no means a doctor but he knew his son would trust his words more than Norm’s.

He could see the way Neteyam looked like his was close to having a melt down. He had a forced calmness about him. As if he was in complete denial that something might be wrong. Because he was. If he refused to acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be real.

"Leukemia." Norm spoke like that one simple word explained everything. Jake's breath caught in his throat at the word. Neteyam stood head moving back and forth between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.

His heart hammered in his chest as they spoke words that meant nothing to him. Human words he didn't know. "How long?" His father asked quietly.

"It's progressed rather quickly. She had been exhibiting symptoms for a few months now. It's hard to say how long she's had it."

Neteyam knew they were talking about you. Dread filled him and he felt sick to his stomach. The feeling of being left in the dark was too much for him, he felt like he could scream.

"How long does she have?" Jake asked again eyes screwed onto Norm. He spoke hushed this time. Jake wasn't a fool. He was well aware of his son's feelings towards you. In fact, the whole clan knew.

How long does she have? The words echoed in Neteyam's brain. Repeating over and over again. They couldn't be talking about your life could they? You were just a little sick, you had said so yourself. This couldn't be real he refused to believe it.

"I've estimated three years." Max spoke up. "She has a thirty percent chance."

Thirty. That was low wasn't it? There was no possible way you'd have such a low chance. The science geeks were the best of the best. You'd also have access to the remedies of the Na'vi. Most importantly you'd have Neteyam. He made a vow to take care of and protect you. He indented to keep that vow.

"What are her opinions? What can we do?" Jake needed all the information he could get if he was going to have to explain this to his son.

"Chemo would be the next step. It's going to be hard, she's already so weak. It's going to take a lot out of her."

Jake glanced over at his son. Neteyam looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Hell, he was on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes were wide as he stared at his father, pleading for an answer.

Jake sighed, "Would she have a better chance back on Earth? Can we even give her proper care here?"

Earth? You couldn't go to earth. Neteyam refused to allow it. If you left he'd never see you again. He wouldn't be able to care for you while you're sick. He also wouldn't know how you were doing - he wouldn't know if you were still breathing or not.

His mouth hung open as his brain tried to register this. "She can't go to earth dad." He said just above a whisper. "She can't go!" He said again this time yelling desperately at his father.

"Calm down boy." Jake hushed him placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let them speak."

"She's not going anywhere." Norm said trying to choose his words carefully. "Her immune system is weak right now. I don't think she would survive the trip. I think it's best to treat her here with what we have available."

Tears stung Neteyam's eyes as he stared at the ground. You were so sick you wouldn't survive the trip to earth. Would you even survive here? He came to the horrific realization that you were sick and you might be dying.

"She's strong though." Jake said more so to his son. "She can fight this."

Max and Norm looked at each other with sad smiles. Neither doubted your strength, you were one of the strongest people they knew. But this was different. They had to entertain the possibility that even if you fight with your all you could lose. They also knew that they didn't have everything needed to properly treat you. But for the sake of the broken boy in front of them they left that part out.

Staying positive was hard but you gave it your best try. You felt weak but it wasn’t insufferable yet. The worst part of it was you couldn’t go out exploring like you were accustomed to.

Your friends made sure to keep you company. Your room become the unofficial official hangout spot. Lo’ak and Spider would play games with you, Kiri kept you up to date on all of the gossip in the village, Tuk insisted that the two of you color, and Neteyam? Neteyam never left your side.

He was there not long after your woke up and often times he stayed the night. Neteyam never wanted to leave your side, wanting to make sure you were cared for in any way possible. He would be there every step of the way.

When it was time for chemo you felt extremely anxious. As Norm prepared the IV Neteyam eyed the needle untrustworthily. You winced as it went into your arm. Neteyam hissed ready to throw Norm across the room for causing you pain.

Norm panicked and you quickly explained to Neteyam that it was okay. It only hurt for a few minutes. You had to deal with it. You needed the treatment to get better.

Neteyam cuddled up next to you holding your hand. He tried to do things to distract you from it. The pair of you would watch movies from back on earth. You taught him how to play uno. He could never beat you and it frustrated him to no end. He was close to throwing his cards in anger. Seeing him be such a sore looser made you laugh.

Neteyam loved your laugh. He didn’t hear it much anymore so it was his life’s mission to make you laugh as much as he could.

He believed you’d make a full recovery. This was simply a bump in the road.

"Please don't let him in." You pleaded with Spider. "I don't want him to see me like this." Tears were stinging your eyes now.

Spider looked sympathetically at you. You tried so hard to be strong for everyone but it was wearing down on you. This was effecting you worse than you thought it would. All you wanted to sulk in your room by yourself.

"He's freaking out Y/N. I'm afraid he's gonna start breaking stuff." He chuckled. Gently placing his hand on your shoulder his concerned look returned. "He cares about you. A lot. He just wants to make sure you're okay."

Nodding your head you wiped your face with your hands. You didn't want him to see that you had been crying. "Okay. Let him in."

Spider went off to find Neteyam it didn't take him too long thanks to the commotion he was causing. "You cannot keep me here!" Neteyam bellowed.

He tried to moved around the crowd of scientists who were attempting to keep him back. Neteyam growled in frustration. "Y/N is my mate you cannot keep me from her."

"Bro, calm down!" Spider yelled as Neteyam went to throw something off of a desk. He stopped as soon as he heard Spider. Neteyam's shoulders relaxed slightly at the familiar face.

"They are trying to keep me away." He snapped.

"Yeah I can see that." Spider huffed. "If you're done with your temper tantrum Y/N is ready to see you."

Raising his head high Neteyam walked past the scientists smugly. When out of earshot he bent down to Spider "They said Y/N did not want to see me." His face etched with worry.

Sighing Spider ran his hand over his face. "She's upset right now. It's not my place to say. She needs to be the one to tell you. But she's upset and embarrassed right now. She didn't want you to see her like that."

Neteyam's heart clenched at his words. The thought of you being so upset that you didn't want to see him crushed him. Walking into your room he was preparing for the worst.

You were sitting in your bed with your hands folded in your lap. Staring down you were avoiding his gaze.

He looked you up and down to see if their was any visible signs of what was wrong. If there was a problem Neteyam wanted to attack it head on. Your sickness wasn't like that though. He had to sit and watch helplessly as you suffered. It consumed him to the point he lived in constant agony.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Except your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying. You were crying. Why were you crying? Neteyam's protective side took the forefront once again, ready to crush whatever had upset you.

Rushing to your side he cupped your cheek with his hand. "Ma'love what's wrong?" Worried etched on his face.

"You can have these back. I don't need them anymore." You sniffed. Your closed hands reached out to his. Opening your hands you gently poured the contents into his.

Neteyam stilled as his beads spilled into his hands. They were the beads he had given to you. He loved seeing you proudly wearing them in your hair, letting everyone see you were his.

"You don't want them anymore?" He softly asked. It felt like a punch to the gut. It was as if you were rejecting him.

"I won't be able to wear them anymore Neteyam." Meeting his gaze your heart broke seeing his face. He didn't understand why you were returning his gift to you.

"My hair is falling out Neteyam." You sighed.

"I do not understand." His brow furrowed trying to put the pieces together.

"The chemo- the medicine makes my hair fall out." You tried to explain.

Spider walked over and put his hand on your shoulder for support. He viewed you as his little sister. It hurt him to see you suffering like this.

Neteyam didn't understand how this medicine was helping you if it was making it so hard on you. Human medicine was more complicated than the Na'vi remedies he was used to.

You knew that he was genuinely curious and just trying to understand but you were tired if talking about it. You knew you would eventually lose your hair but you thought you could handle it.

Everything was too much. You hadn't really felt sick until now. When you noticed your hair coming out in clumps it all became real. You were sick.

Spider found you in a fit of sobs. It broke his heart to see you like that. It also sent him into a panic. He didn't know what to do to make you feel better. He was your big brother, he was supposed to know everything.

"Norm gave me this." Sighing you pulled out hair clippers. "He said it might be easier to just go ahead and shave my head." Tears stung your eyes again. "I just don't know if I can."

Without thinking Spider took the clippers from you. "I'll go first." He declared.

Eyes widening in panic you tried to stop him. "Wait Spider! You don't have to do that." Before you could get another word out he turned them on and quickly swiped along the top of his head.

You and Neteyam stared at him with wide eyes. Dumbfounded you couldn't believe your brother just did that. He did it for you. You couldn't help the small smile that formed. Knowing that your brother loved you that much made your heart swell.

"Are you guys just gonna stare at me or are you gonna help me finish this up?" Spider asked with a smirk.

Once finished Spider was almost unrecognizable. "I can't believe you did that." You mumble as he helped you with your hair.

"It's not a big deal." He shrugged. "It was weighing me down anyways. I'll be faster now."

You rolled your eyes at your brother's odd logic. Neteyam was holding onto your hand watching Spider like a hawk. The idea of taking a blade to your head terrified him even though you assured him it was safe.

Gently you squeezed his hand. “I’m okay.” You assured him. He nodded bringing your hand up to his lips, tenderly kissing your knuckles. “I love you.” His whispered lips still pressed to your fingers.

Usually you stuck to the Na’vi terms of affection. It was what Neteyam was comfortable with. But after learning what the human phrase meant he had to use it. Because it was true. He loved you with every fiber of his being.

Tugging his hand to your lips you gave his knuckles a matching kiss. “I love you too. So so much.”

“Come on guys knock it off.” Spider complained pretending to be sick. As much as your constant shows of affection annoyed him he was glad you found someone who truly loved you.

The next day Neteyam came to visit you with his hands behind his back. You eyed him suspiciously, he was never good at keeping secrets from you.

“I made this for you last night.” He gently placed a bracelet in your lap. You gasped when you realized it was made of the beads he had originally given you for your hair.

“You said you couldn’t wear them anymore and now that’s not true.”

Carefully you put the bracelet on. Heart bursting at the sweet gesture tears began to spill from your eyes. Neteyam started to panic thinking be did something wrong.

“You are not happy with it?” He asked defeated. “You are crying.”

“Yes but they’re happy tears. I love it Neteyam. I love you.” You threw your arms around his neck. Smiling he pulled you closer into his chest.

“Oel ngati kameie.” He whispered into your neck.

“I see you Ma’Teyam.”

"I'm dying Neteyam." You said without any hesitation or emotion.

Neteyam immediately sat up looking to you slightly begging that he heard you wrong. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

"No one's told you because they're afraid of how you'll react. I don't want to keep anything from you. Love you too much to do that." Your eyes met his through your mask. He felt his heart breaking not only from your words but your eyes. They were faded, lacking the light he loved so much.

"They didn't want to tell me either." Your hoarse voice kept on. "But it's hard to pull a fast one over on me when I'm like this." Chuckling at yourself Neteyam caught a glimpse of you. The real you. Not this pitiful shell of who you once were.

"The treatment stopped working months ago. They told me last week."

Bringing your hand to his mouth he gently kissed your knuckles. "Please do not say such things." His voice cracked. Tears were now freely flowing from his eyes.

Deep down in his heart he knew he was losing you. He just didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. Acknowledging it made it feel real and there was no way this was real. It had to be a cruel nightmare.

"I'm tired Neteyam." You spoke quietly.

Unsure of what you meant he was ready to scoop you up and tuck you into bed. Somehow you had convinced him to go star gazing tonight. It had seemed like the perfect date night idea since you were always cooped up in your room. But now he kicked himself for allowing you to leave.

"Let's get you back then," he started shuffling."

"No Neteyam." You interrupted him stopping him in his tracks. "I'm tired of this." You gestured to yourself. "I'm tired of treatments that aren't working. Tired of being stuck in my room all day. Im tired of it all." You sighed.

"This isn't living Neteyam. It's waiting to die." Meeting his eyes your heart sank. He was finally registering your words. Neteyam looked at you like you had just pierced his heart with an arrow. "I'm tired of waiting."

You had been battling this for over a year now. It had taken its toll on you physically and emotionally. You didn’t know how much longer you could go on like this.

"What are you saying Y/N?" He asked trying his best to stay calm but miserably failing. His hands were shaking and his heart quickened.

"I asked Norm and Max about how I could speed it up."

Neteyam heard his heart shatter into a million pieces. You wanted to end your life. You wanted to leave him. You couldn't possibly want to leave him could you?

Tears were freely falling from his eyes. His body started to shake fighting off sobs.

"I'm not getting any better Neteyam." You gently placed your hand on his cheek wiping away his tears with your thumb.

This wasn't what you wanted but you saw no other way. Everyday was a struggle, even breathing hurt. You wanted Neteyam to see what you already accepted. This was a waiting game. You were never going to recover.

"No." He violently shook his head holding you to his chest. "No. You'll get better. We just need to try something else. Please." He begged.

"Ma'Teyam there's nothing left to try."

"Please. You can't leave me." His body shook with sobs. "I can't lose you Ma'Y/N."

You couldn't fight back your own tears. Your mask was fogging as you started to cry. Seeing your mate like this was as painful as your sickness.

"You're not gonna lose me love. Nothing is ever lost, remember?" You tried your best to comfort him.

"There has to be something we can try." He sobbed. "What about an avatar?"

You held his head in your chest while he cried. "They can't make anymore avatars. You know that."

"I can't do this without you. There has to be something." Neteyam wailed.

The sight broke your heart. You had exhausted all of your options. Everyone but Neteyam seemed to recognize it.

"I won't do anything without your blessing Ma'Teyam." You gently caressed his head. "But please try to understand my point of view."

"You cannot ask this of me. I can't." He shook his head.

Gently rocking you soothed the boy in your arms. He had a vice like grip on you as if you'd vanish into thin air. "It'll okay Ma'Teyam." You cooed.

You had informed Norm and Max of your plan. It broke their heart but they acknowledged that it was your decision. They would respect your wishes.

Norm found himself in your room in the middle of the night watching you sleep. It pained him to see your labored breaths. You were always so fill of light and now you looked like a hollow shell.

He'd known you your whole life. It broke his heart to know that your time was running out. It seemed like just yesterday you were a bubbly toddler getting into trouble in the lab.

You told Jake and Neytiri next. For some reason you were terrified of what your in laws would think of you. While this was something common amongst humans it was very rare to the Na'vi.

Jake was once human though. It hurt his heart to see that it came to this but he understood. While his disability wasn't terminal he knew the feeling of hopelessness. The feeling of being trapped inside what once was you. Your body becoming a prison. Jake knew better than anyone.

Neytiri didn't understand why you wished this until she saw you. She couldn't contain her gasp. No longer the child she has grown to care for, you were someone she didn’t recognize.

Smiling weakly at her Neytiri’s heart broke for you. She could see that you were dying but she couldn’t understand why. It was the great mother’s will that you would stay with Neteyam. Why would she allow you to die so soon?

Then it hit her. The words of her mother. You would spend the rest of your life beside Neteyam. Your life would end before his. Seeing you like this made her realize why you wanted this. You weren’t yourself, you were tapped inside a body that was failing you.

Spider was unusually quiet when you told him. “Spider please say something.” You pleaded.

He knew it was coming. He’d be a fool not to. But he was like everyone else who loved you, he didn’t want to believe it was happening. All of his earliest memories included you. You may have only been siblings because of circumstance but he loved you like you were blood.

You were undoubtedly his sister. Always there for him for as long as he could remember. Someone who always had his back. You understood the feeling of being abandoned here and the longing of wanting more. You were his person. And now you weren’t going to be here anymore.

Spider stood up and hugged you. He was slightly crying into your shoulder. You had never seen your big brother cry. He was your rock always strong and dependable.

“I’m sorry Spider.” You cried with him.

“Hey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Don’t ever be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

Nodding through your tears you took in the sight of him. His hair was growing back so fast leaving him with a nice short cut.

“You know I love you right?” He asked unsure for a moment. He had to make sure you knew. Spider wouldn’t be able to live with himself If you didn’t.

“Of course. I love you too bro.”

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking about everything and nothing all at once. It would be one of the last times you got to.

When it came to telling Neteyam he already knew. Your confirmation was like stones in his heart. But he knew. Deep down he always knew. You were never getting better.

Being cooped up in your room wasn't much of a life. You were in pain and it pained him to witness it. Neteyam never wished to part from you but this wasn't his choice to make.

He knew that had there been any other way you wouldn't had made the choice either.

You wanted one last day. One last good day.

Looking at your room one last time you shut the door. You had breakfast with Norm and Spider just like you always did growing up. Max even joined you.

No one talked about what was to come. You forbid any talk of the future only wanted to live in the here and now.

Spider helped you put on your mask and the two of you slowly made your way to the village. He helped you into the Sully home. You were terrified of everyone being somber, but to your delight everyone acted as normal.

You hadn’t laughed this much in months watching Spider reenact a story of one of the many times Lo’ak almost got himself killed.

Laughter, hugs, and smiles was how you spent your time with the Sully’s. It was perfect just like it always was. Neteyam kept you sat on his lap not wanting to lose contact for a second.

Taking a deep breath he inhaled your scent. It had changed when you got sick. It didn’t smell like you. It made him frown.

Insisting on going on an Ikran ride you drug Neteyam out of his family’s tent. Neytiri stopped you before you got too far. Embracing you one last time. “Thank you for watching over him my child.” Before you could say a word she kissed your forehead and left you with watery eyes.

Neteyam didn’t want to focus on sadness right now. You were still here that’s all that mattered. Taking your hand once again you were greeted with his Ikran.

“You sure you feel up to this?” He checked in.

“Hell yeah.” You smirked at him.

Flying through air was a feeling you’d never get used to. Up there you were truly free. Sticking your arms out to intensify the feeling Neteyam cursed at your sudden movement. His grip tightening around you.

“Let me know before you do something like that.” He scolded.

“You worry too much!” You yelled over the wind. “You’ve taken me on a million rides and haven’t dropped me yet.”

Neteyam smiled at you. Today you were glowing with a glimpse of yourself. Not the person who had been while sick. The real you. It made his heart clench. It pained him but he knew you were right. This was the right choice.

He would rather see you like this than just slowly waste away to nothing. I wanna go out with a bang. You had told him.

Eclipse crept up on the couple as you laid on the ground tangled up in each other. "I love you so much." You told him tears threatening to spill. He kissed your knuckles. "I love you to the moon and back." He whispered.

Smiling fondly at the memory from what felt like an entirety ago. "I can't believe you remember that." You laughed.

He chuckled. Neteyam had spent years committing every part of you to memory. He found your surprise amusing. Of course he’d remember. He remembered it all.

You stayed in his embrace until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. "I'm ready Neteyam." You breathed.

He nodded blinking back tears. "I see you Ma'Y/N." He gently caressed your face the best he could.

"I see you Ma'Teyam." You grabbed his hand. "Don't worry I'll see you again. Take your time my love."

"Anything for you my moon." He smiled.

As gently as he could he removed your mask. Taking a deep breath in you smiled as you inhaled the scents of the forest. It smelt even better than you imagined.

Neteyam laid next to you holding your hand looking up to the sky. You admired the stars before glancing over at Neteyam. He met your eyes and smiled. Your breathes were started to become labored. "It's okay love. You can rest now." He said fighting back a sob.

Your vision was turning black around the edges. Neteyam was talking to you but you couldn’t register what he was saying. Slowly your eyes closed. Your chest stopped. Just like that you were gone.

This was exactly how you asked. Neteyam fulfilled every last one of your wishes even if it killed him inside. Your whole life you wanted nothing more than to experience Pandora without any restrictions. And in that brief moment you did.

Neteyam held onto your lifeless body as he sobbed. He knew it was happening but nothing would prepare him for the feeling of you actually being gone.

His love. His mate. His best friend. His moon and stars. Gone forever. You were gone and there was nothing he could do to bring you back.

His body shook as he wailed. Neteyam realized that because you were human you were never connected to the spirit tree. He would never be able to see you again. He would never see you again.

Neteyam spent the whole night grieving you. He knew it was just the beginning of many sleepless nights crying for you.

In the morning he carried you back to home tree. Neteyam insisted that you have a traditional Na’vi burial. It didn’t take much convincing as everyone adored you.

His family helped prepare your body. He begged for help not thinking he was strong enough to do it on his own. Once everything was finished they gave him a moment alone. Spider looked up at him with red puffy eyes giving him a pat on the back.

Neteyam spent his last moment with you whispering sweet nothings that you would never hear. Confessions of love that wouldn’t reach your ears.

The last time Neteyam saw you, you were lowered into the ground. He tried to stay collected not wanting his people to see him weak. But this was unbearable.

After the funeral his grandmother approached him. Pulling him in for a rare hug she caressed his head Lovingly. “She is with Eywa now.” She told him.

He looked up at her in shock. You were a human. Neteyam didn’t think it was possible for a sky person to be with Eywa.

“She is?” He asked breathless.

Mo’at simply nodded before leaving him. Neteyam took a moment to process this revelation. A gentle breeze blew through his hair. Taking a deep breath he tried to ground himself.

A delicate tap on his shoulder caused him to open his eyes. A single atokirina' had landed on him. It gently swayed around him. He cupped the spirit his hands smiling, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You were still here. There is no death. Only change.

7K notes · View notes

harryistheonlyoneforme · 10 months

Note

More CEORRY smut pls! He’s so HAWT🥵🥵

Got Me Right Where You Want Me*

warnings: smut, swearing, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding, exhibitionism

summary: YN and Harry spend a day on the golf course together, but she won’t make it easy for him

pairing: ceo harry x reader

wc: 5.4k

masterlist | harry styles masterlist | requests open

a/n: i’ve decided i’m gonna try and post a oneshot every friday (key word is TRY😭) and i’ll probably do blurbs in between

Fresh out of the shower with wet hair and a towel around his waist, Harry steps into his and YN’s shared bedroom, humming the tune of the song he’d been listening to. His eyes instantly travel to his wife, who is freshly showered as well, still sitting in the exact same spot she was in when he went to shower. He rolls his eyes fondly as he watched her scroll through her emails with just a towel around her, the cutest look of concentration adorning her face.

Making his way to her, he sits down next to her, and she looks up at him with a soft smile. Returning her smile, he leans forward and presses his lips to hers sweetly. She melts into him and frowns when they pull away, making him chuckle at her.

“Do you want to come with me to the course today?” he questions, standing from the bed and heading to the closet. YN is slightly confused, as he’s never asked her to accompany him before.

“I mean, of course, but what’s the occasion?“ she asks, standing up as well and heading to her side of the closet. Her eyes skim over her clothes as she awaits his answer, a sigh leaving her when she realizes she’d left her white tennis skirt at their London home the last time they visited.

“Just miss you,” he responds, sitting down on his ottoman to pull his shirt over his head. “Been busy all week and we haven’t really had any time together,” he finishes timidly, making YN laugh quietly at him.

Walking over to him, she leans over him and places her hands on his chest. “We’ve been together for ten years and you’re still afraid to admit you love me?” she questions. “I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of me or something,” she teases, heading back to her space to find an outfit.

Harry tuts at her, a frown tugging at his lips. “Oh, shut the fuck up. You know m’not ashamed of you. Never have been, never could be,” he retorts, pulling his pants up before sliding his feet into his shoes.

She laughs heartily at her husband, sitting down to start moisturizing her skin. “Yeah, I bet you can’t be. Especially not when you cried like a baby at our wedding in front of all your tough guy friends,” she teases, making him scoff in mock offence.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he laughs, pushing her shoulder playfully before standing up to loop his belt into his pants. “I still think you’re the one who leaked those pictures,” he mutters, making her double over in laughter at the memory behind the accusation.

He makes his way from the closet with a dimpled grin on his face, headed to the garage to get his clubs. “I’m ready whenever you are, gonna be in the Range Rover,” he calls, and she nods in agreement although he can’t see her.

Standing back up, she skims her closet once more, dragging her finger along each item of clothing as she tries to decide what to wear. She knows it’s nearly 100°F in LA, so she needs something that’ll keep her cool.

Her eyes land on a purple, thin, tennis dress, and her face lights up as it’s absolutely perfect. It matches Harry’s shirt almost perfectly, and it’s thin enough to keep her cool out in the summer heat.

Taking it off the hanger, she smiles as she notices just how short it is, and knowing that it will be even shorter once it’s on her body. She slides on a decides against a bra, knowing it’ll be uncomfortable in the material and she can use it to her advantage anyways.

She immediately slips the dress over her head before deciding on some plain white sneakers and putting on some jewelry and perfume before heading out of the closet and down to the car where Harry is waiting for her.

In no rush at all, she takes her time and makes her way down to the garage, anticipating Harry’s reaction. She closes the door behind her and slips into the car without a word, buckling her seatbelt.

Harry’s eyes are practically burning her skin with how hard he’s staring, and she doesn’t even have to look at him to know that his eyes are bulging out of his head.

Turning to look at him, she puts on a look of faux confusion as she eyes him. “Are you okay?” she questions innocently, placing her arm on his bicep.

Her touch seems to snap him out of the trance, and he clears his throat with a small nod before pulling out of the garage and heading down the road. A small smirk plays on YN’s lips as they make the drive there, loving how fidgety Harry is beside her. She can clearly see his jaw clench every time he spares her a glance before swallowing thickly, his Adam’s Apple straining against the skin of his throat.

When the two are sat at a red light, YN decides to take it a step further. Reaching over, she places a hand on his thigh and feels the thick muscle twitch beneath her palm. Harry glares at her for a split second before the light turns green, his eyes snapping back to the road ahead.

A sigh of relief passes through his lips when he sees the familiar greenery of their country club’s golf course, ready to get out of the car that’s so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife. He practically speeds into his reserved parking spot, throwing the car in park and leaning back to rest against the seat.

Still smirking, YN moves her hand from his thigh to the very prominent bulge in his slacks, grazing it gently. She’s filled with satisfaction when he inhales sharply and cuts his eyes to hers in anger.

Before he can retaliate, she’s slipping out of the car quickly, and he’s not even a little bit surprised when she ‘drops’ her visor on the ground outside the car only to bend down to pick it up.

His eyes are bulging out of his head once again as he has a full view of her barely covered ass, making him stifle a groan. He can’t even form any words to speak, not that he’d get a word in anyways as she closes the door and heads into the building, a smug smile on her face.

In the car, Harry’s mouth is agape as he recalls each event he’s gone through since he stepped out of his shower, palming his cock as he realizes her game. He’s so hard it hurts, but he tries his best to will the boner away, all while coming up with a plan to even the score.

Rolling her eyes in frustration, YN flips Harry the middle finger as he turns to look at her, a dimpled smile on his face. Sweat is glistening on his forehead, dripping down the side of his face in the humid LA heat, and YN is damn near dripping down her thighs as she watches him play.

Ever since Harry set foot into the country club with a dimpled grin on his face, YN knew she’d fucked up by teasing him the way she did. No matter how nervous she gets, though, she refuses to show it.

With each precise swing of his favourite club, Harry makes sure to flex his muscles extra hard, and groans extra loud when the ball doesn’t go as far as he’d like.

After each of these, he cuts his eyes to his wife who is trying to act like it’s not affecting her, but he can see through her tough act. Just the thought of her dripping into her panties but acting like she isn’t has his knees weak.

About three holes in, Harry decides to take a break and go inside the club for some much needed air. He hops onto his reserved golf cart beside his wife and leans over to give her a peck on the lips before driving toward the building.

His smirk is still very evident when he places his free hand on her thigh that’s closest to him, and YN thinks nothing of it as it is a normal gesture. When he moves his hand up higher to the bottom of her dress, her breath hitches and she whips her head to look at him as she realizes what he’s doing.

“You’re not funny, H,” she hisses, a scowl on her face as his fingers touch the crevice where her thigh and pelvis meet.

Harry scoffs out a sarcastic laugh at her comment before he speaks up. “Yeah, but it was funny when you did it, hm?” he retorts, making the sharp turn that leads them to the concrete road. The movement makes his hand graze right over her pussy, and the both of them gasp quietly at the feeling.

Smirking, Harry turns his head to her for a split second. “It’s not funny. I see,” he mutters. “‘s not funny because you’re dripping into your panties and you want me to do something about it, right?” he questions, pulling into the parking spot and killing the engine.

He doesn’t even give her time to answer before he’s pushing down right where her clit is, making her choke out a moan.

Just as she starts to buck her hips into his hand, he pulls away, laughing loudly as she whines in frustration. “Should’ve thought about that before you started this, Pet,” he teases, waiting for her to climb out of the cart and head inside.

He reaches his hand out for hers, but she angrily stoops past him, upset that he’s beat her at her own game. The action makes him laugh even harder, shaking his head at his prideful wife.

Once inside the club, Harry gruffly greets everyone he knows, ignoring the ogling women around him. He truly only has eyes for his wife, not even bothering to look their way. Each woman has their eyes on him as he steps in, confused as to why he stood waiting by the entrance.

All of their confusion quickly moulds into jealousy as they see a beautiful woman enter the building, a pretty dress on that is the same colour as Harry’s shirt. They each take note of how he smiles softly at her and wraps his arm around her waist to keep her close, a stark contrast to the way he interacts with others.

The club is silent as the two make their way to the bar, watching the way his arm never leaves her body. No one has ever seen YN, let alone the way he treats her differently than everyone else.

The two of them just end up getting waters, parched from the heat. Despite the fact that water is free there, Harry makes sure to slap two $100 bills onto the counter once they receive their drinks.

It’s no longer silent in the club, the onlookers going back about their day as the two are literally just drinking water. Once the two are all refreshed from the cold drinks, Harry places a ringed hand on YN’s thigh once again, making her jump slightly at the coldness of his palm.

She has to stifle a groan when he picks up where he left off earlier, toying with the edge of her panties before pulling them to the side and swiping a finger through her folds. The action has her eyes rolling into her head when he grazes her sensitive clit, and then he just pulls away.

YN groans in frustration at the teasing, leaning up to whisper in his ear angrily. “Okay, it’s not fucking funny anymore,” she grits out, making Harry’s eyes widen slightly in shock. “If you aren’t going to fuck me then stop fucking touching me,” she finishes, sitting up straight once more.

Turning her head, she looks at her husband and immediately knows she fucked up. His eyes have darkened and his jaw is clenched. Unsurprisingly, the sight only turns her on even more, and she has to squeeze her thighs together to try and relieve some of the throbbing between her legs.

“In the fucking bathroom. I want you bent over the sink with y’panties down,” he demands, pinching her clit slightly and making her whimper at the slight pain that shoots up her spine. “And don’t even think about touching yourself. You’re already in trouble,” he warns, snapping her panties back into place and taking another drink of his water.

She practically scrambles as she hurries to the family bathroom, doing as he says and hoping that no one comes in and sees her exposed this way.

It’s definitely been over ten minutes by the time she’s getting so desperate she can barely wait, and then the door swings open, making her tense. She hears a familiar hum of satisfaction from behind her, and she relaxes as it’s only her husband.

Closing the door behind him, he doesn’t take his eyes off of where she’s dripping for him, watching as a bit of her slick trails down her thighs with how desperate she is.

Stepping up behind her, he swipes a finger over the skin of her thigh and collects some of her arousal before bringing it to his lips. Looking up into the mirror, he finds her eyes as he brings his finger to his mouth.

Moaning at the taste, he watches as YN squirms in discomfort as he pussy throbs at the sight. No more words are exchanged as Harry unbuttons his pants and takes his cock out before using his palm to clean up some of her arousal.

YN is confused for a moment, but it doesn’t last long at all as she watches him wrap his hand around his cock and start to stroke it with her stick.

He groans in pleasure as she whines at the sight, unsure how much more she can take. “Please fuck me. Swear I’ll be good, Daddy. Just please,” she begs, finding his eyes in the mirror.

“Mm, I don’t know, pet,” he tsks, stepping forward and moving the head of his cock through he swollen folds. “You haven’t been on your best behaviour today, so I’m not sure if you deserve it,” he hums in faux thoughtfulness.

She’s near tears at this point, just desperate to feel him deep inside of her and stretching her out. “I swear I do, I didn’t meant it,” her eyes are still boring into his. “I’ll be such a good girl, just-,” she’s immediately cut off with a gasp that melts into a moan, as Harry decided to push his cock into her in one quick thrust.

Her hands are gripping the counter tightly as he bottoms out, her jaw dropped as she hears him groan behind her. She’s so fucking full of him, feeling each ridge and vein of his cock grazing her sensitive walls.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Daddy,” she babbles, feeling the head of his cock pressed slightly against her cervix.

The slight pain has her head spinning, and he’s just pressed up against her as he lets her adjust. When she’s fully relaxed, she gives him a slight nod of permission to begin thrusting into her.

Harry wastes absolutely no time, pulling out until only the tip of him is resting inside of her before slamming back into her and burying himself to the hilt.

The force of the thrust sends her flying forward, a choked moan falling from her lips at the feeling. He repeats the action over and over, and she’s sure she’ll have bruises on her torso in the morning from how rough it is. But she wouldn’t change it, not at all. Especially not with the way he’s making her feel so good she can barely form a coherent sentence.

Cries and moans are accompanied by the sound of Harry’s hips hitting her ass with each thrust, giving everyone outside a mental image of exactly what’s going on behind the bathroom doors.

That thought doesn’t stop him, though. If anything, it gave him the motivation to keep up the pace, absolutely wrecking his wife. His fingers are digging into her hips as he pulls her back to meet each thrust as well as keeping her stable.

Removing one hand from her hip, he brings it down onto her backside harshly, listening to her cry out and feeling her clench around him. “Gonna cum?” he questions, watching as she squeezes her eyes shut and nods, ready to cum then and there.

Just as she’s about to fall over the edge, though, she feels her orgasm slipping away and she’s empty as Harry pulls out of her, stroking his cock furiously before sliding the tip back into her at the last moment and cumming inside her contracting walls with a throaty groan.

She whines in frustration, slamming her hand down onto the counter as she squeezes her shaking thighs together for some sort of stimulation.

She looks up at him questioningly, the sadness on her face almost making him feel bad. Almost. The remorse is quickly turned back into arousal as he sees his cum leaking from her and down her thighs a bit.

“Fuck,” he pants, tucking his cock back into his slacks. “I should make you sit out there in a puddle of my cum but I need you home so I can really take you,” he spits before spanking her ass once more.

She moans deeply at the sharp sting as he rubs the sore spot before pulling her panties back up. “Cmon, let’s get to the car,” he tells her, and she instantly obliges.

The two walk back out into the main area, ignoring the shocked looks of the other members as it’s very obvious what they were doing in the bathroom.

Once they’re back in the car, YN is still very angry at her mean husband, but at the same time she knows she deserved it for being a brat. She just didn’t think he’d deny her of an orgasm.

The radio is on in the car, and it’s the only sound they can hear beside the engine. YN’s arms are folded neatly in her lap as she tries to avoid more punishment, already knowing he’s angry.

“Pull y’panties down,” he demands suddenly, making YN look at him in shock before immediately doing what he requested as she takes in the firm look on his face. “Rub your clit a little. Just real soft and slow,” he tells her, eyeing her as she places one leg on the dashboard and passes him the panties.

She wastes absolutely no more time, bringing two fingers between her messy folds and then up to her swollen clit before rubbing slowly and softly, just as he’d told her to. The stimulation feels so good, and she squeezes her eyes shut and throws her head back against the seat as she tries not to speed her hand up.

“Would y’look at that,” he muses, basking in the sound of her breathy whines as he watches her tease herself. “Y’panties are all ruined, poor thing,” he smirks.

She cries out in frustration and pleasure as she circles her clit again, the slow torture only making her angry.

He hums in faux sympathy, looking over at her for a brief second. “Do y’need Daddy to take care of you?” he questions, smiling softly as she nods furiously. “Oh, Pet,” he tsks. “Should’ve thought about that, hm?” he continues. “Slap y’cunt five times. Hard. Then put your legs back down,” he finishes, making her groan at the demand.

She follows his orders immediately, the stinging pain of the slaps making her jump and cry out in pain. She doesn’t let up, though, finishing up the request before closing her legs tightly and fixing her dress once more.

Harry gives her a towel to clean his cum from her hand before they continue the drive in silence, YN anticipating what’s to come.

By the time they arrive at home, nervous isn’t the word to describe what YN is feeling, not in the slightest. She’s kind of shaky, but Harry places a warm hand on her thigh and calms her down, his gentle touch letting her know that there’s nothing to worry about. He will always take care of her.

Stepping out of the car with her panties in pocket, Harry walks around to the passenger door and helps her out, letting her go in front of him to punch in the code to get into their home.

He closes the door gently, taking his shoes off as she does the same. “You can take a seat on the couch, I’ll be back down after I take a shower,” he tells her before pressing a passionate kiss to her lips. Yet another gesture to let her know he isn’t too angry anymore.

She nods and does as he says, just scrolling on her phone for a few minutes until she hears a knock on the front door. Confusion fills her, she’s not expecting anyone and she hopes Harry isn’t at a time like this.

Opening the door, YN is honestly saddened to see Niall, Harry’s best friend, on the other side of the door in some casual clothing.

Leaning down to give her a hug, he places a friendly kiss on YN’s forehead as she invites him in. He starts to slip his shoes from his feet, making YN frown and groan under her breath.

“Hey, YN. I hope you guys don’t mind I came over. My girlfriend and her friends are having a girls day so I’m gonna bother you two for a couple hours,” he tells her, making his way to the couch and sitting down exactly where YN had been sat just moments before.

“No, no! Don’t-“ YN tries to warn him, but he’s already sat there and getting comfortable, turning on the television in front of him.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “It’ll be like I’m not even here,” he finishes.

“Alright,” YN sighs, still standing near the couch. “Do you want a drink or something?” she questions, and he shakes his head.

“No, you just go about whatever you were doing. Thanks,” he smiles, turning back to the television.

“I fucking wish,” YN mutters, headed to the kitchen to get a drink. She rests at the counter with her elbows against it, completely forgetting about how she was pantiless and still dripping with her husband’s cum. Not long after, she feels a presence behind her, making her jump in fear.

“Shh, it’s just me,” Harry chuckles, making her relax. She takes in the scent of his body wash and shampoo, seeing his wet hair before noticing that he’s only dressed in a towel.

“Come upstairs with me. Gonna take care of you, okay?” he tells her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and then repeating the action all the way up her neck, making her whine and squirm.

“We can’t, Niall is here,” she grumbles, and he gives her a look that shows he clearly doesn’t care.

“I know, I saw him come in on the doorbell camera,” he answers. “Just gonna have to be a little quieter than normal, can you handle that?” he asks her, laughing as she nods quickly.

Grabbing her hand, he pulls her with him as he quietly runs up the stairs and into their bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them.

“On y’back. Need to eat your cunt before anything else,” he tells her, and she immediately scrambled to do so, desperate to feel him on her in any way she can.

He climbs on the bed after her and spreads her legs, eyeing her messy cunt before him. He’s rock hard by now, his cock throbbing and aching as he needs to be inside her again and feel her cum around his cock.

Lying down on his stomach, he wastes no time, diving in immediately and swiping his tongue through her dripping folds. Both of them groan at that, YN from the feeling and Harry from the taste of his cum on her.

He closes his eyes and works on her, not letting up for even a second as she pants heavily above him. He’s so hard that he subconsciously starts grinding into the duvet, chasing an orgasm as well.

The towel is still wrapped around his waist, the semi rough fibres grazing his sensitive cock perfectly with each push of his hips into the bedding. The feeling makes him groan against her, only pushing her closer to her orgasm.

“Please, can I cum?” she cries out quietly, reaching down and pushing his head tighter to her. He hums and tries his best to nod, giving her permission to finally cum.

She cums then and there, and it’s so hard she has to squeeze her eyes shut and turn her head to bite down onto the pillow beneath her head. It’s all she can do to keep herself from screaming, her legs shaking around his head as she cums so hard there are stars behind her eyelids.

He keeps licking at her until she whines and pushes him away, making him sit up, panting. “Holy shit we taste so good together,” he mutters, causing her to let out a snort.

“We’re not done, though. Ready for me now?” he asks her, and she laughs in shock before nodding at him.

He quickly helps her to lie on her side, getting behind her and lifting her leg to be over his waist. It’s no secret that it’s her favourite position, allowing her to be close to him as well as feel him so deeply. And it’s his favourite just because it’s her favourite.

Grabbing his cock, he slides the head through her swollen folds for a few seconds before lining up with her hole and slowly sliding in, making her eyes roll back as she gets what she needs.

She lets out a loud moan when he bottoms out, making Harry quickly place his hand over her mouth. “Hush, Pet. Don’t want us to get caught with m,cock deep in you, do you?” he teases, groaning when she clenches down on him at his words. That makes him hum in realization, pulling out just to push his cock back into her before repeating the action over and over at a consistent pace.

Neither of them know that Niall has gone on a search for them, calling their names quietly as he explores the house. Stopping outside of the bedroom door, he hears the faint sound of clapping of some sort, making him stop and listen.

“I bet you want him to hear, hm?” he teases darkly, listening to her whines and moans as she accommodates him fully. “Want m’bestfriend to hear how much of a whore you are for me,” he finishes.

His words have her crying out in pleasure, and he squeezes his hand even tighter around her throat. She claws at his wrist as she struggles to breathe, but he knows she truly doesn’t want him to stop because she didn’t tap him three times.

“Shut the fuck up, ‘m not gonna stop fucking you until you soak my cock and I fill you up again,” he grits, ignoring the sound of Niall groaning in frustration.

The two hear a groan on the other side of their locked door, but he doesn’t let up on his bruising thrusts. “You guys are fucking disgusting, I’m just going to leave,” Niall calls as he makes his way back downstairs with a disgusted look on his face. “Fuck like rabbits, I swear,” he mutters before slamming their front door shut.

YN’s eyes are rolled back into her head, her hand clawing at Harry’s wrist even harder, warning him of her orgasm, knowing it’s going to be big. Leaning down, Harry bites down on her ear gently before pulling away. “I know, baby. Gonna cum again, hm?” he questions, although he already knows the answer.

She nods against the force of him furiously, her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to hold off on her orgasm until he gives her permission. Opening her chapped lips, she manages to breathe out, “P-please,” she begs, her voice raspy. Leaning down once more, he presses some gentle kisses all over her neck before sucking on the spot gently.

Wanting to torture her a bit more, he smirks against her skin before he pulls away. “Please, what? What do you want?” he questions, loving the way she chokes and cries out in frustration, tears streaming down her face. “Tell me what you need, use your words, pet,” he hums, feeling her lock up around him once more.

After numerous attempts, and in between gasps for air, she can finally get it out as her lower body practically goes numb. “Please, let me cum,” she begs, feeling her stomach clench almost painfully.

Deciding to end his torment, he nods against her. “Yeah, pet. Cum for Daddy,” he rasps, nearing his orgasm as well. Immediately after he’s finished speaking, he feels her relax around him before locking down on him so tightly that he bites down on his bottom lip to hold back a scream of pleasure.

Her orgasm overloads almost all of his senses; he can hear, feel, and see her orgasm take over her body. The way her breath hitches in her throat and she lets out an almost animalistic groan fills his ears, her tight hole clenching down on him once more as he doesn’t stop his thrusts, the feeling of her orgasm soaking the both of their thighs making him look down as the clear liquid comes from her vagina.

All of those things combined send him over the edge with a silent scream, his face scrunched up as his orgasm is nearly painful with how tight his balls and stomach are.

His thrusts never cease, feeling her flutter around him as he fills her for the last time tonight as she relaxes fully, exhausted. He finally lets go of her throat as she starts to lose consciousness, rubbing up and down her body to ground her and cooing to her to let her know he’s there.

Not even removing himself from her still contracting hole, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder as she comes down slowly. The two stay that way until he has completely softened inside of her and her breathing is no longer shaky and uneven.

Her eyes are still closed in exhaustion when he slowly pulls himself out of her, a small hiss leaving his lips at the temperature change. With another chaste kiss to the side of her face, he lets her know that he’s going to get a washcloth for her, knowing she doesn’t have the energy to move from the bed.

She responds with a tired hum, her eyes still closed. While away, Harry wets a washcloth with warm water before grabbing some relieving cream, and on the way back to his wife he grabs a pair of loose cotton panties for her to sleep in.

Making his way to her, he spreads her legs gingerly before wincing at how swollen she is, guilt filling him. He wipes gently, but obviously not gentle enough as she cries out softly in pain as he grazes her sensitive clit.

“Sorry, baby,” he mutters, being way gentler as he finishes up. As soon as he’s done, he grabs some relieving cream and puts a bit on her before sliding some panties up her legs, rubbing her thighs when she whines slightly in discomfort. “I know, I know. You just need to sleep in them tonight and then you can breathe tomorrow,” he tells her, wiping some sweat from her forehead.

She nods weakly and snuggles into his hand, the warmth making her feel comfortable and even sleepier than she already was. Harry chuckles quietly before cleaning himself up quickly and taking the washcloth back into the bathroom before he pulls some boxers on.

He’s back at her side instantly, helping her weakened body out of the bed and across the hall to their guest bedroom, making sure he tells her what he’s doing to keep her grounded. The blankets are quickly pulled back before he helps her underneath them, and then he’s climbing under them himself, exhausted from his multiple orgasms as well.

No time is wasted before he’s wrapping his arms around her and looking down, only to see that she’s already asleep, her breathing quiet and even. With one last chuckle, he presses a kiss to her forehead before closing his eyes, drifting to sleep as well.

taglist

thank you so much for reading!!! your support means the world to me and i am open to any feedback!!! let me know what you thought🤍

#harryistheonlyoneforme #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles smut #smut #harry styles #harry styles filth #harry related writings #dbf harry styles #dbf harry #ceo harry smut #ceo harry #ceo!harry #ceo!harry styles #ceo harry x pregnant reader #ceorry smut #ceorry

1K notes · View notes

starry-eyes-love · 25 days

Text

Never Letting You Go

Masterlist

Pairing | Agent Javier Pena x Agent F!Reader

Summary | What starts out as a shitty Valentine’s Day turns into everything that you’ve ever wanted. Javi treats you the way you need, by never letting you go.

A/N: First time writing for Javier's character, forgot this was in the vault. Enjoy

(As a reminder I'm no longer doing tag lists, make sure to turn on notifications on my page for when I post).

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, Smut

Language, angst, mentions of prostitution and Agent work, mentions of the cartel, mentions of cheating (from your previous relationship), grinding, mentions of penetrative sex, soft fluffy moments.

Word Count: 5.5K

“Fuck baby,” he said, grinding against your ass with a little bit more force. “Do you feel that? See, that’s what you fucking do to me woman.” Javi was now rocking harder into you, giving you slow deep thrusts. You could feel his hard outline in his pants as he was seated firmly against you. “This is what you’ve always done to me. I don’t hate you, fuck baby, I like you. I want you. So if you’ll shut up long enough, then maybe you’ll hear me say it.”

Today was Valentine's Day, and usually this was something that didn’t concern Javier Peña. He was a DEA agent that was in the middle of trying to bring down drug dealers and drug lords, he didn’t have time to be concerned about feelings or emotions on a specific day on the calendar. But yet here he was, in the files room pacing back and forth, trying to calm his nerves. Javier was never nervous when it came to the opposite sex. He usually was always so calm, cool, and collected when handling them. Well, except for today that is, and especially when dealing with you. Somehow you had gotten under his skin just enough that now he was pacing back and forth, mind racing of what to do if you didn't like the gift that he just left you on your desk. He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t hear the door open and Steve Murphy step in.

“Javi, what the hell are you-” Steve said, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Javi pacing back and forth, running his hand down his face.

“She ain’t gonna like the gift. Why did you say it was from you and not a secret admirer? Jesus. Soy un idiota (I’m such an idiot).” Javi mumbled to himself.

“You got a lady a Valentine’s gift there Peña?” Murphy said, slamming the files on the desk and causing Javi to jump. Javi just stood there, not answering his friend and fellow DEA agent’s question. Steve, seeing how nervous Javi was, continued to tease him slightly. “Who’s the lucky girl, Peña?”

Before he could answer, they both heard you marching down the hall, yelling, “Peña, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, you arrogant bastard.”

About a year ago you were transferred to Columbia in an attempt to assist in the capture of Pablo Escobar. At first, you were excited about serving your country and bringing the bad guys to justice. That was before meeting your two male DEA partner’s, however. The first time you met Steve Murphy and Javier Peña it was love at first insult. You were the head female DEA agent hired to work alongside them in helping bring down the Medellín Cartel, and subsequently Pablo Escobar. However, your transfer to Columbia somehow pissed both of them off.

Since you had arrived, all those two idiots did was piss you off one way or another. They were the biggest source of your headaches and irritations to date, and one of the biggest reasons why you hated your current job. They wouldn’t listen to you, and they continuously left you out of the loop on information. To make matters worse, when they got bored you were the target of their practical jokes, like today.

Today was Valentine’s Day, and one day on the calendar that you wished you could just completely remove. You hated Valentine’s Day with a passion, ever since you found your ex-fiance balls deep in your sister on Valentine’s Day one year ago. It was after that you found out that the man who you thought loved you had always cheated on you with your sister, from Moment. Fucking. One. You were together five years with him, and apparently all those five years he was also fucking your sister every chance he got. You were happy to hear that her husband caught them in bed and had filed for a divorce. You thought it was poetic how she lost a man who made a shit ton of money for an asshole who could hardly pay rent for his shitty apartment. So when you took the job transfer to Columbia you felt okay with the situation that had happened, as shitty as it sounded.

But then last night your sister called you and informed you that she was getting married, and that she was pregnant too. She advised you that it would be best if you didn’t attend the wedding because of hard feelings the two of you had. When you asked who the soon-to-be husband and dad was, she had informed you that it was your ex-fiance and that they both were happy they found someone that loved them deeply. As soon as you heard that, you told her to ‘go to fucking hell,’ and then slammed the phone down. Out of anger and rage you grabbed the bottle of alcohol that was on the counter, and downed most of it in one go. Yeah, you weren’t going to that fucking wedding.

When you woke up and realized it was Valentine’s Day, you seriously contemplated calling in work sick. But you remembered that you had a morning meeting with your bosses and you knew that Javi and Steve wouldn’t show up. So you begrudgingly got up and showered, swearing underneath your breath of how life wasn’t fair. You hated today, Valentine’s Day, with a passion. Six years ago you met your ex on Valentine’s Day because he was stood up on a date, a date with your sister you found out much later. Then last year, on Valentine’s Day, you caught him cheating with your sister. How did life get so fucked up?

To add to your already sour mood, when you got into work early you noticed that all the rest of the females in the office had big bouquet of flowers on their desks from Javi and Steve. Each of them had a note saying that they really appreciated all the hard work that they have done, and that they were special angels for helping them out. When you got to your desk you didn’t see any flowers or note telling you that you were special. The only note that you saw was from Steve saying “don’t fuck up this meeting” and asked if you took your “anti-bitch pill today yet.” Yeah you hated this fucking day.

The meeting that was only supposed to be an hour went on for three long hours, and you were berated for two out of the three hours in the meeting. You had to once again mop up the mess that both Steve and Javi had created, promising to get results instead of excuses. Recently, all the leads that your department was getting in capturing Escobar were cold, no one had seen him or heard of him in almost a month. Even when you went in and shook the crime tree, nothing fell out of place which made everyone uneasy, especially your superiors.

Finally when the meeting was over with you were able to return to your desk to try to let your heart and blood pressure return to normal. When you approached your desk, you saw a little basket there with a pretty red ribbon with sparkles in it. You looked around quickly to see if anyone noticed or was standing there, you also glanced quickly under your desk to make sure Steve or Javi wasn’t sitting there waiting for you to relax so they could scare you. When you noticed nothing was out of the ordinary you felt your heart flutter in your chest, especially when the tag read “to the most special DEA female agent” in Javier’s handwriting.

At first your heart fluttered, thinking that finally someone, Javi, took the time to give a shit. If you were being honest with yourself, you did like Javier Peña. He was very sexy and attractive. When he wasn’t being an asshole, he was truly sensitive and understood the female sex with their emotions. You thought that he didn’t care anymore about you, but the longer you looked at the name tag on your gift, the more you thought that maybe you were wrong at your assessment. Your heart raced and you felt the heat creep up your neck at the thought that maybe Javi did see you as something more than just an individual who worked with him each day. But when you opened the basket and saw the gift that was laying there for you, your wonder turned into embarrassment as your face fell. Then when you read the note inside you saw red with anger. That bastard took it one step too far this time.

Once Javi heard your voice he suddenly froze, slowly listening to where you were coming from. When he realized that you were getting closer, he glanced over at Murphy with wide, scared eyes. He mouthed “shh, shut the fuck up,” when Steve went to open his mouth to ask Javi something.

As Steve stood there he was trying to understand what the hell his partner had done to anger you so much. He mouthed to Javi ‘what the fuck did you do man?’ Javi just shook his head and placed his finger to his lips to silence Steve’s further questioning. He wasn’t trying to be a coward, but with how angry you were right now, he didn’t want to come face to face with you. Yes, Javi had a knack for pissing you off so much that you’d threaten to kill him. But from how angry you sounded, he figured that if he was standing in front of you right now, that you would in fact shoot him dead.

Javi and Steve continued to stand in silence together for a few minutes. Javi was hoping that you would just continue down the hallway and not stop outside of this door. For a moment it sounded like you had moved on, so much so that Javi felt himself visibly relax and let out a sigh. But that moment was short lived. When Javi heard the door knob turn he quickly said, “shit Murph, lie,” and then he ducked behind one of the filing cabinets against the wall.

“What the-” Steve said, looking confused, but for only a minute as you quickly came bursting through the door seething with anger.

“Murphy, where is he?” you said, steam practically coming out of your ears at how mad and pissed off you were at Javier Peña.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t give me that I don’t know shit. You two are practically glued together at the hip, so where the hell is he?” You bit back, standing right in front of Steve’s face.

“Woah, now wait just a second there princess, don’t be biting my head off. I don’t know where he is, or what he’s done, but you can just curb that attitude of yours and-”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what he’s done. This smells like both Peña and Murphy antics to me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well sorry cariño, I don’t know where he is or what he’s done.”

Huffing, you let out another long sigh, balling your fists up and slamming them tight against your side. “This is what he’s done,” you said, shoving the box you were holding with the card in his face. “And if you happen to see him, you can tell him that I’m looking for him.”

You went to leave, but Murphy blocked your exit saying, “wait a second here princess, don’t go and give me something like this and then take off. Let’s see what’s gotten your panties in a twist.”

“I knew it, it was your idea. I don’t get why you both have to always be so-” But before you could finish Steve had opened the box and saw what was inside it. Steve pulled out a pair of black lace panties that had a vibrator attached to them, and as he did he noticed the note at the bottom of the box. The note was written in Javi’s handwriting and said, “for all those lonely nights baby, when you’re so wound up and don’t have a man that can be inside you. Enjoy.” Signed, Javier Peña.

Murphy was shocked at what he saw and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He knew Javi loved to rile you up, and he had to hand it to his partner, he definitely got you going. It was the perfect gift to get even for all those irritating moments the three of you had. But when he looked up at you he immediately froze, his laugh dying out in his throat. Your eyes were red and puffy now as frustrated tears streamed down your face. Steve could tell that the jokes maybe went a little too far this time.

“Sweetheart, we’re-”

“Don’t, just don’t Steve,” you said, grabbing the box and throwing everything back inside, not wanting to look up at him. “I get it, it’s a joke. A really fucking mean joke, ya know. You all can have any woman that you want. And here I am, in Columbia, and I can’t even get sleazy drug lords to choose me when I’m undercover. Shit, I couldn’t even keep my ex-fiance faithful on this day. You guys will find this hilarious, last year I found my ex fucking my sister. Apparently he never wanted me, wanted her cause now they’re getting married and having a baby and I’m not welcome around my family any more, cause I guess I can’t keep anyone happy. So nice of you to give the other girls flowers, and tell them how great they are when they don’t even fucking do anything for you. Meanwhile I have five bullet wounds and several cracked ribs for covering your asses. By the way, you guys are getting a raise in pay and I’m getting a 5 dollar reduction in pay. Apparently the superiors feel that it’ll give you guys motivation or something. So yeah, you’re right, perfect joke. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me.” And with that you left, slamming the door.

This was a joke that Peña and Murphy started with you about six months ago when you were placed undercover to go and try to extract information of the whereabouts of Pablo Escobar. They placed you at a brothel, knowing that some of Pablo’s higher up men were going to come to choose women to give them sexual favors for the night. With the help of a few informants, they had dressed you up and gave you pointers on how women acted in these places in Colombia. Javi had made a joke at you that you were the highest paid prostitute on the street, but when it came time for Pablo’s men to take you, you were the only one left behind. You weren’t ugly, you actually were quite beautiful, but that night Javi and Murphy had a hay day with you, as you were the only one that was not chosen. To make matters worse, you had gone out with them that night and couldn’t even get a guy to buy you a drink at the bar, let alone talk with you. And now the joke, you thought, had gone too far. Humiliated and embarrassed, you went and gathered your things and left to go home for the day, not wanting to see anyone again.

After you stormed out, and Murphy knew you were gone, he walked over to where Javi was, facing the back wall. “You got her vibrating panties?” Steve said, shaking his head and laughing.

“At the time, I thought it was a good idea. But something got lost in translation I suppose,” he said, still not wanting to leave his hiding spot.

“Peña, let me give you some advice. If you like a girl, don’t get her vibrating panties and then give her a card that says ‘for all those lonely nights when you don’t have a man.’ It just makes you look like an even bigger dick than what you already are.”

“Yeah, I realize that now,” he said, still not coming out of his hiding spot.

“Did ya know any of that other shit she was talking about?” Steve said, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. Javi shook his head no as he came out of where he was hiding.

“Kinda fucked up if you ask me. Fucking her own sister and then marrying her. Talk about a cold hearted son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, I never knew. Fuck Murph, what do I do?”

“You already know what you gotta do man. Or do I need to call her back in here so she can spell it out for you?”

“Fuck you,” Javi said, walking out the door to go find you. He felt like the biggest dick right now. The gift and note wasn’t a joke from him, and he hated to think that you felt like it was.

Javi eventually learned that you had decided to go home for the day, leaving your work here. “She’s taking a sick day,” is what Maria, the secretary in the front office, had told him. Javi had attempted to get some paperwork done, but he kept thinking about you and how hurt you sounded when talking with Murphy. He didn’t mean for it to come off as a joke, in fact Javi wanted you to have the panties for a good reason, he wanted you to wear them for him.

Javi had been the biggest pain in your ass from the start. He was always coming over to your desk, forcing you to work through his work, making you work in the field with him, etc. To you it felt like he was punishing you for being good at your job. But in reality, he secretly liked you and wanted to be with you. Javi didn’t know why he couldn’t communicate his feelings to you, why he always had to make fun of you or rile you up. “I’m taking a sick day,” Javi told Murphy as he walked towards the door.

Murphy, who was still at his desk, said “Connie said she’s at home now.” Connie was one of your best friends here in Colombia. Being in a foreign country was hard, and making friends was even harder, especially what you did for a job. Your friends back at home disagreed with your career choice of being sent to Colombia, so your entire support structure was no longer there. Connie was one of the nicest women you had met or seen in the longest time. She understood your career choice, and didn’t hold it against you when your plans would change.

Javi had stopped and bought a dozen flowers from a street vendor before he got to your house. When he knocked on the door he softly said, “querida, I’m so sorry. Please open up, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I-”

“Who the fuck said you made me cry Peña?” you said, opening up the door suddenly, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes, tears at your lash line.

“No one I, Jesus woman, c’mere,” he said, stepping inside and placing the flowers on the end table by the door when he saw your face. He then reached for you, pulled you tight into his chest, holding you as the dam opened up again and the tears fell. “I’m so sorry baby, so sorry. I didn’t mean how it came out, fuck-”

“What did I do for you to hate me?” you said, voice muffled in his chest.

“Nothin’ baby, I don’t hate you, I-” he said, rubbing his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. This was not going the way that he had hoped.

“I mean, I pull extra duty, and am one of the strongest hitters on the team. Fuck Javi, I even have brought in more leads than Murphy and yet you publicly humiliate me.” You said, as a sob broke free from your mouth. You didn’t know why you were opening up, allowing Javi to attempt to soothe you. You just didn’t have it in you to fight right now, too emotionally worked up to even care.

“No, no, baby. It ain’t like that, look at me,” Javi said, pulling you away from his chest and gently cupping your face with his hands. “Querida, I got them for you and for me, for you to think about me.”

Shaking your head you stepped back and said, “what? Peña, what the fuck are you talking about for you and me? I’m not-”

“Shit, this ain’t coming out the way I wanted it to,” Javi said, pacing back and forth in your living room. Javi was mumbling to himself, unsure of how to deal with the situation and correct it. Not knowing how to place it into words, his feelings, he thought that he could show you. He immediately reached for you and kissed you hard on the lips. Javi, once again, was hoping the kiss would show you that he cared, but all you read was he was being condescending once again. You immediately pulled back and found your strength and slapped Javi hard across his face.

“Javi, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Just because I’m crying, trying to understand why the guy I have a crush on hates me, doesn’t give you the right to-”

“I like you,” he said, rubbing the sting site he felt across his cheek. Damn that woman could hit hard, he thought to himself. You continued to talk overtop of him, not realizing what he just said. You kept saying how much of an asshole he’s been to you and how much you hate men as you’ve always been taken advantage of. Javi shook his head at you, hearing words such as dickhead, asshole along with other words such as, pendejo and cabrón. You kept telling him off, not listening to anything that he had just told you.

With a sarcastic laugh, he said, “I can’t fucking believe you, you don’t listen baby.” He was now getting just as frustrated at you for not listening to him. She says I don’t listen, hell, she doesn’t listen.

All you heard was ‘I can’t fucking believe you’ and nothing else. Once again, you marched over to smack Javi hard across the face. But this time, he caught your hand mid-air saying, “I don’t think so cariño. You only get one free hit, and you already used it up for today.”

The sadness that you felt earlier had now turned into blinding anger and rage. You started fighting back. You were done with men treating you like assholes, for cheating on you with your sister, for not listening to you or even attempt at paying attention. You started hitting Javi’s chest, yelling at him and saying, “you’re an asshole,” over and over again. You were throwing a temper tantrum, frustrated about the last few days, and Javi was your outlet. However, Javi didn’t see your attitude nor behavior as enduring or even cute. Him, having about enough of you using him as a physical punching bag, decided to take matters into his own hands to calm you down. He grabbed your hand and threw it behind your back, slamming you to the ground while yelling, “Enough.”

You kept trying to kick him, to hurt him more. You weren’t part of this planet anymore, you just saw red at reliving every shitty moment for the last six years. Of taking the smacks to the face your boyfriend gave you when he was drunk and you questioned why he had red lipstick stains on his shirt and around his cock as you undressed him from a night out with his friends. What you didn’t know is that it was your sister’s lips that were around him, and not some other woman. It didn’t make those moments easier, but you always thought that maybe it was just a one night stand, not a five year long relationship behind your back.

You kept kicking Javi, yelling that you were done with people hurting you, clearly not seeing him anymore. To help calm you down, Javi maneuvered his body so he was sitting on your ass, with your arm behind your back. Your chest was laying flat on the floor, his chest then tight on your back as he snarled in your ear, “you’re gonna stop this shit, right now, stop trying to hit me.”

“Fuck you David-” you said, not realizing that you called him your ex.

“I’m not him baby. I never was, nor will I ever be him. So stop calling me David, my name isn’t fucking David.” Javi growled in your ear, leaning harder into you to get you to calm down.

You finally relaxed at hearing Javi speak to you, reminding yourself that he wasn’t your ex. As soon as you relaxed Javi released your arm, but stayed firm against you, hands on both sides of your head as he breathed hard and fast at the fight that you gave him. It was then that you remembered everything that Javi and you were, everything that you were alone.

Sometimes at night when you couldn’t sleep you’d go back into work and find Javi working alone at his desk. He’d always come over and ask you why you were showing up at work around midnight on a day where you just placed in 12 hours. Alone the two of you would always find moments where you could be soft with each other. He’d order you both greasy pizza to eat at night and he’d tease you of picking off all the pepperoni. Nights where you were scared to be home alone, he’d take you back to his house and you’d sleep in his bed when he slept on the couch. When you got shot several times, after you were discharged home, he’d stay with you in your apartment. He even slept next to you on your bed a few times.

He also bathed you when you got sick with a fever from the infection of the bullet wounds, and nursed you back to health for several weeks. If you were being honest, Javi was your best friend when the two of you were alone. But at work, he was the biggest dickhead. You were jealous when he started flirting with the new secretary that came in, Phillis, and hated when you saw him at the brothel down the street. Javi never attempted sex with you, and honestly, it upset you. You wanted him, but apparently he never wanted you. So at work you took out your frustration the only way you knew how, you became a pain in his ass like he was a pain in yours.

But when Javi didn’t move, continuing to breathe hard in and out, you knew that something had changed. You went to move your ass and immediately he hissed “don’t” as his hips stayed tight against yours, not moving nor letting you up. After a moment of submitting to him you heard him ask in a strained voice “are you calm enough for me to move or do we have to keep you like this for a little longer?”

You didn’t know why you felt like saying it out loud, but you didn’t want to play this game of not being honest with him anymore. “I’ve calmed down, but Javi, I’d like it if you stay like this for a little while, hell you can even push deeper into me if you want.” You gave Javi a little wiggle of your ass at his statement.

The air around the two of you changed, thickening with sexual tension. “Shit baby, ya can’t say that to me,'' he said, slightly leaning forward and pushing his crotch tighter to your ass. You felt him slightly rock back and forth, groaning at the feel of you beneath him.

You slightly arched your back, pushing up so he could kiss your neck. When you changed the position both of you moaned loud in unison, feeling his hips slowly grind harder into you. You never remembered feeling this good by just letting a man grind into you, but fuck, Javi was slowly making you feel feral.

“Javi, I don’t-” you said slowly.

“No,” He growled, not wanting you to tell him to stop. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold back. He wanted so desperately to be deep inside of your warm cunt that he was struggling right now to keep his composure. “Fuck hermosa, feel what you do to me.”

But you were, you felt how much Javi wanted you and you knew how much you wanted him. You laid there and let him slowly grind his hips into you again until something snapped inside.

“Javi, fuck me,” you said, pushing your ass harded back into him.

Javi immediately stilled his hips at your statement, looking down at you, trying to determine if what you were asking was what he thought. When he didn’t respond again, you said with a little more bite, “Javi, you gave me a vibrator for all those lonely nights when I don’t have a man’s dick inside of me. Please, I don’t want to use the vibrator tonight. For once on Valentine’s Day I want a man inside me that fucking cares. If you really care, please give me that.”

You felt Javi get off from you and walk away, towards the door, rustling around with something. You laid face down in the middle of your living room, tears welling up in your eyes at being rejected once again. You hated this fucking holiday, but when you let out a little sniffle you felt his hand cup your chin, turning you to the side. With the softest eyes possible he said, “come on now, no more crying. Now up you go,” as he helped you stand. Once you were standing he smiled down at you and then gave you a slow tender kiss on the lips. When he pulled back he held out the black lace panties in front of your face.

“Here, I bought these for you. Now, go and put them on, and let me see them on you. Then I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, like a man that’s wanted to be with you from the moment he laid eyes on you. Fuck what you stupid ex did to you last year-”

“And every year before,” you said softly.

Javi’s eyes got impossibly dark, anger and lust mixing with them. He hated your ex, the man that broke you. If Javi had to spend the rest of his life showing you that you deserved more, then he would do it. Fuck his superiors, or anyone else that thought he and you shouldn’t be together.

“The fact that you say that makes me angry that any man would ever-”

“Forget it Javi, it’s-”

“No. Now pay attention sweetheart, cause I’m only gonna say it once. No man should ever make you feel like this, ever, you hear me? Now, go put them on baby, and let me see you in them. Then, I’m gonna take you to bed and show you how a man is supposed to treat the woman he cares about.”

“Oh, and how’s that Peña, what are you gonna do that makes me forget all the stupid shit other men have done?” You said, playfully nudging Javi and his cockiness that you have found you love.

Javi grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back while whispering above you, “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you’re gonna forget every man before me, baby. Then I’m gonna show you how a real man treats the woman he’s crazy over. It’s just you and me, and I’ll remind you of that every night before we go to sleep. There’s no one’s pussy I’d rather be buried in than yours. I only want to be balls deep in you, and not anyone else.” Javi then slammed his lips onto yours and gave you a kiss like you deserved.

Maybe you had to have David be in your life and screw you over, because without him, you’d never have met Javier Peña. Javi was a real man that made good on his promises, of being the man that you needed. Before the night was over, and after you came down from your intense rough sex with him, you found yourself looking into his eyes and seeing the potential for a future once again. As Javi slowly rocked into you, making slow love at the end, he whispered, “you’re mine cariño, and I’m never letting you go.” And that was the thing that tipped you both over the edge, moaning each other’s names and kissing each other like you both had just found your future soulmate.

Javi did make good on his promises, he never let you go.

267 notes · View notes

peterthepark · 2 years

Text

little witch

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ graphic smut, rough sex, outdoor/public sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, weed, parties, unprotected piv, creampie, squirting, orgasm denial, dom!eddie

summary: a slutty witch costume combined with eddie’s determination to live up to his devilish attire creates a night that both of you are sure to remember.

a/n: definitely going 2 hell for this one. enjoy! recommend listening to tear u apart by she wants revenge or this season of the witch song :)

‘It’s gonna be fun,’ they told him. ‘Why would we pass up an invitation to the coolest party of the year when we never get these opportunities anyways?’ they said.

Jeff and Gareth are fucking idiots. Eddie doesn’t fit in here. None of them do. They stick out like terribly sore thumbs, and it’s nearly comical how obviously misplaced they are amongst this adolescent swarm of boring costumes.

Eddie looks like he walked straight out of the D&D dungeon master’s guide: devil-like horns attached to a flimsy headband that he had stolen from little Erica Sinclair, a red cape tucked into the collar of his signature Hellfire t-shirt, because — of course — how could he ever go a day without it? All of this coupled with a leather jacket, distressed denim and dark liner smudged around his eyes.

What is he exactly? It’s hard to say. His best description is: Izzy Stradlin of Guns N’ Roses meets the baatezu from the Nine Hells of Baator.

Or simply put – a sexy, red gothic devil.

Hawkins High’s infamous Halloween party sits right on the edge of a woodsy Indiana forest, nothing but oddly cut jack-o-lanterns and wax candles decorating the tops of tattered picnic tables. Hard soil and autumn leaves crunch beneath Eddie’s combat boots as he nurses his third solo cup of the night, already seeking for something stronger when he sees Jeff and Gareth being chatted up by a couple eager girls from the debate team.

Goddamn, do they really have more game than him?

He winces, lips curling into a distasteful frown as he busies himself by the candy table and slips a purple lollipop into his mouth with raised brows. In the corner of the crowd, Eddie glances at a couple making out by the beer keg that seem to be quite literally jumping at each other’s bones in public. Boo. He groans in annoyance, looking over his shoulder to find a classic blonde-brunette combo eating each other’s faces just as passionately.

Must be fucking nice.

Yeah, no. He’s going for a walk. Fuck this party and fuck everyone here, including Jeff and Gareth.

Never liked Halloween anyways. Always been more of a Valentine’s Day kind-of-guy.

Eddie crushes his solo cup and chucks it onto a random table, ignoring the protests of his classmates when he displays no intention of stopping or apologizing as he cooly saunters past. The silver chains strung across his belt loops jingle whilst he takes swift strides into the forest; the ruckus of the party fades behind him with each firm step he takes, the prominent wrinkles in his forehead softening as his ears free from a looping mixtape of Thriller.

He continues suckling on his lollipop, a stormy purple staining his tongue as he ventures deeper into the forest and away from that godforsaken, amateur highschool party. Whatever that fucking was, he’s over it. Completely and utterly over it.

That’s when he stumbles onto a clearing in the middle of the woods, surrounded by looming trees circling an old picnic table and…

You. Alone.

Eddie comes to a halt as soon as he sees the faint flickering of orange. Heavy curses fall from your lips as you tend to the tightly-rolled blunt between your fingers, a flame failing to ignite as a result of the cheap Zippo lighter in your opposite hand.

“Goddammit… shit… motherfucking…” You grunt, hurling the lighter in Eddie’s direction. He ducks immediately, eyes bulging out of his head like deer-in-headlights when you finally lock stares. Your childish gaze bounces from the discarded lighter to Eddie’s face. “I… um…”

He definitely knows you, even under the darkness of a haunting midnight sky. Definitely. He’s instantly taken back to the fall semester of his (second attempt) of senior year, having had you in a previous class where he often wondered what the pretty girl’s name who sat in the front was.

And said pretty girl is blinking at him expectantly.

Anyday now. Anyday. Say something, fucker.

“Need, uh, a light?”

Eddie digs his hand into the pocket of his leather jacket, fumbling with the boxy metal before you’re nodding at him with curious eyes and a soft smile. He quickly meets you halfway, feeling his heartbeat stutter when your manicured fingers brush against his palm and your warmth lingers upon his skin.

He takes in the sight of the witch hat resting atop your head, a classic black one that slopes into a swirl at the tip. Your lips are blood-red, almost complimenting the shade of Eddie’s cape and devil horns. A short, raven-colored dress hugs your body perfectly, the flowing sleeves flaring out by your hands as you successfully ignite the joint hanging from your faint smirk.

“Thanks.” You mumble, taking a heavy drag with an appreciative hum before you’re handing back his lighter and sitting down on the wooden bench. He follows suit, whispering a resigned ‘No problem’ as he plops himself onto the opposite end and tosses his lollipop stick to the side. “Party sucked?”

“Yeah, always does.”

“Oh, that’s never good.”

A pause.

“I like your costume…”

“Your costume is…”

The sentences fill the silence simultaneously, causing sincere laughter to follow suit on both parts as you sneakily glance at each other with wide grins. You lean over, sticking out your smaller palm with outstretched fingers. “Alright, I’m Y/N.”

Y/N, he repeats to himself.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate, gingerly enveloping his hand overs yours as he gives it a gentle squeeze. “And I’m—“

“Eddie.” You smile brightly, flicking the blunt against the edge of the table. “I know you. Hellfire himself, right?”

You know him. As if his stomach wasn’t churning with excitement already… you know him — not as the long-haired freak walking the hallways of Hawkins High, but as Eddie “Hellfire Himself” Munson. He can’t fight off the blood that rushes to his face; pink spreads across the bridge of his nose and cheeks as he catches your intent gaze accompanied by that enticing curl of your red lips.

“Yes, it is I… in the flesh.” He chuckles. “And Y/N,” Your name is sweet on his tongue, the name he’d finally come to learn after many months of pointless pining in history class back then. The name that he can’t help but play over and over again in his head, a melody of syllables too gentle for someone of his candor. He points at you, stressing each word with gaiety. “Miss top of the class, graduating senior president, is that right?”

You shrug casually. “In the flesh.”

He huffs in amusement, scratching his neck before he shamelessly watches you finger the thick layering of necklaces swooping into the fleshy valley of your breasts. You clear your throat, hiding your own pleased expression as his eyes helplessly bounce back up to your face with that boyish fear of having been caught looking at places he shouldn’t have been looking at.

Fuck, is it getting hot or is it just him? Awkwardly, he shrugs off his leather jacket, haphazardly laying it over the bench.

Okay, could Eddie seriously blame himself? He’s respectful. He is. Believe him when he says he loves women, and men. Yet it’s almost as if you’re letting him look, angling your hips towards him and parting your knees ever-so-slightly so that your short dress strategically rides up the expanse of your thighs. If you hike your leg up just a little bit higher, he’d see… fuck, he doesn’t know you like that. Stop it.

Does it matter, though?

“So, Eddie, what’s the reasoning behind…” You shift closer to his side of the table. Eddie’s gaze follows the way your fingers dart for the collar of his cape, thumb and forefinger rubbing the fabric purposefully. Your eyes lock, the corners of your lips tugging into a contagious line that Eddie can’t help but mirror. “... this bold choice of costume? A red devil is never good news.”

He wants to wipe that smirk clean off of your mouth. Maybe take some of your lipstick with it, too.

“I’m a good boy today, Y/N. Promise.” He smiles, swearing that he feels your body stiffen against him. “But I mean… it is Halloween, of course. Everyone’s on their worst behavior, pissing their own pants, ready to rob kids for candy…” If he hadn’t been so glued to the glittery shadow around your lids and the smudged mascara under your lower lashes, he wouldn’t have seen your not-so-subtle attempt at glancing at his lap. “... making out in… haunted places. You know, the usual.”

You squint. “Right.”

“Mhm.”

The bench creaks as you stand up, fingers tugging the length of your minidress back over your ass as you kick one boot in front of the other. Eddie remains frozen in his place, reddish leaves trailing past his line of sight while you lean yourself against a tall tree trunk.

You’re teasing him.

He doesn't even fully know you, and he’s already hoping for certain ways this could go.

If you wanted to play that game, you could’ve just asked.

“You know people say these woods are haunted?” Crossing your ankles, your newfound companion doesn’t tear his eyes off of your ripped fishnets, savouring your generous display of cleavage and gorgeous hips as you pull your blunt away from your lips with a hiss and wave it around. “Back in the 1700s, after the Salem witch trials… there were actually rumors that there had been some runaway witches in Hawkins. Didn’t turn out too well for them in the end.”

“Yeah? What happened?” You push off of the tree with the heel of your boot, slowly pacing your way back towards Eddie.

His thighs are spread apart widely, ringed hands drumming patiently against the tattoos on his forearms.

Fuck, he looks good.

“Whatever happens to all witches, I suppose.” You grin mischievously with enthusiastic eyes. “But I’ve always heard these parts are… full of spirits because of the… well, y’know.” A beat, then your knee is slowly pressing up against Eddie’s as you stare at the ground shyly with fluttering lashes. “Shame no one’s living up to Halloween tradition and making out — like you said — in… such a haunted place like this one.”

He exhales shakily, clenching his jaw when you curiously peer at him. “Most definitely.”

“I mean…” You giggle and turn your back to him, unable to see Eddie’s face contort into one of disappointment from the loss of physical contact. “I’m certain there’s an adorable, lovesick couple just bound to show up and fulfill…”

When you twirl around to teasingly look at Eddie, you nearly gasp out of surprise when you collide roughly with his chest. Your balance nearly gives way, but not before his pale hands grip onto your wrists and hold you upright. His knuckles are prominent, eyebrows pulled into a deep furrow and lips parted as his lust-blown pupils eagerly search yours.

He’s struggling.

And you think… this is finally it. Eddie Munson, the guy from the back of class who you’ve always kinda had a thing for, is gonna actually kiss you. Halloween night. 1986. Your peak.

But what he does next is almost as jarring as a kiss.

He carefully takes the blunt between your fingers, almost assessing the image of your lipstick stain on the end before he’s shamelessly putting his own mouth on it without hesitation. His eyes. His fucking eyes. They never leave yours, even when he inhales the joint deeply and quickly lets out an experienced exhale into your embarrassingly stunned face.

Whatever confidence you had going diminishes into a tangled ball of nothingness when Eddie holds the roll in front of your mouth, gaze half-lidded and tongue poking out from between his teeth.

“Open,” He says. And so you follow without protest, unblinking and suddenly submissive as he slips the joint back into its original place between your lips with a devilish chuckle. “Atta girl. Does what she’s told, doesn’t she?”

You gulp, only focusing on the taste of Eddie amongst the rolling paper. “Depends on who’s telling me.”

“Right, right. So, if I posed an idea… like well, fulfilling that very special tradition of… say, I don’t know, making out in a haunted place… just to make sure we’re really nailing the Halloween festivities here, little witch…” He humorously flicks at your hat, costumed horns bouncing while he begins to back you up against a tree. Eddie’s grin somehow widens even more, pearly-white canines on display as you slowly take a step back with each step he takes forward. “You definitely, definitely wouldn’t help me fulfill it, would you? Since it… after all, depends. And I’m sure the senior class president doesn’t take orders from… student delinquents like me.”

“Eddie…” You manage to breathe out, joint falling from your mouth as your back presses against the rough texture of tree bark.

“I mean, honestly, what are you doing all alone back here? Just… waiting for someone to stumble upon you and… what? What then, Y/N?” He laughs innocently, and you instinctively squeeze your thighs together as his fingers toy with the chains decorating his belt loops.

“Honestly?” You gaze up at him from beneath the black rim of your witch hat, mascara delicately framing the whites of your eyes. “Saw a tempting, red devil on the way here — thought he looked a little too lonely for a night like this one, especially when he just looked so good in such a simple costume. ‘Was hoping he’d find me… all alone, like you said.” You bite your lip. Eddie tilts his chin up and pins you with his eyes. “Was hoping that you’d find me all alone, and that I could… fuck, you looked bored at — at the party, and I figured you’d…”

“Come out and meet you…” Eddie finishes. You nod slowly.

“Halloween festivities, you know.”

He hums. “Right.” It’s silent for a good minute, until you feel Eddie’s hand ghost over your arm, trailing up your shoulder with such gentleness, you wouldn’t have even realized he had been touching you in the first place. “Well, I guess… if this place is haunted like you said, and if we’re the only two people out here…”

“Yeah?” Your voice comes out as a hushed whimper.

Eddie’s ears perk up at the sound. He pauses to catch his breath, desperately holding onto the remnants of his self-control.

“Then maybe, just maybe, we could always follow tradition. Is that… is that what you wanted, Y/N? For me to come out here just so we could make-out in the dark, away from the noise, tucked away deep in the forest where… no one can hear us? No matter how loud we’ll get?” A breathy moan escapes from the back of your throat, and Eddie realizes that he’s broken past whatever act you had going on. “That’s it, isn’t it? Hey, come on. Look at me, Y/N.” You raise your chin from your chest, meeting Eddie’s now softer eyes. “What do you want from me?”

He reaches for your hat, pulling it up and away from your face before his palms are resting against your cheeks. “Um, want you to…”

“To…” He spurs you on, stroking your skin with his thumbs.

In the shadows, Eddie’s face is so desperately close to yours that you can just smell the strong fragrance of his earthy cologne and the faint lingering taste of whatever he had been drinking.

All or nothing.

“To kiss me.” You swallow loudly, forcing the words out of your mouth. “Kiss me and… and don’t stop, please? Eddie?”

His eyes bore deep into yours, nothing but a lustful twinkle in his near-black pupils as he inhales deeply.

“Damn it, Y/N. All you had to do was fucking ask from the start.”

By the time the words finally leave him, Eddie’s lips are on you. It’s far from sweet, aching with a clandestine fervor as his mouth moves harshly against yours. Hot. Searing. Wet. Your fists are woven tightly amongst the cotton of his Hellfire shirt, and you kiss him helplessly with eyes clenched-shut, the sensation of his warm tongue keeping you in a trance.

Overpowering. Imperfect. Messy.

Yet, you want more of him.

You feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath your nose, fingers rustling through his hair as you cave into one another with unrestrained motion. Warmth blossoms in Eddie’s stomach as you lean back against the tree trunk to pull away, the fresh memory of your moans dancing against his pillowy lips while you stumble for air.

“Was that okay?” He whispers tenderly. You could almost burst out in laughter. How could his tone be so patient and friendly when his kiss had been nothing but wanton and needy? Slowly, a smile spreads across your cheeks, a weak nod following. “Can I do it again?”

“You can do anything you want.” You answer, brushing his hair away from his face before his hands drift down to your waist.

The action is suggestive, fingers leaving deep indents in the supple flesh of where hip-meets-thigh as he slips his knee between your legs. Then his mouth is on your body again. He’s more adventurous this second time around, letting his lips trail over your shoulder and the conch of your ear before he’s kissing his way down your outstretched throat — biting, licking, sucking.

He’s hard. Really hard.

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is whiny, nothing but a simple rasp filling the air as you sensually tend to his pale neck, teeth nibbling the skin until porcelain turns to a blooming red. “S-Sweetheart, hey… I don’t… fucking hell, don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t want to—“

“But I want to. I’m okay if you’re okay.”

“Shit, okay. Okay. I… fuck, I wasn’t expecting more than a kiss, but…” He moans embarrassingly loud when you tug at the curls of his hair, tilting his chin back so that you have more access to his throat. “Fuck, I hope you don’t think I’m like — like any of those assholes back there… just… looking for a quick fuck or anything….”

“Were you not?”

“Fine, maybe I was. Maybe I wanted to — to run into a… pretty girl like you… sitting alone out here, all dressed up with a shitty fucking lighter, by the way. Bet that was part of your plan too, huh? Reel me in and smoke that pathetic joint like you’re all tough?” Eddie cradles the back of your neck with his hand, whispering lewdly against your lips as he searches for another kiss. “God, you’re so hot. So hot.”

“You didn’t even k-know my name…”

“Shut it. I do now, and I want nothing more than — fuck, than to just say it over and over again until you get tired of hearing it.”

“Yeah?” You smirk against Eddie’s skin, glancing up at his beat-red face and the lopsided devil horns on his head before gingerly reaching up to toss them aside.

He’s a devil, alright.

Eddie nods eagerly, eyes cracking open when he feels your mouth leave him and the familiar clicking sound of his belt buckle. Holy fucking shit. “Oh, here? Like right here f-for real?” He gapes at you as you unbutton his jeans, slipping your hand into his pants to palm at the hard front of his boxers.

“Having second thoughts?”

“You’re… you’re fucking insane.” He chuckles in disbelief, groaning quietly when you rest your forehead against his shoulder and free his cock from his clothing. Glancing up at the sky, Eddie humorously whispers to himself. “Oh, crazy girls will just be the death of me.”

“Eddie, you’re so big…” You wrap your fingers around his swollen tip, moaning as you collect the pre-cum leaking from his slit. You pump him a couple times in your hand, grinning as Eddie’s face falls into the crook of your neck. “Dunno if it’ll fit me.”

“Mmm… oh, Y/N — fuck…”

“Feels good?” You lick at his earlobe, purring as you run your digits across the two veins on either side of the base.

Eddie’s weight against you is nearly crushing, but you can only pay attention to the feeling of his hard, heavy cock twitching in your grasp as you stroke him.

“Christ, feels amazing. Fuck, baby…” The pet name leaves him without hesitation. He chokes on his own moans, incoherent praises falling from his lips as he desperately splays his palm against the tree for leverage. His eyes follow the motion of you spitting into your hand, before you’re covering his dick in bubbly spit. “O-Oh, shit… that’s hot. Motherfuckin’ Ozzy… m’fuck, you’re jerking me off s-so well. God, I wonder how — wonder how tight you are…”

“Want you…” You confess, mewling in pleasure as his other palm kneads at your ass. “I bet you taste so good, Eddie.”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He groans needily, breaths stuttering in his throat as you sink to your knees. Leaves crunch beneath your limbs, sharp twigs digging into your calves as Eddie watches you tug his jeans lower down his hips. “Listen, o-once you put your mouth on me… I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“Mmm, stop what?” You innocently bat your lashes at him, gently flicking your tongue against his reddened head.

“To stop fucking your throat.” Eddie’s mouth falls ajar as soon as he feels you take him in. “I just… crap, I can’t help it. Just no self-control… please, let me fuck it? Yeah? Is that okay?” He whimpers. “Oh, you’re such a good girl, Y/N. Giving me all I-I want… fuck, can’t wait to get my hands on you…” Spit dribbles from your chin as you gag around him, feeling his dick poke against the back of your throat while he places his hands on either side of your head. “Look at you, baby. On your knees in the middle of t-the fucking forest… patiently waiting to have your entire mouth stuffed… s’what good girls do, don’t they?”

You scratch at the tattoos on his thighs as he gives one hard thrust into your face, nearly doubling back from the sudden force. Breathe. Just breathe through it. His cock isn’t necessarily too thick, but the length — god, he could split you open.

Eight inches, curve angling to the left, you can literally feel him prodding and poking at the inside of your cheek. Your fingers are curling against his skin, pornographic sounds erupting from the both of you as Eddie guides your head up and down his dick.

“Oh… little witch,” He chuckles devilishly, wiping the tears away from your eyes as he gently inches his cock further into your mouth. Sadist. “Don’t cry, it’s supposed to feel good. You like this, don’t you? God, what would all our classmates say if they walked in on this right now?” You nearly yelp as he pushes himself deeper into you, your knees giving out from under you so that you’re sat upright against the tree. “The super intelligent, super hot, senior class president… getting her mouth f-fucked by the resident freak… oh, just imagine the drama.”

Your legs are crudely spread open, dress covered in dirt and leaves as Eddie continues thrusting into your throat. All you can smell is him. All you can think about is Eddie Munson. How embarrassingly satisfying this all feels — just as much for you as for him.

“Fuck, Y/N. Your mouth is just… Christ, you’re perfect, aren’t you? Perfect thing. Perfect throat. Probably with an even better pussy… the things I wanna do to you. F-Fuck’s sake, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that, sweetheart.” He quickly pulls away, and it’s absolutely pathetic how you instinctively chase after his cock with your tongue until he’s tugging you up onto your feet. “Pretty girl, oh, look at you… wish you could see how messy you look right now. So fucking hot, so fucking dirty, you are.”

“E-Eddie…” You whimper as his teeth pinch at your collarbones, marking the tops of your breasts until he’s grown feral at the sight of his hickies on your skin. His dick is hard against your thigh, and only then are you reminded of how your cunt is helplessly throbbing at the sight of it. “Please, I… please, need you inside m-me…”

His hand roughly grasps at your chin.

“Yeah? Aw, you’re a needy thing, aren’t you? Such a filthy mouth for a good little slut…” He chuckles, mirroring your pout as his grip tightens. “Maybe we should wash it out, hm? All this flattery is just getting to my head. Come on. Say, ah.”

“Ah…” You moan as he spits onto your tongue, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lips together before he’s pulling you in for another heated kiss. His hands are bruising, his fingers cruel, his touch burning. “Please, Eddie…”

“Please what?”

“Please touch my — my…”

He smirks lustfully, brushing the moisture away from your lashes. “Oh, your pussy? Anything for you, sweetheart.” You yelp as he suddenly turns you around, cock twitching against your clothed ass. He pushes against you, walking you over to the rickety picnic table until you’re bent over the edge. “Boutta treat you so well, Y/N. Just relax for me. Gonna put my fingers inside you, is that cool?” You nod wordlessly, splinters digging into your palms as Eddie flips up your dress, hissing at the sight of your exposed cunt. “No… no panties, huh? Seriously? Fuck, you’re gonna kill me. Such a pretty ass… pretty holes…” He groans, swiping his thumb over your clit. You jolt at the sensation, shoulders heaving as he quickly swirls it over your entrance. “You’re so wet and already so sensitive… s’driving me insane. How am I ever gonna last?”

You cry out when he pushes his middle finger into you, juices squelching around his rings as he slowly fucks the nimble digit in and out of your sopping pussy. “F-Fuck, Eddie… I… feels so g-good, baby.”

“Yeah? Baby, huh? Love hearing you talk me through it. Tell me, have you always fantasized getting fingered out here? That’s a little sick in the head, don’t you think? And they call me a freak…” You glance at him over your shoulder, moaning unapologetically as he adds another finger. “Mmm, alright, you’re getting a bit loud. Fuck, you want that party to catch us? Catch us making a mess of each other back here… making each other feel so, so good?”

You knew Eddie had a dark, dirty side to him. There was no way he didn't have one, especially when he’d come to school dressed like that — chains on display for girls and guys to gawk at, rings decorating his fingers like they were his favorite asset.

Yeah. He’s just as fucked in the head, maybe even more.

You’re just glad you get to be the one to experience it.

“I don’t care. Let them hear us… fuck — it’s just…. oh, god… your fingers are just… they fill me so well. Just imagine your… your cock inside me, just wrecking my cunt, until I can’t take it anymore.” Eddie grabs you by the throat, letting his hand fall to your breasts and stomach as you fuck yourself on his fingers. “Oh, please, please, please!”

“Are you gonna cum? God, you’re having so much fun right now, you can’t even speak. Answer me, baby.” He cooes, the tip of his cock pressing against the sore cheek of your ass.

You screw your eyes shut, zeroing in on the pulsing pressure in your cunt. “Y-Yes! If you keep — if you keep touching me like that, I’m gonna…”

“No, you aren’t. You’re not gonna cum for me just yet.”

“But…”

“Nu-uh, no, no cumming.” Eddie’s mouth hovers over your ear. “Good girls cum when they're supposed to. Don’t change up on me now, Y/N. You’ve been doing so well.”

“I’m s-sorry, I can’t… can’t hold it…” You let out a strangled grunt when his fingers dig into your pulse points, fully constricting your airway as he hooks an arm around your stomach and pulls you to his chest. “Eddie, please. Wanna — wanna cum for you, just this once, an exception…”

“An exception? Sweetheart, I don’t even know you.” His eyes nearly roll back into his skull when your ass desperately grinds against him, your hand coming to rest back on his thigh as he subconsciously rocks against your shivering frame. “Fuck, but I guess I-I can try to get to know you, make it worth my while… an exception, tonight only. S’okay, Y/N. You can cum for me. Cum all you want, as hard as you need to.”

As soon as your thighs quiver around his hand, he lets go of your throat, using his now-free one to circle over your clit. You hadn’t even realized he’d been using three fingers to fuck your cunt — shit, when did that ever happen?

His mouth is hot against the slope of your shoulder, mirroring your mewls as you come undone all over his rings and knuckles. The heavy silver drips with your juices, slick coating the soft heel of his palm and the shuddering tip of Eddie’s aching cock. Your face is glazed over, chest rising and falling deeply as you collapse over the edge of the table in pure bliss.

“Fuck… fuck, that was so… good…” Eddie turns you in your hands, hoisting you up on the surface and barely giving you time to recover before you feel something slip between your folds. “Oh!” His thick head splits you open, a satisfying sting running through your body as he bottoms out and molds himself against your front. “E-Eddie!”

“I’m sorry. I know, I know it’s a lot for you, sweetheart…” He cups his hand over your mouth, muffling your sobs as he stills inside you. “Feels good though, yeah? Fuck, I can feel you squeezin’ me — holy shit, baby. Is this what you wanted? Is this your — your definition of Halloween tradition… getting your pussy filled up with my cock? You love it. You fucking love it, I can tell. I just couldn’t wait to have you… and it’s everything I-I could’ve ever dreamed of.”

“S’big, s’too big, Eds…”

“Hey, I got you…” He whispers, cradling your jaw in his palm. His warm, big eyes meet yours, a comforting brown lulling you into a trance as he thumbs at your lip. He leans in to kiss you, mouth slow and patient against yours as you gasp into him. “Gonna t-take care of you, promise. You’re gonna look so… so fucking hot with my… cum just drippin’ out…”

Eddie jerks his cock into you, before thrusting the rest of his length inside without forewarning. You cry out, vision blurring as he picks your witch hat off of the empty bench and places it on your head. “There we go, little witch… scream all you want, cry all you want… they won’t h-hear you…” Eddie pants out, purring as you reach under his shirt and run your nails down his toned stomach. “Not when they’re — fuck, blasting that awful fucking music…

“E-Eddie! Holy f-fucking shit!”

“Oh, such a shame they won’t hear all the pretty noises we make together.”

Your legs wrap around his hips, boots digging into the fabric of his cape as he fucks you hard into the creaking table. He rests his forehead to yours, nudging your nose with a sudden and sweet tenderness that has your walls fluttering around his prick.

Eddie Munson is ruthlessly fucking you in the forest.

And he’s fucking you hard.

Your hat is falling into your face. His lean arms are the only thing keeping you upright, the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and pornographic moans filling the woodsy atmosphere. His cock pounds into your g-spot over and over again, thrusts sloppy and amateur as Eddie rests your ankles onto his shoulders for better access to your cunt.

Sure, you got up to bad things on Halloween… but this? This certainly takes the cake.

It’s absolute filth — with his long hair sticking to your sweaty skin, the stench of wet soil fighting Eddie’s musky cologne, the slick between your thighs as you cum for a second time around his length, milking him to his very-much-needed orgasm.

You can’t tell if it’s a grunt or a sob or a moan, but Eddie buries the noises against your tender neck, hips bucking lazily as he finally releases his spill into your pussy. He stutters and pulsates inside you, the angry head of his cock throbbing as he comes down from his high.

“Jesus, M-Mary, and Ozzy…” Eddie sighs out, whimpering while you lay back against the table and wipe the runny mascara away from your eyes. His own eyeliner is smudged too — almost a little too racoon-y for his liking — but it doesn’t matter.

Doesn’t matter when his cum is seeping out of your cunt and onto the wooden tabletop beneath you. Doesn’t matter when he watches you physically shake from your orgasm and takes in the sight of your bloodied knees.

Definitely doesn’t matter when you glance down at him and give him the prettiest fucked-out smile he’s ever seen.

Yeah, that’s for sure staying ingrained in his head.

“Fucking hell.” You breathe out, biting the nail of your thumb as Eddie gently nudges his seed back into your pussy with his fingers, obviously distracted. “Hey.”

How could he make such a dirty act seem absolutely innocent?

He shyly returns the grin, pulling his boxers and jeans up before he’s wrestling with the chains around his belt buckle. “Hey, you.”

“Help me up?” You stick your palm out, mirroring the same manner of the handshake you had given him in your first twenty seconds of speaking to each other. Eddie effortlessly pulls you off of the table, keeping a cautious arm around your waist when your legs start to wobble beneath you. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

You take note of the way his nose lingers by the top of your head, inhaling your scent with a sudden yearning that makes your heart quicken when you bump against his chest.

Awkward clearings of throats, shy double takes and silent gazes at each other as you fix your wild appearances. Eddie’s unsure of what to say — goodbye? Farewell? Thank you? See you again?

God, would it be so lame if he wanted the last option?

But you beat him to it, syllables nervously strung together as you toy with his devil-horn headband in your hands. “Well, you, um, definitely lived up to tradition.”

“Did I now? Honestly just wondering how no one heard us.”

“Come on, it’s Halloween night in the middle of a haunted forest.” You blink up at him, fixing the rim of your witch hat as he peers down at you. “Have you ever seen a horror movie? You never go towards the screaming. It’s like the number one, all-time logical rule.”

Eddie waves a hand around, laughing comfortably at your presence of lightheartedness. “Oh, yeah. Never. For sure.” He huffs, glancing at his shoes before locking onto your soft eyes. His brain haywires at the sight of your doting expression, a contrast to the filthy-mouthed girl he had just been dealing with earlier. “Never.”

Snap out of it.

You clear your throat, dusting the front of your dress off as Eddie squares his shoulders and straightens his back. “So… then… I guess…”

He points at the dirt path leading to the party. “Right…”

“I’ll…”

“See you around?” He coughs out in a hopeful tone.

You don’t answer, just slowly stride past him with crunchy footsteps and a youthful smirk.

Then you’re suddenly turning on your heels and barrelling back to him, a warm hand cupping his jaw as you press a chaste kiss to his cheekbone. Eddie savors the moment, refusing to shut his eyes when you reach up on your tippy-toes and slip his horned headband back onto his mess of curls.

He looks at you as if you’ve just killed him. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Your stomach flutters. “Look, I enjoyed… tonight. And I… if ever you… you wanted to continue tradition…”

“Yeah?” He raises a brow.

“I mean, like… it doesn’t have to be yearly and it doesn’t have to be Halloween, but I…” You take a deep breath, letting your fingers trail down his jaw before your hand falls limp at your side. “I enjoyed. That’s it. And whenever you feel a bit… festive…” You exhale loudly, glancing away as Eddie tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just come looking for me.”

You’re being absolutely serious with him.

“Okay.”

“Good.” You turn back and make a beeline for the party, unable to hide the blossoming smile on your face when you hear the familiar hymn of Eddie’s voice abruptly calling out your name. “Yes?”

A glimmering object is tossed in your direction, landing in your palms as you instinctively reach out to catch it.

His lighter.

“Keep it. It’s all yours.”

Somehow, your grin widens even more. “I’ll see you around, then.”

Maybe Eddie Munson is a Halloween kind-of-guy. So, fuck Valentine’s, because he could get used to this. Used to you. Either way, he’s glad that he’s still got more game than Jeff and Gareth — not that he seriously doubted it in the first place, but the assurance is there.

Turns out the sexy, red gothic devil worked out for him in the end, anyways.

“See you around, little witch.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things oneshot

8K notes · View notes

2kmps · 18 days

Text

DARK POOL

aquatic monster x reader | 18+ | 2.8k

story summary; your granduncle explains that the noises at the bottom of the lighthouse and the missing chunk out of his leg are from swimming rats. you let him think you're a fool.

story warnings; some graphic depictions that some may consider gory, mentions of biting, mentions of rats, creature in captivity, explicit sexual content, double penetration (not safe), prose + detail heavy, implied breeding, not proofread.

if you enjoyed it, please reblog + interact!!

Granduncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.

He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.

It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.

“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”

You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.

“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”

Granduncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”

Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, granduncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.

Granduncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”

When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.

For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.

There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.

You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brought a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.

So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.

He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.

“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”

Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.

“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”

“No.”

He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.

You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.

He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.

“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”

With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.

There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.

He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.

The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.

It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.

So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.

His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.

“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.

Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.

“Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”

The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.

“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.

You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.

“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”

He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.

It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.

His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.

You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”

There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.

Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.

He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.

“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.

He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.

“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”

"Just—just don't hurt me.”

His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.

Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.

Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.

You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.

After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.

“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”

You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.

a/n: not my best work, but hopefully passable. it's really helpful when y'all reblog, so please do so!!!

I don't really have any comments on this because I'm starting over from zero on the long-fic of the aquatic monster story bc I hated what I had lmao.

anyway, please keep in mind that is a concept piece. chances are that none of this will be present in the actual long-fic. this just helps me to explore ideas and familiarize myself with characters.

340 notes · View notes

daleyeahson · 1 year

Text

Girl On Film | Perv!Eddie Munson x best friend reader

Summary: Eddie tries to catch a sneak peek of what it is his best friend gets up to when he’s not around. He’s thrown for a loop when he finds out that you’re more than happy to play into his little game.

Warnings: 18+ smut// minors go on and get outta here. Male masturbation, mentions of female nudity, hidden camera, cursing, use of y/n just a little bit but mainly pet names, praise and degrading kink. If I missed anything let me know!

Word count: 4.4k

next part

A/n: Also, this is my first time writing a fanfic, let alone something with some smut in it. Let me know what you liked & what I can work on but please be nice about it! Thank you guys for the support and I hope you enjoy this as much as I do! P.s. I made the mistake of typing this on the notes app on my phone and just copying it to here so that’s why the spacing is messed up I’m sorry. I’d retype it all but it’s almost 3am for me so I’m gonna have to pass on fixing it for now lmao my b y’all x

It was Friday and you, Robin, and Nancy had all left to go have a girls night out. It wasn’t very often that the three of you had spare time to hang out all together, so when the girls called you last minute saying to hurry and get ready, you didn’t think much of it. You rushed to get dressed after hanging up the phone, throwing clothes all across your room in hopes of finding your favorite pair of jeans and whatever t-shirt you could get your hands on. Having just enough time to put your hair up in a somewhat cute ponytail and slipping your shoes on, you made your way out the door as Nancy and Robin pulled up to your place. You were so excited to hang with the girls again that you didn’t even give a heads up to your best friend, Eddie Munson.

You and Eddie had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Growing up and living across from one another, you two had always been very close. When you were younger, you both would take turns on having a sleepover at one another’s place, and you still do. Having graduated from high school, you moved out of your parents home and into your very own apartment. Eddie still lived with his uncle Wayne since he was still in school and was now in his third year as a senior. Eddie was super excited when you told him you had gotten the apartment and even joked about coming over all the time to annoy you, as if you didn’t see each other almost 24/7 as is. You had laughed it off thinking he was just joking, but he wasn’t. He came over more often than not, which didn’t bother you a bit since you genuinely enjoyed his company, and eventually you just decided to have him a key made so he could come and go as he pleased.

Which brings us to now, Eddie making his way over to your place just like he does any other day. Even though he knew he’d see you tomorrow for your sleepover, he still wanted to hang out with you and just talk about his day. He loved how you would listen to him talk about whatever it was he needed to say, whether it be about school or the newest thing that’s happening in his Hellfire campaign despite you not understanding a word of what he’s talking about. All throughout your lives you’ve always been there for him for whatever he needed. It was one of the many things he loved about you. Your love and support for him is what slowly made him fall for you and here recently he’s been having trouble keeping you off of his mind. The last few years he’s been able to bury those feelings for his best friend, but with all of this extra time you two have been spending together, he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out without doing something. He doesn’t want to scare you away or ruin your friendship by confessing his feelings. He doesn’t know if you feel the same way about him and he can’t bare the thought of not having you in his life, even if you remain only best friends. So with that, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and jerks off to you most nights. Is that really the next best thing? No, definitely not. Does he still do it? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Eddie pulls up to your apartment and steps out of his van. He makes his way to your door and reaches for his key to let himself in. It’s quiet, which he finds odd since usually you’d at least have music playing in the background or something.

“Y/N?” He says stepping into the place and closing the door behind him. “Hello? You here?”

He makes his way down the hall to your bedroom only to find it a mess and you not in it. “Huh, that’s weird.” he thinks to himself.

He didn’t expect you to be gone without letting him know first. Not that you have to tell him, but he’s so used to you doing it anyway that it puzzles him that you hadn’t said anything. Maybe you had and he just forgot. With all that’s been going on in his head lately, he wouldn’t be surprised if you did tell him you had plans and he just wasn’t paying attention. He walks further into the room and takes a look around not really knowing what to do. He must’ve just missed you because he notices the candle you always have burning was still melted and had yet to harden back again. He turns to leave and as he does something catches his eye. Right there out in the middle of your floor there it was.. a pair of black lace panties. Eddie instantly blushes when he sees it and can’t help but think about you in them, or the opposite since here they are laying here on the floor. His mind wonders to the thought of you stripping from them while changing before you left. Tossing them off to the side and standing in the same spot he was but nude from at least the waist down. Eddie would give anything, do anything to be able to see you like that. He wanted it so badly. He needed it. He just didn’t know how exactly he would get it though, until it hit him. He has a camcorder somewhere in his van that Wayne gave to him years ago. He’s never had a reason to use it, but this sure was a damn good one.

He runs to the van and opens up the back. Like a mad man, he starts going through all of the junk he has in there. After a minute or so of searching he starts to get frustrated.

“God damn, where the hell is it? Why do I have so much shit in here?” He curses at himself wishing he didn’t keep things so messy. Finally finding it, he picks it up and smirks. “Aha, gotcha.”

He hurries back inside and into your room. Instantly, he starts to look around for a spot to hide the camcorder. After searching for a bit, he notices a shelf where you had some of your old stuffed animals on display. “Perfect.” He says as he makes his way over to it.

It really is the perfect spot for such a thing. From that angle he’s able to see almost your entire room, apart from the doorway. He doesn’t mind though, thinking there’s no way you would change clothes right in the doorway anyhow, so it wasn’t a big deal if he couldn’t see that part. He doesn’t turn it on just yet. He plans on waiting until he’s here during the sleepover so that the next morning he can grab it and leave before you have a chance to notice it.

Once he has the camera hidden, he makes his way out the apartment for the last time. Getting into his van he can’t help but feel guilty. He knows he shouldn’t be doing such a thing, but the growing bulge beneath his zipper says otherwise. There’s no way you’d know about it, right? He made sure you couldn’t see the camera from any part of your room, or at least he thought he did.

He makes his way back home and as soon as he gets inside he makes a beeline to his room to take care of his situation. Just the thought of him possibly having a chance of seeing you like that for real has him making a mess all over himself. Afterwards, he cleans up and decides to go to the living room to watch tv and have a beer or two. He figures he would just try calling you in a few hours to see if you made it home alright and to see where you went.

******

It’s about 10:30 at night before you make it home. The three of you would’ve stayed out later if Robin didn’t have work early in the morning. You make your way inside and take your shoes off at the door. Heading straight for your bedroom, you start to take your hair out of the ponytail. Instantly feeling that sweet sensation of having it down after keeping it pulled up for hours on end. The kind of relief that hurts just a little bit but feels so good at the same time.

You search your drawers to find some pjs to slip into then start to make your way to the bathroom. Just as you’re about to go in there, your phone rings.

“Hello?” You say hesitantly, not expecting anyone to be calling this late.

“Hey, sweetheart, where ya been?”

Eddie. You had forgotten to tell him you were leaving this evening. You felt guilty thinking he must’ve been worried about you not knowing where you went last minute.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you but it just slipped my mind. Robin and Nancy called and told me to hurry and get ready so we could have a girls night.”

“There’s no need to be sorry, I promise.” He reassures you. “I’m glad you got to go have fun with them. I know it’s been a while since you last had a girls night. Are you just getting in?”

“Yeah..” you said with a sigh, tired from the night you just had, “I was actually about to get a shower right before you called.”

Eddie has to stop himself from audibly moaning once you said that. He can’t help but think about how if he hadn’t called, you’d be in the shower all hot and steamy. Soap running down your body and between your breasts. Eddie finds himself fumbling over his words like a fool when he tries to speak again.

“Oh- well I-uh - don’t let me keep you waiting.” He chuckles. “I’m sure you’re wanting to hurry and get that over with before you have to go clean up the mess of clothes in your room, right?”

“Oh..” you say feeling slightly embarrassed that he saw the mess you had left in a hurry. “..you saw that?” Usually, you tried to keep things somewhat clean when he came over, not that he would mind because lord knows he shouldn’t be one to judge, you just didn’t want him to see things in such a big mess like that.

“Oh- uh- yeah, I did. I came by to hang out but I must’ve just missed you.” He laughs, “Don’t worry though, I didn’t stay long so whatever you may have laying about in your room, my eyes did not see a thing. Scouts honor.”

You couldn’t help but blush at the suggestive comment he made. The idea of Eddie thinking you’d have anything like that brought a familiar feeling to your core. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve felt like this because of Eddie or something he’s said. You two were very close so it was only a matter of time before one of you caught feelings for the other. What you didn’t know what that he felt the same way about you, as you did him. Yeah, Eddie would flirt with you but he was always the charming type. He was like that with almost everybody. Sure he called you cute pet names, but you just thought it was because of how close you two were. Just something best friends did, right?

“Eddie, first of all, you weren’t a scout, and second of all, even if I did have anything like that, I sure as hell wouldn’t leave it out in the open for just anybody to see.”

“Just anybody?” He said with pretend jealously, “who else has a key to get into your place?”

“You’re the only one, but with that big mouth of yours I’m sure if you did find something, everyone in this town would know about it by morning.”

Eddie gasp. “You’ve wounded me, princess. Truly, you have. I’m glad you think so highly of me to believe I’d stoop so low as to share such personal information with the common folk of this kingdom.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatic he can be and decided to play into his little game. “If you live to see the morning light, I shall see you then for our annual weekend festivities, but for now I must say goodbye, Sir Munson, for this ass will not wash itself, unfortunately.”

Eddie let out a loud hearty laugh at that statement. “Alright, I guess I’ll let you go take care of that. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, Eddie, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Morning…Right. He’d be coming back over early in the morning so you guys could fix breakfast together to start the day just like you always did. Eddie couldn’t help but get nervous thinking about how far into the future that was. It was 11pm now and he usually comes by around 9am. Ten hours. Anything could happen in that amount of time. What if you found the camcorder? What would you say? What would you do? Would you never speak to him again? He knew he’d never be able to sleep with those questions floating around his mind. So he laid there in bed, wide awake. Ten hours, he reminded to himself, all he had to do was wait ten hours.

******

Somehow, Eddie managed to get around 4 hours of sleep that night. He was never one to willingly get up this early, especially on the weekend but for you he’d do just about anything. He got out of bed and took a quick shower to help wake him up some more. Throwing on his usually attire, he makes his way out the door and to his van, deciding against a morning coffee knowing you’d fix some once he got there.

Eddie pulled up to your apartment once again and slowly made his way over to the door. Before he could reach for his key, you opened the door and greeted him in a very enthusiastic manner.

“Good morning, sunshine! Are you ready to get this party started?”

“Y/n, please, you know I can’t get excited about the day without coffee first.”

“I swear, sometimes it’s like I’m best friends with someone’s southern grandpa. My own little personal peepaw.” You joked but it only made him send a glare over to you. He really wasn’t a morning person at all. “I’ve already got a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“You truly are the best…I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He says as he walks by you towards the kitchen to pour himself a cup.

You closed the door and followed behind him making your way to the fridge. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.. so..” you said as you opened it, “what do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? Waffles? We could just have cereal if you want that instead.”

“Could we have French toast again?” Eddie asks walking up towards you, coffee in hand. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the last time we had it.”

Your back was to Eddie so you hadn’t realized just how close he had gotten. As you turn to face him so you could answer his question, you accidentally bump into him causing him to spill some of his coffee down your shirt.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelled while trying to hurry and pinch your shirt so the coffee wouldn’t burn you.

“Sweetheart, I- I am so sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, it’s okay” you put your other hand on his shoulder to try and stop him from panicking, “it was my fault anyway I bumped into you. Don’t worry about it, really, it’s not a big deal. And to answer your question, yes we can have French toast again, but we need to get eggs first.”

“Uh- y-yeah sure. I can run and get them real quick.”

“That’s fine with me. While you go do that, I’ll go get a shower and change out of these clothes.” You said as you headed off to the bathroom.

Suddenly Eddie didn’t feel as bad as he did before about the coffee. It was like the universe itself was helping him with his mission. This was it, his one chance. Once he heard you start the shower, he hurries into your room. Making his way over to the camcorder hidden away, he turns it on and presses the record button. “Jesus H. Christ please let this work” he mutters to himself. With that he leaves to make his way to the grocery store and tries to keep his mind busy, thinking of anything other than what’s happening back at the apartment.

Eddie comes back with the eggs and your morning routine is back on track. You fix breakfast together like always and just spend the day hanging out. You didn’t do much during these sleepovers, but you both still enjoyed the quality time together. By the end of the night, you found yourselves cuddled up on the couch watching a few movies you had on hand. You had fallen asleep on Eddie, your back to his chest. He somehow manages to get out from under you without waking you, and he carries you into your room. Laying you down on the bed, he covers you up with the blanket and makes sure you’re still in a deep sleep before he walks over to the shelf with your stuffed animals. He reaches over and turns the camcorder off and forms a mental note to himself to make sure he’s up before you are so he can somehow sneak it back out to his van. Eddie climbs into the bed to lay next to you. Sharing the bed is something you always did even as children growing up so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. While in a deep sleep, you turn over to face Eddie and snuggle right up to him. He wishes you two could stay like this forever and not just on Saturdays when you have sleepovers.

*****

The next day you both wake up closer to noon rather than super early like before. Of course Eddie didn’t wake up earlier than you, who does he think he is? He’s thankful that you get up and head to the bathroom and as soon as the door closes, Eddie jumps up to grab his camcorder, practically running to his van and back in hopes of not getting caught. When he comes back in, he jumps at the sight of you standing there across the room from him.

“Whatcha doin’ big boy?” You say standing in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of water.

“I-uh- went for a smoke.”

“With your cigarettes on the table the whole time?”

Shit. Shit shit shit. He was starting to freak out. He had to come up with something quick.

“Not that kind of smoke, princess.”

“Ah, gotcha.” You finished your drink and turned to set the glass in the sink before returning your attention back to Eddie. “So, do you wanna go get something to eat? Lunch at the diner maybe? I’m starving.”

Eddie couldn’t let you in his van knowing what was sitting in the passenger seat. He didn’t have time to hide it in the back again and he knew you’d race and beat him to the van if he agrees to go out.

“Uh, no not this time. I- I actually have to leave.”

“Leave? Why?”

“Wayne needs me. Yeah, uh he’s got this thing he’s been working on and he told me the other day that he would need my help today with it so um, I should get going.”

With a confused look on your face you stare at him suspiciously. The longer you take to say something the more he feels like he’s going to have a heart attack right here in the middle of your apartment. Finally, after what feels like forever to him, you say something.

“Yeah, sure, okay.. um, well I guess I’ll see you around then? Call me tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes, of course I will.”

Eddie leaves your place in a hurry and speeds back home. He can’t believe he just did that. The thrill of it all. He gets home and rushes inside. Going straight to his room and setting up the tape to play, he sits on his bed with his back to the headboard. He was already semi hard on the drive home, just thinking about what was waiting for him on that tape.

After a few minutes, he could hear your bedroom door open on the video. It took you a second to come into the frame but when you did, Eddie thought he had died and went to heaven. There you were, in nothing but a towel, water still dripping from your hair and making its way down your body. He starts to palm himself over his jeans making him hiss at the physical touch he so craved.

“Shit.. oh fuck…”

Things had just started and he was already a whimpering mess. A small wet patch forming on his jeans just from what little bit he saw of you. He couldn’t take it any longer, needing to feel more he took his jeans and boxers off. His cock springing up to his stomach as he groaned, finally feeling some relief. He spit in his hand and started stroking himself, gathering up his precum from the head as he watched you walk around your room looking for new clothes to wear.

Once you found an outfit, you laid it on the bed and began to dry yourself off. Your back was to the camcorder as you removed your towel. Your bare ass was on display for Eddie now and he tries his best not the cum at the sight of it.

“Oh god, baby, fuck you’re so beautiful.”

Every once in a while he catches a glimpse of some side boob but he grows impatient wanting to see more. Speeding up his fist, he becomes a blabbering mess as he tries to find his release.

“Shit, oh my god look at you. Just look at you. You’re so god damn beautiful. Fuck, you’re being so good for me, baby. Letting me see you like this? Sticking that ass out for me? God you’re so fucking good. So, so, good.”

He stops for a second to spit some more on his cock and then resumes the same pace he had before. At this point of the video, you had dried off and discarded your towel, but was still standing there fully nude for him.

Throwing his head back, he started to beg even more. “Oh fuck, princess, I’m getting so close. So fucking close.. please turn around for me baby. Please please please, I need to see you. All of you.”

Eddie knew you couldn’t hear him, but that didn’t stop him from saying it. He looks back up at the screen and suddenly, as if you had actually heard him, you turn your head slightly over your shoulder and he swears you were looking straight into the lens of the camcorder. Before he could process what was happening, you spoke.

“Be patient, Eddie, you’re not the only one who gets to have fun with this.”

Eddie instantly froze, hand not moving but still holding his cock. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? No, there’s no way you actually said that.

You turned around and Eddie let out a moan. Seeing you fully nude, your cunt on display right in front of him. He wanted to cum so bad. He needed to cum.

You start to feel yourself up looking directly at him. He starts to jerk himself off again at the sight of it all.

“Oh, you’re so dirty. Such a filthy little slut for me. I take back what I said about you being good. You are bad, very bad, sweetheart.”

Eddie could feel himself inching closer to his orgasm with every pump of his fist, his breathing gets heavy as he chases his release.

“Fuck, oh fuck, just like that baby, keep playing with those pretty tits of yours. Shit, oh- oh my god I’m gonna cum baby, I’m gonna fucking cum. You gonna let me cum all over those tits, hm? Ohhhh shit.”

Just as he’s about to cum he hears a noise come from the video causing him to pause what he’s doing yet again. The sound of your front door opening and suddenly a voice. His voice.

“Princess? I got the eggs! I’m gonna get started on breakfast, okay?”

You call out to him, “Yeah, okay, I’ll be out in a minute!”

You made your way closer to the camcorder and looked directly into it. At this point Eddie knew for sure he had been caught and wasn’t just imagining things.

“Looks like you just cockblocked yourself.. let’s see if you’ll have the guts to finally make a move in person. If not, I guess we’ll just have to wait until next weekend, yeah?”

You turn to go put your clothes on before quickly turning back. “Oh and by the way, next time you want to sneak and record someone, make sure there isn’t a big red light coming from the camera.” And with that you winked and started getting dressed.

Eddie sat there for a second, mouth hanging open in disbelief before quickly putting a pair of sweats on and grabbing his keys. He’ll be damned if he waits a whole week before making a move now after that stunt you just pulled.

******

Wanna join my taglist? Click here

#sorry this took so long #I hope you like it omg #perv!eddie #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn smut #joe quinn #st4 #stranger things #ralph timewasters #mechanic!eddie munson #professor quinn #ghostface!eddie

3K notes · View notes

bambiziip · 2 months

Text

riize reaction — interrupting them with a kiss

pairing : established relationship with ot7 riize x gn! reader

genre : fluff & a bit of humor! (debatable if actually funny or not but)

warnings : just kissing and alluding to making out lol

a/n : hii this is my first time writing in like a couple years nowskffkf but i hope you like it. i kinda don’t love it but riize got me back into kpop so just wanted to write a little something for them all! i hope you enjoy, leave a trace if you did!! also my ask box is open if you have any requests for more reactions mwah

song i listened to on loop while writing this :

— SHOTARO

he’s stressing!! cb in the spring means he wants to work on choreo again for the grp

it’s technically a break day but you wanted to see taro in action today

what’s better than seeing him dance <33

he’s finally taken a break, sliding onto the couch next to you where you laid

you immediately sat up, criss-cross applesauce, and pulled on his sleeve just to hold

before you can get a word out to ask how he’s feeling, taro starts ranting about the feel of the cb song

how he doesn’t know if this cb his choreo will stick and all

he’s soo in his own head, he’s really just talking to the void trying to get his thoughts out

taro tends to get like this when he’s stressed, rambly but only with you he actually gets the words out

with you leaning forward, he turns just at the right moment as you give him a small peck on the lips

his mouth immediately quirks up at you and he says, “damn i was rambling again, huh?”

you giggle and push at his chest, “you can ramble all you want to!! it’s just… your lips get all pouty and i can’t help it.”

before he starts the song again, you make sure to poke his lips and give another kiss - for good measure of course

— EUNSEOK

you love eunseok so much, you really do

if you were to set the scene, it’s lovely

you’re cuddled up to your smokeshow boyfriend, under the covers after a long day and you can finally rest

scratch that - eunseok managed to binge watch the latest season of the anime he had been watching today

for the past 10 minutes eunseok’s been ranting about the ending - he wasn’t satisfied with it

“and then they just never made up! can you believe it? the two main characters, friends since birth and they just cut it off for no real reas-“

in less than 5 seconds, you had rested your thumb on eunseok’s chin slightly bringing his bottom lip down and you give him a long kiss

to essentially shut him up, yes! and did!

after breaking apart and mischievously smiling at his dumbfounded face, you just squeezed his arm and he snapped out of the daze

“y/n, you could have told me you wanted to kiss, i’ll just have to tell you about the other arcs later, huh?”

you laughed as you let him wrap your arms around you secure again, “kiss later, sleep now??”

— SUNGCHAN

sungchan really isn’t that dramatic, you swear

he’s currently curled up on the couch with you, laying on his back, with his head resting against your leg scrolling through his phone

you? you’ve been trying to finish this book for the past week and finally have the chance to just chill and do so with your boyfriend also assumingly chilling

except…. sungchan huffs for the 3rd time in the past 60 seconds

oh boy

you can’t help but chuckle and run a hand through his hair after putting your book down, “what’s up channie?”

sungchan tilts his heads to make eye contact as if he’s surprised you asked, not like he was looking for attention at all! (lol)

“nothing baby, i just,” he pauses to turn himself over to lay on his stomach and look at you, “not sure, pretty much your boyfriend took too many pictures and i’m only allocated one post thread today… how will i pick??”

you bite on your bottom lip trying not to laugh at him, the seriousness coming through in his tone as he continued to scroll through pics

you open your mouth to semi make fun of him but he continues on, even turning the phone for you to see just how many photos he took

“channie.”

he looks up abruptly, yup he was in his own world talking, but before he can do anything else you lean in and peck his lips

he smiles, sitting up slightly more and pecking you back

“alright, i’ll ask if i can have two posts today, now c’mere”

you dramatically gasp, “but my book!”

“give me 5 minutessss y/n,” he pouts and the book isn’t in your mind anymore tbh… what book?

— WONBIN

currently your view is of wonbin’s back, it’s nice, he has a cute shirt on

you’ll probably steal it later, shh don’t tell him

speaking of clothes, wonbin has his back turned to you as he pushes back loads of his tops on hangers huffing a bit

“bin, you know it’s just meeting my family and not milan fashion week?” you can’t help but chuckle by the end of your sentence

wonbin dramatically gapes at you as he spins around, cute denim jacket (if you do say so yourself) hanging over his forearm as he walks up to where you are sitting on the edge of his bed

“y/nnnn,” he elongates your name with a tinge of a whine to his voice, “this is serious i want to make a good impression, i can’t be looking stupid to people so close to you! it’d be… i’d never live it down!”

you shake your head, trying to hold a laugh in

honestly it’s really sweet wonbin cares so much you knowww it is, he’s so cute

he opens his mouth to go on another rant on how serious this before you prop yourself up and kiss him, placing your hand on his arm to hold yourself from where you’re sitting

wonbin even leans slightly down to accommodate you, yes he’ll take the kiss

once you break apart, you grin at him as it clicks you just wanted him to shut up and pick an outfit

“i’m going i’m going! i’m choosing…”

— SEUNGHAN

seunghan lovessss taking pictures of you after a date, he has a whole photo album just ask to see it and he’ll show

almost all of the pictures are you near the beach or near some bench as you always end up near a pier in the evenings that you can

“baby! and now you lean behind the bench !” seunghan says in delight like it’s his job to think of new poses

you try not to bust out in laughter at his enthusiasm looking around, “hani, there’s only so many poses i can do here.”

truthfully you love it and seunghan needs to never change, he’s your number one hype man for goodness sake

a few seconds go by and he pouts in thought, “okay we need a new angle, let me crouch down” and he takes a few shots of you giggling at him with a big smile on his own face

once seunghan stands back up, and he starts swiping through everything to add to his folder, you come around from the back of the bench and stand in front of him

loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, nonverbally demanding his attention, he looks up as you lean in to press a kiss to his lips

he kisses back, never the one to really shy away from pda, but he is the one to break the kiss

“well just tell me if you want to make out with the photographer!” he says sorta loudly, causing you to laugh once again rolling your eyes

— SOHEE

sohee loves debriefing his day with youuuu!

one would maybe not think it but as stories pile up from the day, he looks forward to telling you at the end of the day (so freaking cute)

currently you both are in the kitchen, you sitting on the edge of the counter

he’s in an animated reenactment of when sungchan hid shotaro’s phone for the bit in their variety show and sohee was dying to tell the eldest

you’re nodding along to everything with a small smile on your face

honestly you love how cute he is when he gets like this into retelling a story just for you

“i didn’t tell him though, told myself the fans would like the prank carried out and all,” he grinned at you as he walked to the counter you were sitting on leaning near you

“and then-“

you ruffle the top of his head through his soft hair, moving his head gently towards you lovingly pressing a kiss onto his lips cutting him right off

once you break apart, (sohee hardly breaks apart your kisses… the loverboyism) sohee’s looking at you kinda dazed

“alright that was better than my stories.. another?”

— ANTON

anton is sooo sweet

whenever he can, and he sees your coursework laid out on the table he tries to help even if he’s not too sure on the topic

he always compliments you too, calling you the smartest partner in the world

today though, he looked the cutest, he had pushed his glasses up against his hair somewhat holding it back

“jeez this is confusing, it’s telling you to do two things at once, babe.”

as he leaned over pointing to something on the paper in front of you, you couldn’t help but nudge his shoulder and kiss him out of nowhere, planting a sweet one right on his lips

he looked a bit dumbfounded when you broke apart from it, since he was clearly pretty into the coursework help

he smirked once he regained his composure sitting back in his seat, “what… you like the tutor vibe?”

you laughed and rolled your eyes, “you just looked cute, needed to remind you.”

“i’m glad im cute enough, ‘cause not sure if my smarts here are even going to save this class with you…. did you enroll in harvard level classes without me knowing?!”

#riize #riize reactions #riize reaction #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize headcanons #riize fluff #riize x reader

196 notes · View notes

ellieluvr420 · 3 months

Text

Friends? Never. Pt.5 (Ellie Williams x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

You had been strolling around the market looking for food to grab for you and Ellie for well over an hour now but you loved to walk and look at all the stalls and you easily spent 30 minutes in the fruit section alone, you had also spent too long looking at all the crafts Mabel had made. Mabel was a sweet elderly woman that always had a stall full of candles and jewellery, even makeup sometimes, she had always been so kind to you, slipping you little gifts whenever you'd visit. You were thinking to yourself about all the food you could make this week and what Ellie would want when you hear a familiar southern twang behind you.

"Hey kiddo, long time no see." You turn to see Joel's crooked smile as you face him and you find yourself returning it without a second thought despite the burning in your cheeks as you're faced with the man that witnessed so closely how you treated Ellie all those years ago. You were shocked he was talking to you but you remembered Ellie going round there for dinner one night last week so you thought maybe she had told him you were both okay now.

"Hi Joel, no kidding, how you been?"

"Same old, same old, how are you liking the new house?"

"Oh it's so beautiful, we've got the woods right behind us so there's no complaints about the view. Ellie's a pretty good roommate too I guess." You say jokingly and your heart flutters just a little when he joins you with a chuckle.

"Yeah she's told me a lot."

"She has? I would say good things I hope but I doubt it." Your tone is playful but you mean what you say.

"Are you kidding? She only has good things to say about you. I'm getting sick of listening to it to be honest. How about you both come over for dinner tonight and you can both annoy me instead of just her?" You're completely taken aback by his offer but the thought of having dinner with Joel makes you remember the dinner with your parents, it still plays on a loop in your head and all you want is to think of something different when you imagine dinner with parents so you agree before you even ask Ellie. You say your goodbyes and finish up at the market before starting a pleasant stroll back to your home.

As you get closer you notice Maria striding towards you. You're shocked by the sight because there's only about 3 houses within a close distance of where you are right now as you and Ellie live right on the outskirts of Jackson, but you smile at her anyway which she returns as she continues pacing towards her next destination.

Ellie had been rereading some of her favourite comics while you went out to the market until a knock at the door interrupts her. She knew it couldn't be you because you had a key and you also knew that Ellie never locked the door because you had scolded her for it many times so her interest piqued as she rushed towards the blurry figure she could see behind the pane of glass in the middle of the front door.

"Hi Ellie sorry to just stop by like this, can I come in?" Ellie freezes as she sees Maria standing before her with a smile that didn't often grace her face.

"Oh yeah, hi Maria, what's up?" She asks as she steps aside to let Maria in.

"I wanted to come talk to you both in person because there has been an opening in one of the flats so if either of you want to move out you can."

"Oh er well she's not here right now but I'll definitely tell her but me, I'm good here, I've unpacked now and I'm settled so I'm happy to stay."

"Are you two actually getting along?"

"Well we haven't killed each other yet."

"Well that's good to hear, anyway I've got to run, let her know to come talk to me if she wants to move okay?" She smiles and opens the door to let herself out again as Ellie waves her off. As soon as the door shuts she breathes a sigh of relief that you weren't here when Maria came over, she'd feel utterly defeated if after everything you moved out and away from her just like that but then she started to wonder if you would want to move out and if she should tell you and if you'd be mad if she doesn't tell you and you find out. The thoughts were overcrowding her head as she stands frozen in the entryway until the click of the doorknob tells her you're home and she immediately lurches at the door to swing it open for you.

"Oh! Jesus Ellie you scared me."

"Sorry I heard you at the door and I thought you might want help with the bags." Her voice breaks and you raise an eyebrow at her suspiciously.

"Oh because I'm so weak I can't bring everything through to the kitchen?" Your face is sour but your voice is playful.

"You are so annoying, I said if you want help not need it." She rolls her eyes and fights the smile threatening her lips.

"Oh well in that case, that would be lovely." You smile and place the bags in her arms before strutting off to the kitchen leaving her with all the food.

"Hey I said I would help not do it all for you!" She yells.

"Can't hear you!" You drag out the last word in a sing-song fashion that prompts her to roll her eyes and just accept defeat as she starts carrying the bags to where you were in the kitchen before placing them down on the small table where you both have breakfast most mornings.

"On my way back I saw Maria round here walking back to town. Did she come here?"

"Errrr" Ellie froze, she didn't know if she should lie and deal with the consequences later down the line or tell the truth and hope you feel the same way as her but there was not enough time as the look of confusion on your face grew so her instincts kicked in. "No, no she didn't. Must've been going to one of the others."

"Hm okay, she actually smiled at me when she walked past, how crazy is that? She hasn't smiled at me since me and you have been getting sent to her for fighting every other day."

"Ha yeah that is so weird." Ellie doesn't sound convinced, she knows that, but her heart is beating way too fast for her to care, she should've told the truth but she's dug the hole now, no going back.

"Oh um by the way I have a confession, I don't think you're gonna be happy about it."

"Oh great."

"Joel invited us both to dinner tonight at his and I kinda said yes." You smile sheepishly at her as her face drops.

"Seriously? Oh my god I'm gonna die."

"Oh come on, it won't be that bad."

"Whyyyyy did you say yes? You should've said we were busy."

"You know I can't lie to that man's face and besides this is as much on you as it is me."

"Excuse you?"

"If you hadn't been saying all those lovely things about me at dinner last time he wouldn't have approached me and invited me sooo..." You trail off and end your sentence with a sickly sweet grin as her face blushes and her jaw clenches.

"I am going to kill him." You giggle as she rolls her eyes and storms off before comically running back into the room. "What time did he say?"

"Six."

"Oh my god he is so old." You laugh as she storms off again like a child before unpacking everything you had got this morning.

"Hello! Come on in, you're actually on time, I assume this was down to you and not Ellie?" He eyes you and then Ellie as you giggle at her rolling her eyes for about the 50th time today already. She had been grumpy and whiny all day about going to Joel's and it only made you laugh more each time. He beckons you into the small cabin that he had moved into, it was similar to yours and Ellie's and not too far either but his had only one bedroom and no second floor, he moved when all the housing got changed because of the influx of new arrivals as his old house had 3 bedrooms and Ellie's garage that just weren't being used anymore. You think back to the times you had spent in Ellie's garage with her and it makes you sad at the thought of someone else living there and making it their own, you feel selfish for it but you don't care, you had the best memories from when you and her would hang out together there and now its not yours or even hers anymore.

“Ellie you know where everything is, get our guest a drink and you,” he looks at you with a cheeky smile knowing how it’s going to annoy Ellie. “come sit down and relax.” Another huff and eye roll from Ellie before she walks off to the kitchen.

You and Joel had been catching up and exchanging small talk while Ellie grabbed some drinks until she joined you.

“So how’s it been living together? I see Maria’s plan worked.” It was your turn to roll your eyes now.

“It’s been fine.” “Good.” You both blurt out at the same time before exchanging an annoyed look with each other.

“Oh come on, can you really not admit that you’re friends again?” There’s that word again that made Ellie’s heart clench a little, friends, it’s true but she still doesn’t like it.

“Not if it means proving Maria right.” Ellie crosses her arms and leans back into the squishy sofa you were both seated on.

“Yeah I just can’t do that.” You agree.

“You two are way too stubborn for your own good.”

“Look who’s talking.” Ellie snipes and he laughs before slapping his knees that popped as he stood before ushering you to the table.

“You sound like you’re getting old.” Ellie laughs.

“Shut up and sit down.” You reply.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” She whisper-yells at you.

“Since when?” You smirk at the displeased look on her face before sitting down as Joel brings out the pasta bake he had made and sets it down in front of you both.

“Joel this looks amazing, thank you so much!” Your mouth is actually watering at the sight of it and Ellie can’t help but smile at the childish excitement of your expression.

Dinner was perfect, the pasta bake was one of the nicest things you had eaten in awhile, neither you or Ellie being the best cooks, and Joel’s company was so refreshing you had almost forgotten about your previous dinner experience.

“I saw you chatting with your parents at the tipsy bison the other day. Glad to see they’ve come to their senses.” You don’t miss the glare Ellie shoots at him or the small thump under the table accompanied with a hiss from Joel. You pretend to not notice the obvious kick Ellie had delivered his way as you chuckle a little.

“Not quite actually, it’s okay though really. I’m happy with how things are at the moment.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes and Ellie’s face tells of the pity she feels towards you. You mouth ‘I’m fine’ to her and look back at Joel. “Really, it’s no biggie.”

“Oh well I’ll sorry anyway.”

“Thanks.” You recover from the awkward moment well and the rest of dinner went smoothly.

You’re standing in the kitchen helping Ellie tidy up, you had both already done the washing and drying so now you were just putting everything away. You were standing at the cupboard where the plates go and as you bent down to put them away Ellie reached over you to put a glass away above your head. You gasp as you feel Ellie’s hips pressing into you from behind and immediately snap up turning to face her. “Sorry.” You mutter.

She smirks and cocks her head as she grabs onto the counter on either side of you, boxing you in. “For what?” She leans in a little and you can smell the fresh scent of her body wash that always made her smell of washing that had been dried outside. You savour it before meeting her eyes that had a mischievous sparkle.

You can’t find any words, you weren’t really sure there was an answer to her question and even if there was, you certainly wouldn’t find the words now when her nose is brushing against yours as she ghosts her lips over yours that were taking quick, shuddering breaths. You search Ellie’s eyes and despite the proximity you can still see the uncertainty and insecurity that cast a film over them and knitted her eyebrows together. All Ellie wanted to do was lean in and close the gap but something was holding her back, maybe it was the shock on your face, or the possibility you might push her away, maybe she just wants you to be the one to make the first move, maybe she needs it after everything that’s happened between the both of you.

“All done tidying up?” Joel’s voice sounds as he walks into the kitchen causing you and Ellie to both jump away from each other like you were magnets that repelled when they got too close. None of you make eye contact, all standing staring at the floor in silence until Ellie clears her throat.

“Thanks for having us old man but we should probably get back. I’m okay but she needs her beauty sleep... bad.” She points a finger in your direction but shields it from you with her other hand as if you wouldn’t see.

“Well alright.” He leads you both to the door and as Ellie walks down the steps of the porch he turns to you in a hushed manner. “I know you’ve had it rough with your parents but I promise you’ll always be accepted here.” Tears brim in your eyes and all you can think to do is hug him, you squeezed him until his back clicked which prompted you to let him go with a small apology as he laughed.

The next morning you’re standing making a drink in the kitchen when Ellie walks in with her backpack and beat-up converse on.

“Hey I’ve gotta go on patrol but I should be back by five-ish I think. Wanna watch a movie when I’m back?”

“Yeah sounds good.” You smile and she returns it before moving to walk out the door. “Be safe!” You call out and she smiles at the sentiment although you can’t see.

“Always.” You roll your eyes knowing that is a complete lie but go back to your drink as you hear the door slam shut as it always does when Ellie is entering or exiting, she had always been so heavy-handed and it’s clear that’s still the case.

You were sitting trying to read your book but it had only been an hour since Ellie left and it was still 6 hours until she came back, and all you could think about was if she was okay and safe. The thoughts spiralled until your skin was crawling and a lump in your throat had appeared. You knew Ellie was good on patrol, she was one of the best, she hadn’t grown up in Jackson so she had the knowledge of the dangers of the real world far more engrained in her than most, yet you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, it was a feeling deep in your gut that made you feel nauseous and you just couldn’t shake it no matter how much you tried to rationalise with yourself.

The hours went by painfully slowly but five pm had finally rolled around and you were sitting expectantly on the sofa waiting for the signature slamming of the door against the wall to tell you she’s home. But it never came. Five turned to five-thirty and then to six but there was no sign of Ellie. You had begun pacing well over fifteen minutes ago and you were starting to become dizzy enough that you either needed to sit down or walk in a straight line. So you walked in a straight line all the way to the gates of Jackson where you’re met with a commotion you hadn’t ever seen before, you immediately run to Jesse who has a forlorn look on his face.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t they back yet?”

“We don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW? ISN’T THAT YOUR JOB?” He looks shocked at your sudden outburst before dragging you away from the crowd whose eyes had now all fallen on you.

“I’m sorry you’re worried but we all are and freaking out doesn’t help anyone. I’m sure they’re fine, they might’ve just got held up okay.” As he speaks you hear yelling from the men standing at the guard posts on top of the wall and you breathe a sigh of relief when the gates begin to open. The first thing you do is run straight to the front of the crowd pushing and shoving past people to get there to try and get a glimpse of her auburn hair.

Your heartbeat quickens until you see the flash of red you had been waiting for but as she gets closer you see her hunched over form and the array of bruises and cuts littering the skin you could see. Two men walk over to her and Shimmer and help her down before holding her up as she hobbles away from the horse and directly at you. Her eyes meet yours and the relief turns to anger, anger at the anxiety she had caused you. You knew your reaction wasn’t fair on her but you couldn’t stop yourself regardless. You rush towards her and she smiles.

“Where the fuck were you?” You shove at her and she winces as she stumbles a little. “What the fuck happened?” You slap and hit at her chest, releasing the frustration and fear that had been pent up inside you and she let you, until she started to see black spots in her vision from your assault on her already wounded body which was when she caught both your hands in a tight grip and held them to her chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, the horde came out of nowhere. We lost three and the rest of us barely made it out.” Her words hit you hard as you shrunk back from her realising the irrationality of your outburst. “It’s okay, I’m fine but can we please go home?” She pleads and you immediately replace the guy that was holding her up with her arm over his shoulder as you start to walk her back home. Every hiss and wince, every stumble, every shaky breath made you feel worse for your initial reaction but it drove you to get her home as quick as possible so she could rest.

As Maria and Jesse watch you both walk away arm in arm they exchange a look of confusion.

"What was that about?" Jesse questioned Maria.

"No idea, but that was weird." Maria replied.

They watched you both until you were out of sight as Maria smiled to herself knowing exactly what was going on and knowing she was right to move you in together.

tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #tlou ellie #ellie #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x you

211 notes · View notes