#miles never did anything wrong in his life

[afterglowsainz]

the prophecy | max verstappen

summary: you and max can never agree on the same topic of conversation and it might be the thing that breaks you up

warnings: angst, some yelling

word count: 805

the tortured athletes department series

you love max. you really do. but you hate when he brings up the same topic of conversation that you'll never agree on.

“i’m not moving to monaco.” you say for the million time.

“i’m just saying it would be way easier for us.” he answers unbothered while eating his dinner.

you avoid rolling your eyes at his comment and just decide to ignore him. since you got together, distance has been a complicated issue for you both. with max flying almost the whole year for races and then going home to monaco and you working and living in new york, the two of you only saw each other during breaks and when you could occasionally fly to see him race.

and yes, maybe it would make it easier if one of you just moved, but why did it have to be you? living in new york has been your dream since you were a kid and saw it in the movies, and now that you finally got a job that you enjoy in the city of your dreams, are you really gonna leave it? hell no.

“why don’t you think about it?” he insists.

you drop the fork you were holding on the plate creating an exaggerated noise.

“would you do it for me?” you ask, exhausted. “would you move to new york for me?” he shakes his head and went back to his dinner.

“is not the same.” he says. 

“why don’t you move to new york?” you ask instead. this caught his attention and he finally moved his eyes from the food to you. “what is it to you anyway? you’re traveling the whole time, i on the other hand, actually work here.”

“you can get a job in monaco.” he replies like he always did when the topic came up.

“i don’t want a different job!” you raise your voice. “and i don’t want to move to monaco.” he didn’t said anything, fearing that whatever came out of his mouth would disturb you more than you already were. “if you wouldn’t do it for me, why would i do it for you?”

you regret it the moment you said it, but it was too late now, it was out there. you could recognize the pain in max’s face from miles away and you felt a little guilty that you were relieved when you said it so you didn’t have to hide your thoughts on the topic anymore.

“because that is what people in relationships do, y/n.” he answers, his tone rather harsh. “you sacrifice things for each other.”

“why do i have to be the one to sacrifice things?” you couldn’t stop now that it was out there.

“why are you being so immature about this?” he exhales, a tired expression on his face which only made you angrier.

“i’m not acting “immature” about this.” you attack. “you just ask me to give up my whole life to go live in a complete different continent for you and i said no, period.”

“so what are we supposed to do, y/n?” he raise his voice at you also. “what are we doing here? playing around?” you frown, nodding your head in disbelief. “i love you too much but this long distance thing is killing me.” he admits.

to be fair, you weren’t the biggest fan of long distance either, but there was no other choice. it was either that or broke up, and you definitely didn’t want to break up.

“look, i know it is not perfect but what else can we do?” you ask, even though the answer was right there, it was obvious that neither of you was going to give in.

“this cannot be the thing that breaks us up.” he whispers but you heard him.

“of course we’re not gonna break up, max.” you say. “that seems extreme.” a grimace of sadness appeared on your face.

“well, i’m not sure what else…” he didn’t continue. “i’m not moving to new york.” he says with a serious tone. “and it seems like you’re not moving to monaco. and none of us wants to do long distance.” you kept quiet, trying to wrap your mind around what he was implying, praying that your conclusions were wrong.

“so?” you ask somewhat fearfully.

“so… i don’t know.”

“you want to end things?” you question straightforwardly, not wanting to wander anymore where his mind was.

“i don’t.” he answers. “but can we continue how we are?” his face was of true despair. 

“is it really this serious?” your voice was seconds away from breaking but you didn’t want to look shattered in front of him.

“you tell me.” he says with a lump on his throat.

you couldn’t help but wonder if this was always how it was going to end.

[fizzy-dizzie]

When Bucky hugged Steve for the first time since he got the serum, they were alone in a tent. They had just got back to the base camp after their miles long walk back from the hydra base and they were both exhausted.

Steve is situating himself around the very nice, fancy tent that he insisted on sharing and Bucky hasn't taken his eyes off him since he saw him from the table he was strapped onto. Steve. Little Steve. Steve who got sick every winter and who's asthma played up every summer. Steve who had been 5'4 and had remained as such since he was 14. Steve who got into too many fights and never won but not once for lack of passion.

Bucky has to say something, because he hasn't been saying anything since escaping the base and now he feels like he's about to boil over. "Steve"

The same big blue eyes he's always known greeted him and were quick to lace with concern. "You okay, Buck?"

And generally speaking no, Bucky was not okay, he'd been experimented on, he'd been taken by the enemy and strapped down to a goddamn table and he couldn't even remember half of what they did to him there.

For all Bucky knows he could drop dead at any moment but he isn't thinking about that, because he's thinking about how Steve is here, in front of him, all 6'2 of him. He's thinking about how the breath exiting his mouth doesn't follow with wheezing, or how he can take the full rib expanding breaths when he needs it without coughing until there are tears forcing themselves out of his eyes.

Bucky steps forward, his hand gently presses against the expanse of Steve's chest. He stops himself from gawking considering the fact you could park an eighteen wheeler on this thing, he even opens his mouth to say just that but then he feels Steve's heart beat, steady and pumping under his palm.

It's only slight considering the amount of muscle and thick bone in the way but he can feel it all the same and it's not stuttering and irregular. It's pumping blood, lots of blood wherever Steve needs it, constantly and in all the right places instead of spending most of its time in the lowest point of the body.

If Steve were to get sick this heart would help him get better instead of having to fight to keep itself working, and his new lungs might get congested but they wouldn't spasm every time he needed a breath of fresh air. Steve won't be laying in bed all winter sick and out of his mind with any and every illness that has always loved making his life a living hell.

Steve is healthy.

And suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Bucky clears his throat and blinks away any escaped liquid from his eyes, which are very pointedly looking towards his hand. Because if he looks up at Steve and sees those blue eyes all concerned, seeing right through him like they always do, he really will loose it.

"You're okay.." He mumbles mostly to himself.

It comes off as a statement more than anything and a chocked out one at that but Steve knows, because he always knows what Bucky is trying to get at. He places his hand over Bucky's wrist and just holds him, his hand is steady and must be magical because Bucky grows calm at the touch.

"I'm okay."

Feeling himself falter at the affirmation, he leans in, arms wrapping around the waist he could once circle completely with one arm. But he almost backs out as quickly as he started it, the foreign body giving the wrong signals, like hugging a coworker or a distant relative you see once a decade.

But taking a deep breath to centre himself, Steve smelled like he always did, plus the scent of cheap soap hardly lingering, faded from the long day they both just had.

And when he ran his hands over his back he could feel the familiar humps of his spine and count them all the same. Even Steve's hands find the same spot on Bucky's back as they always used to, where his ribs end and his back start to dip in at the start of his waist.

Bucky can still reach the hair at the base of Steve's head and run his fingers through it like he used to see Steve's ma do when they were young.

Now Steve sighs into the hug and Bucky squeezes tighter since he knows he won't be doing any damage. They stay like that for a long time in their own personal world, the centre of their own solar system, everything else moving around them, floating within their orbit.

When they pull back, Bucky's hands linger on Steve's waist for longer then they should and when he looks up Steve's eyes are so full of admiration but his nose and eyebrows are scrunched up like he's got something to say.

Bucky takes his hands back to his sides. "what?"

"We aren't going to leave each other again, okay?" He says it so sure, like they aren't going to be in the heat of battle every other day but Bucky wants it just as bad as he does so he nods and smiles.

"You're stuck with me pal, I'm not going anywhere"

[molenaide]

TEAM MILES ✨💯‼️

[starboundsingularities]

good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder

#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess

7 notes

🥚 eggvidenced Follow

honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

date posted: june 23, 2010

1,834,853 notes

⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though

🧊 just--ice Follow

okay now they're just making lawyers up

#also didn't mvk die or something?

28,932 notes

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder

🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow

so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

are you gonna address the copaganda thing or

1,092 notes

🌻 attorneybout Follow

he's so. 😳

📂 trialanderror Follow

why is he defending

📂 trialanderror Follow

OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???

24,374 notes

🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow

i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all

🥜 liberdeez Follow

op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.

🔐 wrightorwrong Follow

hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!

🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow

net 0 information post

#thanks again lawblr

94,834 notes

🍒 cherriescoola Follow

btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life

2,284 notes

🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow

December 28, 2016

YES!!!

702,947 notes

🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow

guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do

🔪 violencekilling Follow

you gotta let him rob you that's the law

302,948 notes

👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow

look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name

💼 courtofwaw Follow

bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late

62,193 notes

📋 lawandwhoreder Follow

guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited

#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore

7,293 notes

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs

🌈 lawsbian Follow

the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.

12,293 notes

🔮 inhighspirits Follow

why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy

837,495 notes

💞 lawveyourself Follow

seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree

💞 lawveyourself Follow

what do you mean evidence fraud

503,893 notes

🎧 instrumentalillness Follow

fuck you *unguilties your love*

384,568 notes

🎀 copiicat Follow

perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #4

When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.

"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.

"Report!"

"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.

The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.

"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.

"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.

"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."

Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.

"Nightwing, report."

"..."

"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."

"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"

"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."

Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"

"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."

Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."

"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"

The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.

"No, I'm not---"

"--don't need--"

"get AWAY from--"

a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"

and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."

And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."

And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."

The audio cuts off.

The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.

"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.

"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.

"B?" Barbara asks.

"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."

[lady-ashfade]

Matching flames

Percy Jackson x Soulmate!Reader

-£ Ask: Percy x reader who's his soul mate and he only finds out when she almost dies (could be trying to save him or just because life as a demigod is hard) @poemfreak306

-£ words: 2k

-£ Warnings: Reader being injured, soulmate au, blood & cuts, reader almost dying, angsty, comfort at the end, cursing?? (You can also imagine any Percy you want in this)

Could you count all the stars in the sky?

It was almost peaceful looking up at the stars, mind going blank and your body numb. they looked so beautiful and you realize you’ve never quite looked closely at them. burning rocks floating in space that somehow was the cause of so many poems and love stories. if only you had noticed it sooner.

Blood leaked out of your side and the hand you placed over it started to give up trying to put pressure on the wound. The monster who chased you for miles had finally got to you after being so close to camp, to being safe and sound, when it’s claws finally got ahold of you. Its sharp nails dragged into your skin ripping your clothes and stained them with the blood immediately pouring out. thankfully you had one stroke of luck when your dagger pierced its heart and it was quick to fall.

Not much time has passed since then, however it was enough time for you to loss too much blood.

Had the stars always been that pretty? Just a thought as your eyes blur and the only thing left to feel was the thoughts in your head. The sweet smile of your moral parent’s smile, how it felt to laugh with friends and how some part of you still felt on fire. The shore of the camp’s lake appeared in your mind, and sand beneath your feet as you look at someone’s figure. The smile on their face was so familiar…Maybe it was death being nice to you.

you tried to keep your eyes open but they were just too heavy. maybe you could just rest for a few minutes. there was a sense of warmth that took over your body once more as your eyes fade closed.

“He’s coming, not long little one.”

the campfire wasn’t his focus at the moment but he found himself staring into it as his thoughts ran wild. he had just back to camp but this year was so much different. there was so much on his mind that he just couldn’t focus on one thing. about his mother, his father and how he still couldn’t believe he was a Demi god. even after a long time it just wasn’t normal to him.

then a hiss leaves his lips as he clings to his side in pain. it was stinging and felt on fire. he knew how being wounded felt like all to well but nothing happened, he was just sitting. then his finger felt funny like pins and needles stabbed him all at once. from his left annabeth looks at him worried and looking of his confused face.

“What’s wrong?” But the boy just stared at himself as the pain faded away but his hand became numb and weird. He spun it around a few times to look over it, checking for anything causing it but found nothing. not even a bug.

it was your smile that popped in his head. the warm shoulder he always laid on, he could hear the laugh you had ringing in his ears. why? his name was called from your soft lips but it wasn’t like normal, he saw your lips with blood from the corner. reaching out to him like he was your only hope.

“Y/n.�� He stood up immediately at the image in his head. looking around for you in the crowd of campers he didn’t find you with your siblings or around your friends. annebeth looked at him worried and stood up with him, “what is it?”

he knew those trees. he’s seen then a million times. percy knew the grass, but this was different from actually knowing where you were. something was tugging his body and he didn’t need ask where you were. he knew.

his feet moved on their own and he practically ran where they took him and only thought of you. Annebeth stayed behind and told Mr.d that something might be wrong. Percy felt off and not the normal kind he always did. his body felt weaker like it was losing its life. his chest felt off and his heart filled with sorrow.

so when he found you laying in a pool of your own blood he was quick to fall next to you. “y/n” he called out. he checked for a pulse but couldn’t do it right so he leaned next to your nose and listened for your breathing and thankfully he felt some. his heart was pounding when he saw the cuts on your body making his mind wonder to what could have done it. the camp was just a few feet away and you could have been safe.

“Don’t die,” he begged and places his arm under your head, “this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” his words didn’t make sense to him when he spoke. how was it supposed to be? what was he talking about.

the new light in the sky made him look up to a shooting star shoot cross the sky. it was truly beautiful. something around his finger pulled again and he felt the small feeling of string so when he looked down it was red and tied around him. following the line he found it connected to you. The string of fate.

his string was tied to yours. you were his soulmate.

“no, no” he wrapped another arm under your legs and left you up slightly. he was staring at your face with tears pooling themselves in his eyes. for the first time he was finally seeing you as what you were. his. but how could the gods be so cruel to take you way from him. Percy wouldn’t let that happen. he’d fight hades himself for you back.

“just stay with me.” there he was carrying you passed the camp line to get you to the infirmary. even in the near death you looked stunning as you away did. he was just to stupid to see it before. 

when they took you away from him he was quiet and stood outside the door and refused to leave. percy even refused to leave the room at first but was yelled at and pushed out, so he had no choice but to leave your side. how could he just stay outside when he could lose the one person that was supposedly to stay with him, to love him, and who was supposed to be with him always? how could he just sit still when he was going to lose it all?

his friends came to sit with him and offered him some kind words and reassurance but not much helped. he just sat down on a chair with his legs bouncing and hands fiddling with themselves as all he could think is about you. about the cuts on your skin and all the blood.

luckily they had gotten you somewhat healed, making you stable and fine. just had to wait for your body to heal.

“Percy,” annabeth poked his shoulder as he stared at the floor. they had left and he could go in now but he didn’t notice. “you can go in now.” Percy turn quickly to her and then at the door wide open now. so he sprinted up and inside to find you laying on the bed peacefully sleeping. annabeth didn’t follow him in because he needed a moment alone. she’d let him have his moment

Percy sat beside your bed the whole time you slept. he’d fed you. he’d brushed your hair out of your face and watched you closely as if someone was out to get you. his hand was always ready to pull out riptide in case but nothing dangerous ever came. his hand stayed in yours while he whispered for you to wake up and how much he was sorry.

“Should have realized it before,” he whispered as he leaned near you. “gosh, I’m such a idiot.” he sighed to himself and ran his eyes over you.

His hands rubbed your own, “Just wake up and I’ll make up for it. For all the time we lost, just let me love you.” His lips pressed to your head as you continued to sleep unknowing to his words but your body healing by having him close.

two days of not getting much sleep himself you’d waken up. his head resting next to your leg as he sat in a chair with his hand on yours, his hair messy. you didn’t remember coming to the infirmary or how you got here. and not percy holding your hand. but you couldn’t let go off it because it was to comfortable like it was made to fit in yours.

when you moved your body since it felt so stiff from probably not moving in days you’d accidentally woke him up. you felt bad as he shot up quickly and looked around panicked with his hand going to his side, probably reaching for riptide. once his eyes found yours it made your heart sink into your lower stomach. under his eyes were black circles and his eyes looked so painful that it broke you, like he’d been crying. he was paler then normal.

A sad smile broke onto his face, he was relieved to see you awake. He let out a small chuckle as his eyes almost filled with tears when he jumped forward you take your head into his chest as a small hug. “Welcome back,” you froze at his hug but let him have his moment. of course you smiled and wrapped your arms around him too. It was nice.

“Percy, how long was I out…How did I get here?” Pulling himself back with a red tint in his chest he sat back down.

“I found you outside the barrier. Y/n, I thought you were dead, you were barely breathing.” his voice broke. “but I got you here and now you’re awake. not dead,” there was that damn smiling again that pained you, like he was convincing his demons something.

humming and nodding your head along you look at your side to see it healed, lifting up your shirt just a little and saw a scar on your skin. it made you frown knowing how big it would be. “If it means anything, I think you’d look badass.” you put your shirt back down and look at him.

he was trying to make you feel better. “Percy when I was- When I closed my eyes I heard something and my body, well it felt different. Do you know anything about that?” his heart skipped a beat and his eyes slightly going wide.

was it obvious how fluster he was? was his skin as red as a tomato, did he look like a fool? “I have to tell you something.” Percy played with his own hands again and looked away for a second. you swing your legs to the side of the bed to stretch.

“Go ahead.”

You watched him closely and you could see he was working himself up to speak. how his body bounced and twitched, he was turning redder by the second. he was cute. and you yourself found your own cheeks turning hot when you looked at him.

“I saw you at the campfire in my mind. I could feel the pain you felt, or somewhat, like I was dying. my body was pulling me to you and I knew exactly where to find you without having to look.” As he explained you listened carefully and tilted your head to the side.

“then I saw it. The red string of fate tied to my finger. I saw a shooting star, then I saw your string tied to my. And for the first time I saw you for the first time, as my soulmate.”

“Oh.” Damnit. That was bad.

Percy nodded and now started to shut down as he watched you, your brain moving to figure out what to say. he just ruined everything. you wished to not be his soulmate, that was it. he didn’t blame you. Percy brought danger whereever he went.

But that wasn’t it. you had been thinking something else. everything made sense to you now. why you looked at him when no one else was looking. why he made you feel high in the clouds when he was near. and how he just fit so well in your life without trying. “Percy,” you call out to him again and move closer and scoot to the end of the bed with your feet hitting the floor.

you should have known from his eyes. as they look at you now it just hit you like bricks, how they were so powerful. as you take his cheek in your hands his breath hitches and holds in his chest. “i’m glad you’re my soulmate.”

he pulled you close to him and held you so tight in how arms as you giggled at how happy he seemed. his laugh made your stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll make you happy.” And that you had no doubt about. you pulled back from his grasp and looked at his lips. you needed to kiss him. and Percy knew what you were thinking and wanted the same.

his face moved forward as his kiss captured yours in a soft but passive kiss, his hands moving to wrap themselves around your body as yours wrapped around his neck. it was nice but didn’t end short. after all you both waited for a long time to feel the love of a soulmate and you didn’t know that you craved it this badly.

The stars never lied when it comes to love. And now you knew that he was the burning fire within you.

[yawnderu]

Perfect Life — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader

The first night the baby is home, Simon is so elated, mind racing 100 miles per hour. He glances at you and the sleeping baby between both of you, afraid he would crush her in his sleep despite knowing he sleeps like a rock.

What if this time is different? What if he has a nightmare and accidentally hurts either of you? What if someone breaks in? He doesn't have nightmares as often anymore, sleeping with you helps keep them at bay and you both have a fancy security system, yet he'd never forgive himself if anything goes wrong... so he does what he does best; be a guard dog for his girls.

"I love you." He whispers to both of you, laying on his side and looking at you both as if he was examining you in a lab, your breathing pattern he memorized years ago is still the same, and now he's memorizing the one of the little girl in front of him, carving it in his brain just in case if anything is wrong, he'll be able to tell.

It's been almost two hours and Simon isn't sleeping, staying up late and having a bad sleeping pattern became a part of him after so many years serving yet this time he isn't watching an enemy or a facility they're targeting, no, he's watching something much more important. He's watching his wife cuddle the baby in her sleep, her touch delicate yet protective, just as he imagined it would be ever since he found out you were pregnant.

He moves carefully around the bed, hand grabbing his phone and turning the brightness all the way down. Simon looks at you again just to make sure you're asleep before unlocking his secure folder, the corners of his mouth tilting up when he sees the contents of the folder.

It's full of pictures and videos of you, starting back in the day the 141 was formed, until you were heavily pregnant. The latest picture was of all three of you, holding the newborn in the hospital room, happy smiles on both of your faces and pure pride in his eyes. A small chuckle escapes him when he remembers how the nurse he approached seemed scared of him until he asked if she could take a picture of him and his girls, looking around one more time to make sure you were still asleep despite being able to hear your soft snores.

I'm so proud of you. His lips curled up into a soft smile, eyes starting to sting as they did every single time he remembers how far you've come. You look so different from the first time he met you—in fact, you both do, yet you're as beautiful as ever; fresh out of the hospital, no makeup, messy hair, and a peaceful look on your sleeping face while you hold the baby.

Thank you so much. In the quietness of his room and in bed with his two girls, Simon allows the tears to escape his eyes for the first time in years. I didn't even know I could cry anymore.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead and does the same for his little girl before laying back down, an arm protectively wrapped around your waist and over the baby, setting a safe distance between him and his little girl in fear of crushing her in his sleep. With one final look at his pride and joy he drifts off to sleep, his behemoth frame used as a protective shield for both of you in case something happens. Deep inside, he knows you're all safe.

[crxss01]

Hii can u do a 42 miles fluff fic where his uncle caught a him being soft for us and teases him for it

— My Future

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ miles gets caught by his uncle cuddling you and saying sweet nothings to you while you were asleep.

warnings ✧˖ °fluff, cuddling, cursing, implied murder and kidnapping, mentions of threats, implied on and off relationship, miles being a softy for you.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ te amo tanto, sabías?: i love you so much, did you know?, desde el momento que te ví: from the moment i saw you, mi princesa: my princess.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i live for soft miles so here you go, i hope you enjoy!

miles ran his hand up and down your back, your head on his chest, one leg thrown on top of his stomach and your arm hugging him close to you. one of his legs was tangled with your other one and his other arm was wrapped around your waist.

he had been whispering things to you the moment he felt your breathing come to a calm and slow pace, your soft breath making him feel butterflies in his stomach. he hated the feeling but he couldn’t help it when he was with you so he became used to it.

everytime he sees you always felt like the first, the moment he saw you he felt those butterflies but at the time he didn’t know what they were because he never had that feeling before. with time he realized what they meant and thought that they would go away when he confessed but life proved him wrong.

“te amo tanto, sabías?” he whispered. “desde el momento que te ví.”

it was love at first sight for him, it was a cliché and he had completely despised that it happened to him but that negative feeling disappeared when he got to know you.

“i thought you were beautiful…” he continued. “that’s why i bothered you.” he let out a quiet chuckled at that.

miles had started to annoy you after the first meeting, not even waiting a day. you sat next to him in class due to assigned seats and he took that as an advantage to make your learning impossible in that class, and was even worse in the hallway where no teacher was looking and stopping him from doing so.

“i would do anything for you,” his hand stopped moving, coming to a stop at the small of your back. “even kill for you.”

it was true, miles had almost beat up a guy to death when the fucker tried to lay his hands on you. if it wasn’t because you were there telling him to stop with tears in your eyes, fear clear in them, he would’ve killed the guy.

he later discovered that the fear wasn’t directed towards him, but because of what would happen to him if he killed someone in public where there were many witnesses, no mask covering his face to protect him from his crime.

“i would even die for you.” his hand continued with his previous movement.

another truth, he remembers that time you were kidnapped by one of his many enemies. it was right after breaking up with you for a fifth time to protect you from his life as the prowler, but it was useless because you were used against him anyway. but even then he gave himself in just to save you, not making a plan because it would put your life in danger, he had been unaware of the plan his uncle had made.

“anything, mi princesa…” he finished, placing a kiss on top of your head.

“you’re a real simp, ain’t you.” he heard his uncle’s voice.

miles looked at his bedroom door, wondering when the hell did his uncle opened the door without him even realizing.

“getting rusty, huh?” his uncle leaned against the frame. “didn’t even notice i was here at all while you were saying all the lovey-dovey shit.”

miles rolled his eyes and spoke, trying hard not to sound embarrassed. “do you need something?”

“nah, just checking on you.” uncle aaron shrugged. “today’s mission was pretty rough, but you seem to be doing just fine.”

“yeah, yeah.” miles dismissed. “whatever.”

his uncle laughed, making sure it was not loud enough to wake you. “i know you’re embarrassed right now, no need to pretend.” he then turned more serious. “if you really care that much about her, make sure she feels the same way, miles. don’t want you getting hurt.”

miles smirked. “she does feel the same.”

“you think so?” uncle aaron raised an eyebrow.

“i know so.”

“if you say so.” his uncle nodded.

“she promised me her future and i promised her mine, so yeah i’m sure.” miles said simply.

“protect her.” his uncle said before closing the door, saying a goodnight.

“i will.”

miles placed another kiss to your head. “always.”

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[bbangtans]

daybreak | jjk | oneshot

Summary: One of your favorite things to do when you were in your early 20s was stay up late where reflective conversations eventually blurred into nonsense as the sun rose alongside someone you thought you would spend the rest of your days with… Now you’re stuck in New York City for one night due to a delayed flight with that very person standing there in his leather jacket and guitar case in hand across from you at the airport gate. See, fate is a funny thing and Jeon Jungkook could always find the humor in anything.

pairing: rockstar!ex!jk x f!reader genre/tropes: angst, fluff, exes to ???, right person wrong time/second chances, jungkook is so romance film lead coded – charismatic and well-spoken and genuine and ughhhhh i be fawning frrrr, this takes place where both jk and reader are 28ish, jk is a lead singer in a band with tae-jimin-yoongi, and y/n is a working professional rating/warnings: M | alcohol consumption, lots of swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don’t be all willy nilly with this tho!!!), dig bick jk lmfao, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, multiple orgasms. a/n: inspired by my faaaaaave movie before sunrise bc if there’s anything namjoon and i have in common, it’s that we are yearners 🤝 and SURPRISE! she's here a lil earlier than promised <3 word count: ~10.1k

The longest string of curses you ever muttered in your life escaped your lips as your tense eyes focused on the words CANCELED obnoxiously displayed on the monitor indicating the status of your flight, which was supposed to take you back to the comfort of your home in Seoul. This is ignoring the fact that you also had a big presentation to prepare for a client but you got pulled into this conference last minute by your boss – lucky you. 

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry. Unfortunately, all flights have been temporarily suspended due to emergency maintenance as a result of the aircraft recall. The most I can offer is to book you on the next available flight scheduled…” The poor airline employee offered with an apologetic smile. You stepped back as you realized this very employee had to face the brunt of the crowd who also suffered the same fate as you. 

You swallowed your anger, empathetic to this person who was merely a messenger. “Okay, when is the next flight?”

“It will be tomorrow at 10:15AM. That’s the earliest we can do, unfortunately. I can have you booked on that flight and you’ll have the details emailed to you shortly.” 

Sighing, you nodded your head. “Cool, thank you… but will the airline be able to provide a place to stay since –”

You were cut off by an angry – and entitled – middle-aged woman. “Excuse me but what is the airline going to do about this? I’m supposed to be in Seoul by 10PM on the 24th. How is this airline going to ensure that? Do you know how much I paid for this?”

You were at your wits end as you watched other passengers try to come down on the woman as you walked away. At least you were in “The City that Never Sleeps” so finding something to do won’t be that difficult. You jerked your carry-on bag along as you tried to exit from the commotion of your gate however you did not get far as you were stopped by someone who stood before you amongst another fleet of passengers dealing with the same issue as your flight. You recognized that signature, worn leather jacket and stickered guitar case from miles away.

“Jungkook?”

The call of his name pulled him back into reality as it appeared as though he himself was checking if this was actually happening. Your mind started racing as you couldn’t help the shock that washed over you. So many questions flashed by as his surprised gaze met yours.

“Hey…” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “...Having flight issues too?”

Sitting at a coffee shop in the terminal across from each other, it was… awkward, you both could not deny. 

Jungkook cradled his iced americano while your now empty vanilla latte cup rested there. A funny representation of both of your approaches to life. It was also a point of teasing that Jungkook previously used to his advantage during the days of shared kisses and intimate dates. Times when you and Jungkook would lie shoulder to shoulder on a bed of grass in open fields and wish upon shooting stars.

“This sucks, doesn’t it?” You tried to break the ice, seeing Jungkook’s uncharacteristic silence. Perhaps these years have changed you both.

“The flight thing or us sitting across from each other like this?” Jungkook cracked and you let out a breath of laugh. 

Toying with your empty cup, you nodded at nothing in particular. “Definitely the flight thing, and regarding right now… not sure. But I can’t lie that it’s nice to see a familiar face amid this chaos.”

His shoulders slacked as if tension melted away and Jungkook sat up more confidently in his seat. “Yeah, I bet. And wait…” He paused before leaning towards you in surprise. “Are you here in NYC alone? What brings you here?”

You waved off his worry, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “I came here for a 2-day work conference so I was strictly here on business.” Funny to think that reaction was almost impulse despite the passage of time between you both.

“Have you been to New York before? Did you at least get a chance to explore the city after your conference?”

“No, and no, honestly. It took a lot out of me and the company is pinching pennies by only giving me a short window here outside of the conference. What about you, what brings you here? Is this your first time stuck here?” You rested your head on your hand that was propped up on the table.

Jungkook’s unforgettable grin made its appearance as he noticed your growing ease at the situation. “The band’s here on tour. We’re about to start our Europe leg but of course… shit had to hit the fan with the airplane scandals. And nope, this is our third time in New York. We were first here on tour a couple of years ago.” 

You smiled at this. “That’s right. I’m sure you’re a seasoned professional being on the road and all with the SNAFUs that come up… Congrats though, I hear the band has really taken off. You guys deserve all the success.”

“You don’t know how much that means to me,” Jungkook started, grinning wide as ever. “No seriously, it means a lot coming from you.”

“You’re messing with me.” You frowned in jest.

“No, not at all. You were that push to get my head on straight, y’know? Even before we … ended things… you were one of the few people who genuinely believed in us. And I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Feeling your face get warm, you shook your head in a humble gesture. “I only saw and believed in the obvious. I mean look at you guys now, touring the US and now even Europe? This success was all in the making.”

“But enough about the band! How’re you? Being all professional going abroad on conferences and stuff. What are you up to?” Jungkook took a sip from his Americano where the ice had become significantly smaller.

“I’m a product manager, and so that keeps me busy 9-5 on the weekdays.” You joked. “But other than that, just floating along. Hanging out with friends, taking life a day at a time, y’know? I’m nowhere as interesting as you, Mr. Rock Star… Living in LA and all.”

Jungkook laughed as he slipped off his leather jacket and revealed an entire sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. You eyed them curiously as he had always talked about wanting tattoos in your younger days. It was good to see that he was able to have that aspiration come to fruition. Another reminder of the passage of time between you both.

“Don’t say that, I think you’re one of the coolest people ever. No one approaches life the way you do, Taehyung-hyung might be a close second… but he doesn’t have the flare that you do.” He started then his smile turned slightly void as he followed up. “Would it be awkward to ask how things are with…”

“...Who? Oh, Seokjin?” You casually asked, truthfully you had not said that name since your eventual breakup almost a year ago. TL;DR you both weren’t compatible because you weren’t ready to settle down for whatever reason despite him being ready to take you both to city hall at the drop of a hat. “Uh… we ended things a while ago actually.”

“Right, yeah,” Jungkook responded vaguely. “Sorry if that was weird, it’s just that he and Yoongi-hyung are friends and you haven’t come up in a while whenever Hyung mentions him but sorry if I’m prying and sorry if I am especially making this awkward but –” He was rambling. Cute.

“Jungkook,” You rested a hand on his forearm, ignoring the surge of electricity that unknowingly jolted you both. “I get it, no worries.”

You both couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your faces.

“So what about you? Seeing anyone?”

He looked almost offended by the question but brushed it off. “Me? Nope, life’s been too hectic with the band these past two years to be seriously involved with someone.”

“Uh huh,” you mused before Jungkook cocked his brow in confusion at your response.

“What?”

“‘Seriously involved’? So you have been dabbling in some rockstar tendencies.” You wiggled your eyebrows teasingly. The 21-year-old in you aches, but today you are 28 and not exactly that same old person as before. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I don’t want to discuss that with you of all people. And besides, we haven’t made it to the big leagues yet. We’re just tadpoles in a lake, we still gotta work our way to bigger waters.”

You only laughed, and Jungkook let you with his arms folded over his chest – basking in this moment he never thought would happen.

However, it was interrupted as an aproned barista approached you both, being the only patrons left as the coffee shop was getting ready to close for the day. The freckled teen awkwardly cleared his throat with a broom in hand. You then observed the fact that the chairs were already perched upon tables – a clear sign that the establishment was closed for business. You both hadn’t realized how much time had passed in chatting. “Hello, I’m sorry but we’re closing for the day. You are welcome to take your drinks with you to the gates though.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No worries, my bad.”

You and Jungkook apologized at the same time while hurriedly gathering your belongings. 

Walking out, Jungkook sighed as he held the handle of his guitar case in his tattooed hand. “I can’t believe a place in the airport closes at fucking 5PM.”

“Jungkook, it’s a coffee shop. Closing at 5PM is considered late for that industry already and besides, this isn’t Seoul.” You laughed.

“True… but…” Jungkook cast you a sideways glance. “What are you going to do until your flight tomorrow morning?”

You could only shrug. “Not sure, I was just going to camp out here at JFK.”

A moment of silence passed as you both walked on in no particular direction, only the sound of the wheels of your carry-on suitcase and the heavy footsteps from Jungkook’s combat boots. Despite the 7 years that passed, you could still tell Jungkook was mulling over something. This fact honestly surprised you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You offered gingerly.

“Now, this is going to sound crazy,” he spoke, his mind clearly running miles a minute and barely able to keep his once stable walking pace. “Hear me out all the way through, okay?”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

“So, my manager got each of us a hotel room not too far from the airport –”

“Jungkook.” You interrupted him incredulously, on the verge of seeing red. Offense, disrespect, anger… it all pulsed through you at once. By this point, you both had stopped in the middle of the wide airport corridor between gates. “Are you fucking serious –”

He held his hands up in defense. “You said you would hear me out!”

“...fine.” Arms crossed over your chest defensively, and you took a step back.

“Like I said, I have this hotel room so what if we kept our stuff there and we explore NYC tonight? Then when morning comes, you could grab your things and head back to Seoul and get back to your routine.” Jungkook now positioned himself where he stood directly before you, eyes connected to yours. “You said it yourself you didn’t get to see NYC. And I’ve been here before, so it all works out.”

You obviously still looked unconvinced with arms crossed over your chest defensively. 

“Okay, how about this: there’s a Smart Carte baggage drop-off in Terminal 4 of JFK. Forget stopping by my hotel room, you can drop off your things here so by morning we can both be here for our flights. I’ll be on my way to Vienna and you’ll be headed back to Seoul. How does that sound?” Jungkook negotiated. “Listen, Y/N. It’s just been so nice to hang out with you and I don’t know but there’s something in me that can’t pass up this opportunity to at least help you see the magic of NYC… and to spend a few more hours with you.”

“I…”

Jungkook stepped forward with a pleading stare. “Please, I promise it’ll be worth your while. I feel like you would regret this not happening as much as I would. And if it convinces you, I promise that we can forget that this night ever happened after the fact. I swear…”

A smirk broke out on your face after a tense beat of silence and mulling over his words. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Jungkook could not fight the smile that reached his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief and then turned, gesturing for you to start off what would be your journey of the evening together.

By the time you both made it into Manhattan proper, it was prime dinner time. You felt the grumble of your stomach as you and Jungkook sat in the back seat of an iconic yellow taxi. Embarrassedly, you put your hand over your stomach in a feeble attempt to keep it quiet. 

“So, y’all are headed to Katz’s?” The taxi driver asked as he glanced at the two of you through the rearview mirror. He was an elderly man wearing a newsboy cap and the taxi itself smelled of the endless cups of coffee he consumed during his day on the clock. 

“Yup, we’re hoping the dinner rush isn’t as bad,” Jungkook responded in a friendly manner. “It may be a Tuesday but it’s Katz’s after all.”

The driver chuckled as the traffic was beginning to chip away and the taxi started to speed up on the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as you watched the city sky begin its transition into an orangey-pink sunset. “I’m assuming this fella over here has been to the City before, but is this your first time, Miss?”

You nodded your head. “Yes, actually I came for a conference but have limited time here.”

“Oh? When do you head back to…” he trailed off, not sure how to continue the sentence.

Jungkook took the chance to chime in. “Seoul… in Korea. She heads back tomorrow actually.”

The driver let out a low whistle. “That’s a crazy turnaround time. But listen, New York is a magical place – despite whatever those bozos not even from the city have to say. It has character, and so much can happen in the City that Never Sleeps. It is a land of possibility. And here, thirty years ago, is actually where I met the woman who became my wife. It’s a special place, for sure.”

“I bet.” Jungkook grinned as he looked out the drawn window, taking in the newly warm springtime breeze. 

Jungkook let you take the ride in silence, unsure of what was going through your head about this whole situation and in all honestly cursing himself for possibly pressuring you into doing something you weren't comfortable with in the first place. He kept casting cautious glances your way when you weren’t looking. 

Eventually, the taxi came to a halt. 

“Alrighty, here we are!” The driver pulled up on the busy intersection and you were in awe by the throngs of people despite it being one of the earlier weekdays and the very end of rush hour. Jungkook paid for the ride and ushered you both out of the taxi respectfully.

“Thank you for the ride!” You called out as you exited the vehicle.

“Enjoy New York and all she has to offer!” the driver bid you two before driving off to find his next patron of the evening. 

Jungkook almost choked mid-bite of the huge signature pastrami sandwich you both decided to split as you continued to share about that one time your mutual friend back in Seoul, Hoseok, had accidentally cussed out an innocent employee at a haunted house. 

“No way.” He barely managed to get out between his mix of coughs and laughs, grabbing the attention of worried customers inside the establishment. He grabbed his cup of water to ease his throat.

“Yes, way! Afterward, he kept bowing in apology. I felt so bad but Namjoon and I were too busy laughing to step in to help.” You put your spoon down, making a good decision to not have a bite of the shared chicken noodle soup as you giggled at the memory. 

Once Jungkook calmed down and took a sip of his water, he looked at you in amusement. “Classic Hobi.”

“I know right? But regardless, he’ll always be an angel. Despite that, he doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body.” 

Jungkook nodded in agreement. “I miss that guy a lot, man.”

You smiled up at him. “He misses you, too – I’m sure.”

He rested his sandwich on the plate. “Let me know if I’m being weird… but I missed this.”

Your smile faltered as it grew slightly wary. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, genuine. “I just feel like you’ve always been someone I easily get along with and y’know… considering our past and how things aren’t super awkward now. In all honestly, I thought you were just going to ignore me and keep walking away at the airport due to the possibility that you might’ve hated me… I wouldn’t have blamed you, though. I was a bit of an asshole when we ended things. And I am sorry about that. Genuinely.”

You could easily recall that night.

You looked at him, confused. “What?”

“I said I don’t think we should continue seeing each other.” Jungkook stood his ground despite the internal turmoil. “I… just feel like I’m holding you back.”

“You can’t be the only one to decide that, Jungkook.” His words finally started to settle in your bones and it felt like a thousand cuts.

“Listen, you deserve a lot more… and we both know that.” 

“Jungkook, you aren’t listening. You can’t just pre-emptively end things like this over something like that – not without discussing it with me too.” 

You tried to reason with him by resting a hand on his arm. He finally looked at you with tears in his eyes. You knew at that point, there was no talking him out of it. He firmly believed this was the right choice for you, no matter how inherently selfish he didn’t realize he was being. Being kind to a fault in true Jeon Jungkook fashion.

He was breaking up with you.

You smiled bittersweetly at the memory. “Yeah… that is a fair thought. But you know, we were young. Barely 21 years old. And while that was only 7 years ago, we were different people. I can’t imagine making the same decisions we did back then now.”

“I guess we were.” Jungkook offered, understanding that this was your way of accepting his apology. 

“And!” You picked up your spoon again to scoop yourself a spoonful of some chicken noodle soup. “That was before we had developed prefrontal cortexes. And besides, I could never hate you now… I finished with that when I turned 23.” You joked but he froze slightly at your words.

Jungkook made sure to make direct eye contact with you filled with something that could move mountains. “I never intended to hurt you, I really didn’t.”

Your tone also went serious yet understanding. “I know, I know now. And I appreciate you for telling me.”

Despite the bustle of that tiny deli in the middle of the dinner rush, all you could see was Jungkook and all he could see was you. The understanding weighing upon you both now.

“Thank you for also trusting me with taking you out tonight, that means a lot to me.”

“Me too.” You nodded up at him. “I doubt there’s anyone else who would be able to get me out here like this either. I can’t even remember the last time I pulled an all-nighter… it was probably when we were still in undergrad.” The two of you shared a laugh that was abruptly interrupted. 

“FINAL CALL! Final call for order number 72!” The person working the counter exclaimed with the order bill in his hands. No one went up to the counter so the employee shook his head to himself in disapproval before proceeding to keep it pushing. 

The scene had finally calmed so you turned to Jungkook expectantly. “Alright, we had dinner. So where are we headed now?”

Jungkook wiped the crumbs off his mouth with a napkin as he said, “One of my favorite bars in the city! The vibes are so nice and they often have open mic nights so you get to see some local talent”

“Sounds amazing.”

“Oh, it will be,” Jungkook promised.

“I have to go to the bathroom real quick before we head out, though.” You said as you got up. 

He nodded his head as he motioned for you to go. “Do what you gotta do.”

Inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom, unable to grasp how this whole thing could have happened. One second you are about to cry from how cruel the universe was to sitting at a historic deli with Jeon-freaking-Jungkook. 

Once you returned, you saw him writing on a napkin which he then folded up and placed in the pocket of his jeans at the sight of you approaching. 

“What’s that?”

“Just some thoughts for a possible song that came to me.” Jungkook got up and left some cash for the tip on the table. “C’mon. Let’s head to our next destination!”

Sitting on the subway, thigh to thigh with Jungkook taking the aisle seat and you on the window seat, he told you that he doesn’t remember the name of this favorite bar but just how to get there. He said that, apparently, was all that mattered as you sat on the A Line train. Trying your best to ignore the close proximity due to the seat and Jungkook’s broad frame, you both took turns taking shy stolen glances at each other – hoping each other would notice just as much as you both wish you wouldn’t. The warm and slightly stagnant air made you both run a little hot, your cardigan resting in your lap and Jungkook’s leather jacket in his.

However, the car of the train started to get packed to the point where people had to step into the aisle right next to Jungkook. The sudden stops causing people to bump into the shaggy-haired singer. You scooted to be more flush against the wall of the car, motioning for Jungkook to get closer to avoid more hits from the rough ride and sudden backpack attack. He looked at you sheepishly as he accepted the invitation, where his arm went around the top of your seat and shoulders to make room for his wide build. 

“I hope this is okay.” He gave as he rested against you.

“Yeah, no worries.” You had a smile of reassurance that he mirrored.

It was hard to avoid each other eyes at this point. 

You wondered how long it had been since you were last nested against him and why you didn’t feel as uncomfortable as you thought you’d be despite all those years. However, this was no surprise as Jungkook always had that weird effect on you.

“Pardon me, is it cool if I stand here next to you?” A tall, handsome figure appeared from your left side. You peered over your shoulder at the sudden question. It was about an hour before Epik High was supposed to be on stage but you entered the venue early since you wanted a good place to stand on the floor. There were pockets of people but surely not enough where someone had to approach you and ask like that. 

Promptly, you had to bring yourself back to reality as you cleared your throat. “Yeah, sure… no worries.”

A bunny-toothed dazzling smile appeared and you watched as his eyes curiously traveled down to the long-sleeved tour shirt you held. A purchase to remember this concert. “Thanks. And oh! I was tempted to get that shirt too. It’s pretty sick.”

Feeling a little self-conscious you avoided his fixed gaze, “Yeah. Their designer for this tour’s merch did an awesome job…”

Jungkook nodded mostly to himself, believing that he was making you uncomfortable. “Listen, sorry if I’m making this awkward but my name’s Jungkook, and I think you seem really cool. But if I’m bothering you, totally let me know and I can give you your space! No hard feelings or anything.”

You smiled at his frankness and shook your head at this. “No, no. Sorry, I think you seem cool too, and I don’t mind at all.” You said before giving your name as well.

“That’s a pretty name,” he responded. “It suits you.” 

You politely laughed off the subtle compliment. “Thank you, and I hope so.”

Steadily, you and Jungkook became deeply immersed in conversation – talking about how long you both had been fans of the artist, why you both ended up attending this concert alone, and getting to know each other generally. Most significantly, you found out that you both attended the same university and were the same age among the many things discussed. The conversation flowed comfortably after that initial interaction. That hour before showtime had passed so quickly that you hadn’t noticed how much the venue had filled up and gradually forced you and Jungkook to be shoulder to shoulder from how packed it had become. By the time the venue fell dark and signaling that Epik High was about to set foot on stage, the crowd had slightly pushed forward, forcing you to be closer than ever to Jungkook.

“Sorry, I hope this is okay.” He spoke sheepishly at the proximity.

“No worries.” You smiled at him and at that moment the pyrotechnics of the stage went off, as the concert began – strangely calm despite having only met the man not too long before and cheers erupting from the crowd that surrounded you. There was just something about him.

There was always something so human (as cliche as it was) about open mic nights. People stand on stage and recite poems where they bare their souls or sing original songs written about the throes of life. A little appreciation for the small things that you and Jungkook shared. You both enjoyed the local buskers back in Seoul during undergrad, especially around springtime when things overall seemed brighter and full of life. 

You sat with your pineapple tequila as Jungkook went for his whiskey on the rocks, occasionally shaking the ice cubes around in the glass between sips. You both sat at a booth off to the side of the stage where you could get a decent view of the performers. 

“So…” Jungkook started.

You tore your gaze away from the current performer, a girl singing a cover of a Laufey song, to find Jungkook staring at you with a glint in his eye. “...So?”

“I’m honestly surprised you took my offer to spend time with me tonight – with some negotiating, of course but surprised nevertheless.” Jungkook chuckled as he took another sip of his drink. “What was it that convinced you?”

You toyed with a loose strand of hair in contemplation of his words. 

What did convince you? Was it the frustration from the flight fiasco? The fact that you were in New York for the first time? This was a question you only recently started to ponder because saying yes felt so right but you couldn’t explain why.

“I just trust you. And it’s been so long since we’ve been in the same place at the same time.” You began, noting how his eyes have softened at your words. “I honestly didn’t know what to think when you first stood there in front of me, y’know? I kind of thought I was hallucinating. I thought that maybe the stress from all the flight mess was getting to me. 

“I honestly never thought I would cross paths with you ever again, considering how the trajectory of our lives headed. You live in LA, working full-time on your music and touring. I live back in Seoul, where there’s always a deadline looming over me and I have to set off to meet some client. And besides…” You held his stare where there was a gentle smile on his face. “I knew I wanted to spend more time to catch up with you the second we sat back in that coffee shop at the airport.”

Relief and something else that you couldn’t place washed over his face. Was it regret? Was it longing? You didn’t know exactly but you felt his free hand reach for yours from across the booth. The calloused fingers of his hand from hours of playing guitar caressed yours as he stared at the way they connected. Still a perfect fit. Your first real bit of physical connection since that fateful day when you were both 21 and young and dumb and lost. 

“Yeah, me too.” Jungkook started. “But for me, it was the moment before you even saw me. When my eyes found you at the gate, I seriously couldn’t believe it.”

You laughed at this. “Well, I hope that time has done me well since you last saw me.”

Jungkook chuckled as well as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you kidding? You look phenomenal. I’m convinced you always will.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re trying to butter me up.” You joked but deep down, the intensity of the intimacy scared you. It was like a fireplace left dormant for so long had finally lit up. It surged through your whole body and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. You withdrew your hand back slowly and instantly regretted the coldness from the loss of contact. However, it frightened you with all things considered. “You’ve always been such a charmer.”

Jungkook’s expression faltered when you fully pulled back your hand but he tried his best to hide it. Holding your hand just felt so right, like it was the divine providence of the universe – written in the stars and made to fit. No other body could bring the warmth he felt from when he was around you. He was convinced that with your every step, flowers bloomed and skies cleared. He was always a goner for you, and that still stands true to this day. 

How funny the universe was, Jungkook thought to himself, that it could create someone so wonderful but have them exist on a different path from his. 

“Alright, alright! That was a fantastic cover from Gina. Let’s give her a round of applause, everyone!” The MC and presumed owner of the bar stepped on stage and spoke into the mic, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Now, we have a guest singer that I saw sign up, his name is JK Jeon. Let’s give him a warm welcome!”

You whipped your head to face a sheepish Jungkook finishing the last bits of his whiskey before he patted you on the head and headed towards the stage. “When did he…”

The leather-jacketed, confident lead singer Jeon Jungkook of Bring the Soul appeared before you as he adjusted the mic stand and introduced himself in perfect, unaccented English. “Hi everyone, my name is JK. I signed up because this is one of my favorite places in New York so I thought I’d sing something for you, especially because there’s also someone important here with me today.” 

His eyes locked with yours in that moment and you forgot to breathe for a second. He looked so otherworldly in that bar, he had the aura to make the dingiest stage look like some elaborate arena. He was born to perform.

Your second pineapple tequila arrived and it was a much heavier pour from the bartender. However, you were grateful as the surge of emotions overcame you. Everything was feeling surreal again and you definitely needed this drink despite being a little bit of a lightweight.

“So, this song is titled ‘seasons’ by a band called wave to earth. Hope you enjoy it.” 

With that, he signaled for the song to start and the first keys of a piano filled the dim bar. Not once did Jungkook’s eyes leave yours as he sang. You were absolutely bewitched as the song progressed, and so was the rest of the bar. A couple across the room embraced each other, two friends shared a toast of their drinks with a lively clank, and the bartender even paused to take in Jungkook’s singing… all these people were brought together by his undeniable talent. Your heart was so full and you were so proud, and distracted until you really started to listen to the lyrics of the song.

But I'll pray for you all the time

If I could be by your side

I'll give you all my life, my seasons

By your side, I'll be your seasons

My love

A thunderous applause surged through the bar as Jungkook thanked the audience and stepped off the stage fluidly before heading straight for the booth where you still sat. However, instead of sitting across from you, he slid into the bench where you were and settled right next to you.

“How was that?” Jungkook’s arm naturally went around your shoulders and you swore you were soaring. 

You rested your head on his bicep as you gazed up at him, and Jungkook was swooning at how adorable you looked then. The dim, soft lights make you look ethereal to him. “It was amazing, as always.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Jungkook stroked your hair as you continued to rest your head on his arm. He could tell you were beginning to feel your drinks in your system since you had long finished your two pineapple tequilas and were now babysitting a pint of beer. 

“Hey, Jungkook.” He barely caught it as you basically whispered it out. “Y’know, I’m going to be really sad about everything once morning comes.”

His eyes widened as he shared the same sentiments. “Yeah… me, too.”

“But!” You suddenly shot upright in posture and surprised him as you grabbed your drink by its handle. “None of that dramatic ‘goodbye’ shit in the morning!” You tipsily pointed at Jungkook with your beer who only laughed at your theatrics as some foam spilled.

Between chuckles, Jungkook was barely able to let out at the sudden shift in mood. “Okay, then what do we say at the end? When it’s morning time?”

“What people always say at that time – ‘good morning’ and not goodbye. Let’s make it a nice ending for us, I feel like that would do us both justice.” Your gaze was too hazy to see the seriousness that lined his face but he shook it off and plastered his signature smile despite the storm in his heart. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I don’t want to be sad in those last minutes with you.”

“Okay, we’ll bid each other ‘good morning’ when dawn comes then we go on with the rest of our lives. No sad stuff.” You missed how tight-lipped his grin was. 

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Alright, follow me!” Jungkook called from over his shoulder as he jogged to catch the door to the rooftop of some swanky highrise apartment complex that you two managed to sneak into. 

He held the door open for you, with his free hand exaggeratedly ushering you to go first like a medieval knight. “After you, m’lady.”

By this time, the alcohol had flushed out of your system on the twenty-minute walk Jungkook had brought you on after hearing about how much you wanted to see the skyline but didn’t want to pay a ridiculous amount for a view. And this is where it led you: on the lounge rooftop of a luxury apartment building. The twinkling lights of the city sparked beneath you. The haphazard spacing of the lights from nearby buildings were windows into the lives of the people who occupied the space. Then, you had the great Empire State Building literally blocks away, its spire brightly illuminating the night. To your right, there was a patch of darkness that was Central Park. 

You were breathless at the sight before you. Suddenly, you felt connected with every fiber of your being. The light midnight breeze that swam between your loose strands of hair felt like a glass of fresh water as it revitalized you. There you were, in New York City – looking at it from a bird’s eye point of view. Nothing could have ever prepared you for this. 

You then felt Jungkook stand close next to you as he bumped his shoulder with yours playfully. “How is it?”

“It’s so beautiful.” It took everything in you to tear your gaze away from the view to look at Jungkook. “How did you know about this place?”

He snickered mischievously. “One of the label’s former execs used to live in this building. He used to talk about it all the time and I couldn’t help but remember it. Glad it lived up to all the talk though, it is gorgeous up here.”

And with that, he began to walk over to the outdoor couch hidden behind the privacy of a cabana in front of a fire pit. He turned it on effortlessly before plopping down on the couch right beside the glass-protected edge of the building for what you assumed to be a maximum viewing experience. You followed and sat down, his arm naturally finding its way wrapped behind your shoulders. 

“I never thought I would be able to experience something like this,” you marveled at the night skyline with an at-ease smile on your face, letting your body fit into a nook created by Jungkook’s. “Never would I think feeling so small like this would be so comforting. I don’t regret this at all.”

Absentmindedly, Jungkook’s hand began to play with one of the strands of your hair. “Yeah, same. I regret a lot of things, but this definitely wouldn’t be one – not by a long shot.”

“Oh? Like what kind of regrets?” You asked him, scared to look into his eyes at that moment. 

“Letting my insecurities and tendencies for perfectionism get the best of me. There were so many times when it got in the way of being present. Whether it be with the band, my life… and you.” His hand froze as he cleared his throat. “I regret letting you go. And I feel like the biggest idiot on the face of the earth, y’know? I thought that I had to be successful to be worthy of your love. To be worthy of someone so utterly beautiful inside and out. You were truly my morning light. And I hurt you. I hurt you because I was insecure and so lost in my head.” He blew out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “And Y/N, I can’t even begin to explain how much it kills me to sit here with you knowing I did that. And I think that’s because my heart will always be yours, y’know. And I know I’m rambling but I’ve been meditating on this for the past few years because it always bothered me to hear how great and peachy things were for you with that Seokjin guy from Yoongi-hyung, I… don’t know…”

You sat up and finally made eye contact with Jungkook at his confession, resting a comforting hand on his chest. “Jungkook, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…” You whispered as Seokjin stood before you under a streetlight at the park not too far from his apartment. 

“My love, I just can’t do this anymore. I love you so much but it’s time we both be honest.” Seokjin reached for your gloved hand. It was the tail end of autumn and the first signs of winter were beginning to make its appearance. “I don’t think we should meet anymore.”

Tears lined your eyes but the rush of the emotion present was so foreign to you. You knew you should have been sadder and while you were sad... However, at that point, you realized that you were more sorrowful about losing Seokjin as a person in your life than your actual romantic relationship ending. That’s when it hit you, the tears falling. “How did you…”

“My love, you're one of the most intelligent people I know but I don’t think you even realized it yourself. But your heart isn’t in it with me. And that’s okay, I’ll always have a soft spot for you and I’m sure you know that.” Seokjin sighed as he respectfully let go of your hand and took a definitive step back, still handsome and composed. “I’m afraid I just can’t keep fighting like this for a love that was never meant to be mine in the first place.”

“I think that it will always be you.” You whispered, at this point your lips just mere centimeters from Jungkook’s. 

“It’ll always be you, too,” Jungkook responded, too drunk in your perfume and the feeling of your being so close to his. “Y/N, can I tell you something now?”

“Of course.”

“Would it be okay if I kissed you right now?”

Wordlessly, you closed the gap between you two. The second your lips connected, it felt a lot like a warm summer day. Electricity turned static force kept you connected like that. Soon, lips moved in sync like rolling ocean waves during low tide. Hands lost in hair and tracing all the valleys of each other’s bodies, leaving goosebumps at they traversed every familiar inch. Jungkook’s plush lips felt so homey and so right. Your hand went right back to resting on his chest, feeling the intense beating of his heart. A pace set for you only. 

It hurt so much to have to disconnect so you both could catch your breath. 

“Wow…” Jungkook licked the last taste of you off his lips, savoring the moment with his eyes closed and forehead rested upon yours. “I missed this so fucking much. I missed you so much.” 

“Please kiss me again...” Your eyes gazed into his and he obliged happily. 

And your lips found each other again just like that.

Hands grew more adventurous as the kiss grew more heated. Jungkook’s calloused and cold hands made their way under your shirt, cupping your tender breasts through your bra. At this, you gently pushed him to sit back further on the couch so you could climb on top. The second you straddled his hips, you began to grind down onto his clothed dick, earning you a grunt of satisfaction. His hands grew impatient as he then pushed your shirt and bra up to reveal perky nipples, the chill of the night making them more erect. 

“You look a little cold, baby. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He said before taking one nipple into his mouth and his free hand making sure the other wasn’t left unattended. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you as he was living up to his words. 

You reached down between your bodies and slipped them into his denim jeans, feeling his hot and heavy dick in the palm of your hands. This got you another grunt from Jungkook, suddenly you were on your back lying down on the couch and Jungkook flashed you his charismatic smile. “Getting a little handsy, I see.” He leaned down and began kissing your neck, remembering your sweet spot despite your time apart. It was his turn for his hand to slip into your pants, gathering your slick between his fingers to play with your clit.  “Baby, let me eat you out, okay?”

You could have easily come right then and there. 

You barely managed a nod as you felt him pull down your jeans and panties in tow after kicking off your sneakers. Once off, Jungkook sat back as he in the sight of your sprawled like that before him. Snapping out of his daze, he crouched down and just lost all sense of shame the second his mouth tasted you. Sucking rhythmically on your clit, rubbing circles on your inner thigh, it was all too much. The sloppy sounds of his saliva mixing in with your wetness were all you could focus on as you felt your walls tighten on nothing. 

“Jungkook, baby, your fingers…”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he continued his string of slurps on your pussy and inserted one finger, beginning to stretch you out. The loudest moan escaped you embarrassingly considering you both were in a public place. However Jungkook didn’t care, he was making up for lost time after all. And then another long digit went inside you, pumping wildly and that was it.

The threads of the rope in your stomach were wound so tight that the fine fibers were beginning to give. Jungkook knew your undoing was near so he continued his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and fingers. Soon enough, the rope snapped, your eyes sealed shut as you saw white and your jaw went slack while you continued to leak out. Your body felt utterly buoyant, among the clouds, and your mind far ahead of your physical being. How long had it been since you came like that?

Jungkook happily lapped up your cum like a man who had gone without water. “You look so fucking beautiful, so beautiful.”

“Need you… inside…” You finally said as you came to and began to remove Jungkook’s leather jacket and his white tee. “More, I want more of you…”

His smile shined as the bottom half of his face was proudly covered in your slick. That dazed smile stayed plastered as he undid the bucket of his belt, the jingle of his pants and boxers hitting his ankles had you in anticipation. 

“Your wish is my command, baby. All yours… I’m all yours” He continued to toy with your already sensitive clit as he began to gently push himself inside your tight core. Both your eyes went wide with how good the tight fit was. It took everything in Jungkook to not come at that moment. His eyes only got a glimpse of the delectable scene of where he entered you before he had to screw them shut in concentration. “You feel so good as always, could die like this.”

You began to move around him, wanting friction and he took that as his sign to start moving as well. What started as slow and steady, became desperate and erratic. He hovered over you, his lips on the valley of your neck and hand gripping onto your breast as you felt every single velvet inch of him fuck you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him closer if that was even possible. It was all-consuming, it was otherworldly. He hit you in all the right places and it was so good that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Jungkook, just like that, baby. Let’s come together, okay?” You spoke into his ears which kicked him into overdrive. You were so full of him. His hand fondling your painfully erect nipple, his mouth right on the spot he knew would have you, and Jungkook groaned as you clenched him so tight, having him reach his own undoing. A sheen of sweat lined Jungkook’s forehead as he cocked a focused brow. He drank in the fucked out image of you, encouraging him to thrust into you even more sporadically despite how sensitive you both were.

It felt so right to be filled up with his cum, with his dick, with him. 

The two of you sat there in that fucked out state for a couple more minutes to catch your breath again. 

Eventually, Jungkook got up with that dopey smile still on his face as he began to dress you despite still lying on the couch and straighten your clothes. He punctuated each movement with a peck on your swollen lips. His movements were more delicate and tender compared to the heated desperation from moments ago. Once he was dressed as well, he collapsed with you on the couch with his arm slung around you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He made eye contact again, however his airy smile faltered at seeing your bittersweet expression make another appearance. “Hey, baby… what’s wrong?”

“Where do we go from here, Jungkook?” You asked as you reached for his face, caressing a cheek with your thumb. “Because now I’m going to be even more sad when morning comes…”

Fuck. Jungkook had been so caught up in that moment that he didn’t realize what the consequences would be after the fact. While he sure as hell didn’t regret what happened, he didn’t want to hurt you any more than he already has. 

“It doesn’t have to be like that… we can work something out. I can figure something out. I just – I just don’t want you to regret this, regret us… Just give me some time to think and I can –”

You quietly stopped him with a shake of your head, letting him know that it was okay. “It’s okay, you belong in LA, where your life is now. And I belong in Seoul, where my life is now – I know that much. I can’t ask you to uproot your life and give up the band, nor could I leave Seoul given everything happening at home. Just know that I don’t regret this, not at all. However, it’ll be quite sad when morning comes.”

Jungkook could only nod at the heaviness of your words. While they were a hard pill to swallow, they were correct. Both those things rang true in his head. He ached for you so much now he had another taste of life with you, but you both knew there was nowhere to go from here. By late noon, you’ll already be on a flight back to Seoul and he’ll be headed to Vienna to start the European leg of Bring the Soul’s tour. 

“I’ll be sad when morning comes, too. Irrevocably sad.” Jungkook knew that would be the extent of all he could say then. 

Silently, he sat upright where he led you to rest your head in his lap. He looked down at you fondly, a matching bittersweet expression on his face as he began to stroke your hair. A quiet promise was exchanged between you both to enjoy these last moments of intimacy before the sun rose. 

You both had fallen asleep on that rooftop lounge. Then you woke up around 6AM to Jungkook trying to get you up, talking about taking you to one more place before the night was officially over. Eventually, you both were jogging out of the luxury apartment building, hand in hand, as the two of you entered the subway station to head southwest to the piers to catch the sunrise. 

It was a solemn train ride, to say the least. Both of you avoided each other’s eyes on the ride, like anxious teenage lovers who experienced their first quarrel. It was hell, and the time when you both got off at your correct stop couldn’t have come sooner. His hands still intertwined with yours as you walked off into the morning world, the sun beginning to make its appearance known. The morning’s dew still coated the patches of grass as you both traveled to the edge of the pier which overlooked the water. 

At this point, the blue hour had long passed as the bright star that is our sun began to peek through the horizon. The sky turned from midnight blue to a vibrant yellow with hints of orange. That’s it. This is it…

The morning had officially come. 

You cursed every cliched metaphor referencing the elusiveness of time… the grains of sand slipping through fingertips, the ticking of clock hands that echo in the back of your head, the passage of breezes, and the eventual rising of the morning sun. 

Jungkook smiled gently, wiping away a tear with his thumb which you didn’t even feel form as it fell down your cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“I just want you to know that I loved being in this moment. Sharing this night with you, that tonight it felt like New York was all ours. I could have never seen its beauty and experienced its magic the way I did with you.” Barely managing through your cries, you gasped for a breath as you tried to make out the next words. “But why did things have to turn out this way?”

The loud caws of the seagulls as they flew over the pier and the cold morning air fell onto forgotten senses as the only thing you could feel was the intensity of Jungkook’s stare on you. From your forehead that he placed a tender kiss upon, to your eyes that mirrored that silent longing his contained, the nose that he nuzzled against his, and chin that he held softly in his rough hand… It was like he was taking a picture of you at that moment. A moment where he was not rockstar Jeon Jungkook, but the Jungkook who always found a way to make you laugh and the Jungkook you dreamed of sharing matching rings with. And you were not the person living too fast for anyone to keep up with, but a person who could find the beauty in anything and the person that Jungkook could write a million and one songs about.

“Shh,” he comforted you as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I really can’t thank you enough for tonight… I’ve never hated to see morning as much as I do now.” He chuckled dryly at the irony of all. 

You pulled back, surprising the man who towered over you. You held his confused face in your hands and smiled. “Me, too. I hope you know that.”

“I do now…” He whispered as though louder words could break the moment before placing a chaste kiss on one of the hands that cupped his face.

“Now what?” Your hands fell from his face and rested on his chest. 

Jungkook sighed in contemplation as he peered past you into the blossoming orange horizon before recentering his eyes on you and grin losing its warmth, being replaced with sadness. “Good morning, I guess.”

The gravity of the situation settled upon you both silently.

“None of that dramatic ‘goodbye’ shit in the morning!” You tipsily pointed at Jungkook with your beer who only laughed at your theatrics as some foam spilled.

Between chuckles, Jungkook was barely able to let out. “Okay, then what do we say at the end? When it’s morning?”

“What people always say at that time – ‘good morning’ and not goodbye. Let’s make it a nice ending for us, I feel like that would do us both justice.” Your gaze was too hazy to see the seriousness that lined his face but he shook it off and plastered his signature smile despite the storm in his heart. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I don’t want to be sad in those last minutes with you.”

“Okay, we’ll bid each other ‘good morning’ when dawn comes then we go on with the rest of our lives. No sad stuff.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Good morning, Jungkook.” No matter how dazzling your smile was, Jungkook could never be distracted from the tears that lined your gorgeous eyes. 

No physical closeness could ever combat the weight of what daybreak meant for you both.

“For JK?” The driver of the Uber called out of the window as he pulled up. 

You and Jungkook stood before each other again, hand in hand for the final time. You squeezed his rough hand, a wordless command of it’s time to let go. And just like that, his hand – despite its hesitation – followed and released its grip on yours. No matter how disheveled you both may have looked from the sleepless night of journeying, it all felt surreal.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Good morning, Jungkook.”

Then one more quick kiss before you had gotten into the car he ordered for you and began the journey back to your life. A life without Jeon Jungkook. You rode with the window down, taking the sight of New York in a new day’s light. It felt so foreign and so different from the New York you experienced in the last fifteen hours with Jungkook. That taxi driver was right, you were convinced, that New York was a magical place and had so much more to offer. 

You abruptly felt something wrinkle in the pocket of your jeans as you adjusted yourself in the backseat of the car. Reaching in, you fished out a Katz’s Deli napkin and remembered how Jungkook was writing on it when you had excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You carefully unfolded the napkin and read what was written on it: I’m sure by the time you’ll see this, you would’ve given me the most memorable night I could never forget even if someone were to beat it out of me. I’m dreading sunrise as I write this right now. Though, I’ll hold close what tonight has in store for us. I don’t know if our paths will ever cross again, but I’m sure that this was the most beautiful sunrise I could ever experience because it was with you.

You pondered the possibilities as the heartache fully set in from reading his note. What if you told this Uber to turn around right now? What if you stayed longer? What if you took Jungkook’s offer to figure something out? What if you didn’t have to say goodbye on that forsakenly beautiful pier? What if?

However, it no longer mattered. 

This was the reality you both lived in. 

You had the connection, felt it again, and let it take its course. 

That was what mattered. No what ifs, maybes, or perhapses. What matters is only what happened and that it, in fact, did happen. 

Jungkook watched your car disappear into the morning traffic commute, gone was the warmth that you both shared on that chilly spring morning. He began to laugh at himself, at how cruel the universe was. It could have been perfect. It could have been the ultimate love story. It all could’ve. 

Jungkook kicked a random pebble in his path as he finally looked at his phone log after putting his phone on Do Not Disturb for the whole duration with you.

Min Yoongi | 2 Missed Calls

FROM: Min Yoongi | Where the fuck did you run off to?

Park Jimin | 6 Missed Calls

FROM: Park Jimin | Yah, where’d you go??

FROM: Park Jimin | Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid I swear to god Jeon Jungkook 

Kim Taehyung | 5 Missed Calls

FROM: Kim Taehyung | You bastard, don’t tell me you went off to explore New York on your own

FROM: Kim Taehyung | Broooo, you didn’t even check in to your hotel room? You should’ve told meeeeeee

FROM: Kim Taehyung | You’re so foul for leaving me just to be bored while you went on a night adventure of the city that never sleeps smfh

Manager Sejin | 13 Missed calls

FROM: Manager Sejin | Kid, where the HELL did you go? Call me back asap

FROM: Manager Sejin | Jungkook this isn’t funny

Jungkook laughed at the missed notifications from the group and his manager before giving Yoongi a call back, reasoning that he would be the most level-headed given all the missed notifications after sending a quick message. 

TO GROUP: Bring the Soul | Hey, I’m ok lol. I’m at the pier

The caller's ring sounded twice before Yoongi picked up groggily, but still picked up nonetheless. “Where the hell did you go last night?”

“Just hanging around. New York is a magical place, hyung.” Jungkook responded vaguely but Yoongi caught the hint of bittersweetness in the younger’s tone. 

“Alright… We’re about to get breakfast at a restaurant close to you. I’ll text you the address. Meet us there by 9AM.”

“Sounds good, hyung.”

“Okay. And uh… are you alright?” 

Damn Yoongi’s intuition, Jungkook thought to himself and sighed into the receiver of his cell phone. 

“Yeah… it’s a damn good morning after all.” 

© bbangtans | please do not re-distribute in any way without permission.

[yellowocaballero]

Miguel is Fine, Actually (Being Spider-Man's Just Toxic As Hell)

Before I watched ATSV I said that I would defend my man Miguel O'Hara's actions no matter what, because he's always valid and I support women's wrongs. I was joking, and I did not actually expect to start defending him on Tumblr.edu. But I'm seeing a lot of commentary that's super reductive, so I do want to bring up another perspective on his character.

Miguel wasn't acting against the spirit of Spider-Man, or what being Spider-Man means. Miguel isn't meant to represent the antithesis of Spider-Man. Miles is the antithesis of Spider-Man. Miguel represents Spider-Man taken to its extreme.

Think about Miguel's actions from his perspective. If you were a hero who genuinely, legitimately, 100%, no doubt about it, believed that somebody is going to make a selfish decision that will destroy an entire universe and put the entire multiverse at severe risk - if you had an over-burdened sense of responsibility and believed in doing the right thing no matter what - you would also chase down the kid and put him in baby jail to try and prevent it. He believed that he was saving the multiverse, and that Miles was putting it in danger for selfish reasons. Which is completely unforgivable to him, because selfishness is what he hates the most. And then he goes completely out of pocket and starts beefing with a 15yo lmfaooo he's such a dick.

But why did Miguel believe that? Why did he believe that Miles choosing himself and his own happiness over the well-being of others was the worst possible thing? Why did he believe that tragedy was inevitable in their lives, and that without tragedy Spider-Man can't exist?

Because he's Spider-Man.

Peter Parker was once a fifteen year old who chose his own happiness over protecting others. It was the greatest regret of his life and he never forgave himself. Peter's ethos means that he will put himself last every time, and that he will sacrifice anything and everything in his life - his relationships, his health, his future - to protecting and helping others. Peter dropped out of college because it interfered with Spider-Man. He destroyed his own future for Spider-Man. He ruins friendships and romantic relationships because Spider-Man was more important. If Peter ever tries to protect himself and his own happiness, then he's a bad person.

That is intrinsic to Peter. Peter would not be Peter without it. A story that is not defined by Peter's unhappiness is not a Spider-Man story. If Peter doesn't make himself miserable, then he's just not Peter.

That is a Spider-Man story: that not only is tragedy inevitable, that if you don't allow yourself to be defined by your tragedy then you're a bad person. If you don't suffer, then you're a bad person. If you ever put anything above Spider-Man, then you're killing Uncle Ben all over again. Miguel isn't the only one that believes this - as we saw, every Spider-Man buys into what he's saying. There's no Spider-Man without these beliefs.

Miguel attempted to find his own happiness, and he was punished in the most extreme way. He got Uncle Ben'd x10000. He tried to be happy, and it literally destroyed his entire universe. It's the Spider-narrative taken to the extreme. Of course Miguel believes all of this. Of course he believes this so firmly. He's Spider-Man. That's his story. And the one time Miguel tried to fight against that story, he was punished. And like any Spider-Man, he'll slavishly obey that narrative no matter the evil it creates and perpetuates. Because if he doesn't, the narrative will punish him. The narrative will always punish him. It's a Spider-Man story.

I don't think the universal constant between Spider-Mans, the thing that makes them Spider-Man, is tragedy. I think it's the fact that they never forgive themselves. And Miguel is what that viewpoint creates. He doesn't believe this things because he's an awful, mean person. He believes them because he's a hero. He's a good person who hates himself.

Across the Spider-verse isn't really a Spider-Man story. It's a story about Spider-Man stories. Miguel's right: if this was a Spider-Man story, then Miles acting selfishly really would destroy the universe. But Miles' story isn't interested in punishing him. It pushes back against Peter's narrative that unhappiness is inevitable and that you have to suffer to be a good person. It says that sometimes we do the right thing from love and not fear, and that Peter's way of thinking is ultimately super toxic and unhappy. ITSV was about Miles deciding that he didn't need to be Peter Parker, that all he needed to be was Miles, and ATSV is about how being Peter Parker isn't such a good thing. Miguel shows that. Whatever toxic and unhealthy beliefs he holds - they're the exact same beliefs that any Spider-Man holds. He's a dick, but I don't think he's any more awful a person than Peter is.

TL;DR: Miguel isn't a bad person, he just has Spider-Man brainrot.

[makoodles]

ミdaddy issues

part one | part two

🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader

🍓tags: nsfw, interspecies relationship, temporarily one-sided attraction, second-hand embarrassment, vaginal sex, oral sex, (v brief) anal fingering, dirty talk (it's quaritch, come on)

🍓word count: 14k (there's literally nothing i could say to excuse this)

masterlist

Miles Quaritch is the kind of man whose reputation precedes him.

Everyone has heard of him. His ruthlessness and his skill are legendary, his authority absolute. The army guys talk about him like he’s the stuff of myth, the scientists talk about him like he’s the biggest bastard to ever walk the earth. Even before he had returned to life as a recombinant, he was positively infamous. Now though, his return has raised his reputation to near mythological status.

But it’s not just his name and reputation that is known around Bridgehead City. Recently, your crush on him has become equally as infamous.

It’s not your fault. It's not like you’re trying to make it obvious. The man is just so damn fine, blue or not. In the beginning, all you do is appreciate his form from a distance. It’s not like you see him all that often, anyway, so your admiration is mostly contained to quick glances in corridors and across the mess hall, whenever you spot him talking with his squad or walking with any of the higher ups.

 It’s perfectly innocent! There’s nothing wrong with having a little crush on someone that will never notice you, after all.

The problem is that your crush, while innocuous, isn’t exactly subtle.

“Quaritch, huh?” It’s Anjali that asks, an older, pretty microbiologist with a sometimes off-puttingly blunt manner.

You pause, but don’t look up from the microscope you’ve been peering into. For a moment, you consider denying it. But what’s the point? If she’s asking, that means that she’s already noticed your shy, flustered glances in the colonel’s direction.

“Yeah,” You sigh, a little defeated. “I guess.”

Because you’re so focused on the plant specimen you’re studying, you don’t notice the way all the others in the lab start looking over, clearly eavesdropping. If you had, you might have backtracked – maybe you would have downplayed your embarrassing little crush.

“He’s just...” You fiddle with the glass slide beneath the lens, still fighting not to make eye-contact with Anjali. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

Anjali snorts. She’s an older lady, with her grey-streaked hair scraped back into a severe bun, accentuating her harsh appearance. She’s working on her own report one desk over from you, but you can still see the way that she’s peering over her glasses at you.

“Is he?” She asks archly. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t see around his enormous sense of entitlement.”

You laugh a little awkwardly, and duck your head back down. God, you don’t know how else you expected that conversation to go. Everyone knows that Quaritch’s overzealous attempts to exert control over Pandora was what caused the whole war and resulted in the human population being forced off-planet all those years ago. Damn, you know that too! 

But it’s not as though you like him as a person or anything! He’s not even really the same man as the one that did all that. Your fascination with him is really just… aesthetic appreciation.

“I just think he’s attractive, you know?” You mumble, embarrassed. “I don’t know what he was like as a human, but… I don’t know. There’s something about the- the height, and the muscles-”

“Oh, spare me.” Anjali mumbles sourly.

“You asked!” You snap, mortified. “I’m just saying-!”

That’s when another voice cuts in.

“He could break you in half with his pinkie finger.” Dr. Geiszler points out from a desk behind you. He’s not even trying to pretend that he’s not listening in, leaning right over his workspace as he eavesdrops.

Your eyes widen a little, and for the first time you realise that nearly everyone else in the laboratory has been listening in the whole time. Your face grows hot with humiliation, and you shrink a little in your stool. Oh fuck, why did they all look so interested? 

Geiszler watches your reaction, and then his face slackens in an expression of realisation. “Oh shit, you’re into that.”

You genuinely can’t think of anything more humiliating right now. They’re all looking at you as though you’ve just grown an additional head.

“Oh, fuck off!” You say reflexively, scowling at them all. “You can’t pretend like you haven’t ever thought that the Na’vi are sexy!”

Anjali looks as though she’s just sucked on a lemon, but several other scientists start shiftily avoiding eye contact.

Geiszler just snorts. “That’s different. We’re not talking about just any Na’vi here, we’re talking about Quaritch!”

“He’s old enough to be your father.” Anjali points out, clearly disapproving. “Maybe even your grandfather.”

“So?” You say without thinking, before realising that this isn’t really an argument that you want to get into. “I mean- Not in his current body! No, fuck, I don’t mean- fuck. Look, can we just forget about this? Pretend I never said anything!”

Mercifully, they go silent at that, though you can still hear the faint sound of someone snickering in the back of the lab. They may not say anything more, but you’re all too aware that they’re still looking at each other and smirking. Laughing at you. 

You hunch your shoulders and keep doing your work. You wouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty over something as stupid as a harmless little crush that you can’t control. You wouldn’t.

Bridgehead really isn’t all that big, so you see the colonel semi-regularly. It’s always from a distance, but it’s still enough to give you a good look at those long legs, those big muscles, and that lithe, narrow waist. If you’re truthful with yourself, you go out of your way to organise your paths crossing.

You’re not even a fully-qualified scientist just yet. You don’t actually have an official title – you’re more like an intern. You work under the highly decorated scholars in xenobotany, running tasks and projects for them as part of your doctorate degree. You had been allowed out here to Pandora as part of your degree, in order to get the experience you needed to qualify, and it has treated you well so far. The whole internship position means that you have a little bit more freedom with regards your schedule, which works just perfectly for you.

So, yeah. What started out as innocent admiration has turned a little… stalkery. You’re willing to admit that. But it’s harmless! 

So what if you know Colonel Quaritch’s schedule off by heart? So what if you linger around the areas that you know he frequents at opportune moments, like just after his workouts or drills? It doesn’t really matter if your eyes linger around his big biceps and his sculpted chest, especially when his deep blue skin is all heat-flushed and sweaty, right? And it surely doesn’t matter if you wander past the Recombinant areas of the base far more frequently than you need to, right? It’s not as if anyone is going to notice.

It doesn’t really matter how much you stare, because the colonel is utterly oblivious to your attention. He never notices you, not even once. And that’s fine too, you tell yourself. It makes it easier, in fact! You can admire him all you want if he never looks at you, after all.

It gets a little bit more challenging to hide where your attention is straying when other people start to figure it out.

It’s like your little crush is an inside joke in the science department. The scientists on base tend to be pretty good at minding their own business (mostly because they’re usually so damn focused on their own work and little projects), but in this case you’ve become an endless source of amusement for them.

You can see the way the entire xenobiology department giggle together when you perk up at dinnertime as soon as the Recombinant soldiers enter the mess hall, and you know that they’re nudging each other when your attention strays to the Colonel as he eats. He’s got such sharp teeth, and your eyes fixate on him as he licks the sorry excuse for food he’s been served off his canines.

When you start dressing up a little bit more, the science guys start sharing smirks. It’s a little bit humiliating, but honestly you think you’re starting to lose your sense of shame. You start wearing tight little pencil skirts and thin blouses, under the guise of professionalism, and you start to do your makeup a little bit heavier too. Quaritch never so much as bats an eyelid in your direction.

“Not that I’m complaining, per se,” Geiszler drawls one afternoon, leaning lazily against the worktop as you painstakingly organise tissue samples. “But aren’t you trying a little too hard?”

“Shut up.” You grumble, chewing on your stick lip-glossed lower lip. “It’s just a skirt.”

“Right.” He drawls, eyes trailing down over the length of your body as you shift on your uncomfortable little stool. “And the makeup?”

“It’s not breaking any uniform protocols.” You say simply, scratching just under your eye. 

Geiszler sniffs, amused. “Is it true you’ve been following around the xenobiologists when they go to check on the recoms?”

You peer very closely at the tissue sample in your hands, a little more closely than entirely necessary. “Maybe.”

“Jesus.” He lets out a short, disbelieving sort of laugh. “Fuck. Why? D’you get off on being ignored or something?”

That’s a little crass, and you raise your head to scowl at him. He really doesn’t need to rub it in like that – it’s pretty damn obvious that your crush is unrequited. It’s cruel to point it out like that. 

“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t notice,” You mutter, aggravated. “I’m just- I just like looking, that’s all.”

Geiszler snorts again, but he appears to be somewhat sympathetic now. “Right. Just looking.”

Finally, you tear your attention away from the samples so you can scowl at him. “What do you want, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I want to put you out of your misery.” He replies simply, leaving his elbows against the worktop and smirking at you. “Recoms are being sent out tomorrow. Just a small run – Ardmore wants to put those new bodies to the test before she sends them out after Sully.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask as though you’re not hanging onto every damn word.

“They’re heading to the lowlands, at the base of the mountains,” Geiszler levels you with a significant look. “You know what that means, right?”

You perk up instantly at that, your eyes growing wide.

“Panopyra.” You breathe.

Your entire damn doctoral dissertation is centred around the unusual, jellyfish-like plants that grow on other Pandoran plants. It hovers somewhere between plant, animal, and fungi, having evolved a primitive sort of nervous system. It grows a cuplike body that collects water from dew and fog and condenses it down into a thick, syrupy sort of liquid. That liquid is then collected by the native Na’vi for use in their healing drinks. It is that medicinal property that fascinates you so much.

“Yeah, I thought that might get your attention.” Geiszler grins. “You’ve run out of the samples you’ve been using, right? You’re not gonna be able to write any more of your thesis without more specimens.”

“Yes,” You breathe, your brain already scrambling to think of all the things you need to do. “I need- oh, I need some cuttings of the sensory tissue, and I need a lot more samples of the internal liquid. The stems, too-”

“Right, right,” Geiszler interrupts, nodding. “The problem is, it’s just the Recoms being sent out. They’re not bringing any of the science team.”

Your shoulders sag a little at that. How are you meant to get a proper sample if there’s no one qualified to take samples going on their reconnaissance trip?

As if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, Geiszler’s smile turns a little sly. “If you want those samples, you’re gonna have to ask the big man in charge of the mission to bring some back for you. And you’re gonna have to ask real nicely.”

Colonel Quaritch’s office is empty when you call at it, and so you’re forced to go searching for him.

You find the recoms in the little recreation room just off the hangar designated for soldier use – Na’vi-sized beanbags had been thrown into it as an afterthought for the recom soldiers, and it’s almost comical to walk in and find so many of them sprawled across the squishy chairs. Some of them have instead decided to squeeze them into the regular armchairs, with one Na’vi-sized body occupying an entire sofa. They’re playing poker of all things; they’ve been provided with a set of over-sized playing cards and everything.

They’re a rowdy bunch, shouting and roaring with laughter, and so they don’t immediately spot you when you edge your way into the room. For a moment, you think that the colonel isn’t here. But then you take another look, and you spot him. 

Quaritch is standing to the side, his spine taut and his shoulders back and straight. It’s a very formal position just for watching his squad relax, but there’s a certain softness to his expression as he watches them that you’ve never seen from him before. Your heart skips a beat; this is the most unguarded that you’ve ever seen him, and your eyes fixate on his face eagerly as you try to drink in all the details.

It’s Fike that notices you first.

“Aw, man,” He groans, tilting his head back dramatically before gesturing at you with his cards. “Not another checkup. We told the other doc, if something feels wrong we’ll tell you-”

“Ah, no.” You’re beginning to get flustered. Fike’s exclamation has drawn the attention of the other recoms, and all of a sudden you feel as though you’ve been placed under a spotlight. “I’m- I’m not actually a doctor!”

There’s a very brief pause, and then one of the female soldiers sits up from her beanbag to squint at you. You think this one is Walker.

“Why are you here all the time, then?” She asks. “Weren’t you here for our checkup yesterday?”

Oh. They had noticed. Embarrassed heat is beginning to build in your cheeks, and you can’t help but dart a quick look over at where Quaritch is still leaning against the wall. For the first time ever, he’s looking right at you. The realisation sends little jolts of electricity racing up your spine. His expression is entirely neutral, almost bored, but that doesn’t matter. He’s seeing you.

“I was just, um, shadowing the xenobiologists,” You say quickly, “For my internship.”

One of the other recoms turns to another and mouths 'internship’, and they both start to snicker. You pretend not to notice.

“And what does the intern want with us?” Fike asks, already having turned back to his cards.

It’s terribly embarrassing having to stand here and have these 9-foot-tall soldiers basically look you up and down before disregarding your entire existence. But you’re here now, and you have to push through.

“I’d..” You begin, before your throat goes dry and you have to clear your throat before trying again. “Could I please speak to the colonel?”

All the snickering and whispering dies down for a moment as the recoms look at you before swinging their heads around to look at their superior officer. There’s a moment of silence, but then the subtle sniggers start right back up again.

“So polite,” one of them whispers, and you feel yourself burn with embarrassment. But it doesn’t matter how many of them are sharing smirks or whispers, because Colonel Quaritch has pushed himself off the wall and is beginning to step towards you.

Oh god, he’s so big. You have to actually tilt your head back just to look at his face as he comes to a stop in front of you, and you begin to fidget nervously with your fingers. Up close, he seems so much bigger. Every movement has the skin around his muscles flexing, and you have to work hard not to stare like an absolute moron. 

He doesn’t crouch or bend down to make it easier for you to talk to him. Instead he just raises a brow, clearly waiting for you to speak.

“I, um- hello,” You start off clumsily, growing flustered under the weight of his intense, golden gaze. God, does he even realise how intimidating that is? “I was wondering if- I mean, I heard that you’re being sent out into the Pandoran lowlands tomorrow, and I was wondering if you might be able to bring me back something-”

God, you sound like such an idiot. There’s no way he doesn’t notice the way your voice trembles, or how you can’t quite meet his eyes, or how you keep stumbling over your words, but he just watches you evenly with no expression on his handsome face.

You fumble for the datapad that you brought with you, tapping clumsily at the screen before holding it up for him. His eyes dart to the photograph that’s being displayed, but he still doesn’t speak.

“This is panopyra.” You say, and your voice grows a little stronger. This, at least, is something you feel comfortable talking about. “It’s a plant that’s displaying characteristics of a new line of evolution toward a primitive nervous system. My entire dissertation is focused around my research into this plant, and I really need some samples. The body of it is hollow, and it collects a liquid inside-”

Finally, Quaritch speaks. 

“We ain’t bein’ sent out to do gardening.” His voice is deep and rumbly, edged with that Southern drawl. It has a hint of danger, even when he’s not actually threatening anything.

“I know!” You say hastily. “I know that. I just thought- I thought that maybe if you happened to see one, you might be able to take a sample of the liquid inside of it and, um… and bring it back.”

You end up trailing off a little pathetically, feeling overpowered by his intense stare. God, he looks so unimpressed with you right now. You bite your glossy lip and try not to shrink into yourself entirely.

At last, Quaritch sighs and holds out his hand. “Give me that thing.”

You hand over the datapad at once, your eyes growing wide at the possibility of him actually accepting. Asking for this favour had served the dual purpose of fulfilling your work needs and getting to talk to him, but you hadn’t actually expected him to agree.

He squints at the photograph on the screen, and swipes lazily through the mass amounts of text accompanying. “I ain’t reading all that shit. Give me the run-down on it.”

You had actually written ‘all that shit’, but no matter.

“It grows similar to a fungus, so you’ll likely find it attached to trees or other plants,” You rush to explain, excitement beginning to bubble up into your chest. “You won’t be able to take an actual sample of the tissue without damaging it, so forget about that. What I really would like is a sample of the fluid that collects inside the cup on top, see?”

His eyes follow you as you reach up on your toes to point out what you’re referring to in the photograph, and his ears flick back in acknowledgement.

“It poisonous?”

You hesitate a moment. “...No.”

Quaritch shoots you a look of obvious disbelief. “You wanna try that again?”

“It’s not poisonous.” You say, a little bit more convincingly this time. “But it does have a sort of defence system. Just… don’t touch the little tendrils.”

Quaritch’s face is set in stern disapproval, but he isn’t saying no. 

“I’ll provide you with the instruments you need,” You continue, starting to bounce a little on your toes at the prospect of him agreeing. You really need these samples. “Oh, I’d be so grateful!”

There’s a muffled sound from somewhere over your shoulder, where the rest of the recoms are no doubt watching and listening with great interest, but you don’t turn. Quaritch’s gaze flickers only momentarily towards them, and they silence instantly. God, he’s so effortlessly commanding.

When he looks back to you, he just sighs through his nose and hands you back the datapad. “Fine. Send me the details.”

For a moment, you just stare at him. It takes a beat to register that he’s just agreed, and then a wide, beaming grin begins to grow across your face.

“Thank you-!” You start to squeal, but he cuts you off with a quick wave of his hand.

“Cut that out,” He grumbles, already beginning to scowl as he steps back. “Never let it be said by Ardmore that I was unco-operative with the goddamned science department, yeah?”

You’re not willing to press your luck any further than you already have. You just nod, a little frantic, before sending him one last smile and scurrying your way out of the room. The laughter from the rec room follows you all the way up the corridor, but you don’t care – you’re getting your samples and you just had your first conversation with Quaritch. He looked at you, he spoke to you. He knows you exist!

You’re smiling to yourself the entire way back to the lab, flushed with the pleasure of your success.

For the next couple of days, you’re waiting on tenterhooks for the recoms return. 

You still work away on your projects and your research, but you’re hyper-attuned to everyone that comes and goes from the lab. It’s not as though you’re really expecting the recoms to come into the lab, but you’re listening desperately for any news of their return.

The day before they’re due to arrive back to base, Geiszler comes to irritate you at your desk.

“Go away.” You grumble before he can say a word.

“Oh, come on!” He laughs. “I come bearing gifts!”

That catches your attention, and you raise your head from your work to squint at him. He’s standing there with a stupid sort of grin on his face, the kind that makes you uneasy, and his hands are tucked behind his back.

“What?” You ask suspiciously.

With a flourish, Geiszler pulls his arms out from behind his back. When you see what’s in his hands, you nearly scream.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with you-!” You hiss, whirling around to look frantically over your shoulders.

Mercifully, there’s no one around to witness the enormous blue dildo in his hands as he offers it up to you.

Geiszler is laughing, as though this is just the funniest shit he could have imagined. “Oh, the look on your face-!”

“Get that away from me!” You hiss, scandalised. “Oh my god, you do realise that I could report you for workplace sexual harassment-”

“But you won’t, because we made this specially for you-”

“We?” You hiss in disbelief. “Who the fuck is we?”

Geiszler waves that away as though it’s unimportant. “Me and some of the other guys in xeno. Look, it gets boring in the lab. We thought this was funny. It’s a Na’vi dildo, to scale. You’re welcome.”

“You are such an asshole.” You snap, mortified. “God, what is wrong with you!”

Geiszler just snorts, and places the big dildo on your desk, right in the middle of your papers. It’s almost comically large, made with bright blue silicone and featuring a prominent, squishy head. It’s even ribbed down the underside, with bumps that admittedly look rather attractive. Your face burns at the sight of it.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that 3D-printed-” 

“Take it back!” You pick it up and try to push it at him, but he’s already backing away with his hands up in the air. The stupid prick is laughing at you. 

“Nu-uh! It’s all yours!” He’s already backing away, all sniggers. “You can imagine the colonel-”

“Oh, you freak! That is so invasive-!” You nearly drop the dildo entirely, both horrified and mortified. 

Oh my god, it was to scale. This was the size of what the colonel was packing? It feels as though the silicone is burning in your hand, and you feel horribly hot and prickly. Oh, this was such an invasion of the colonel’s privacy. Whether it was the standard size of a Na’vi cock or not, the idea of using it while imagining Quaritch over you has you flushed and embarrassed.

Geiszler is still laughing when he ducks out of the lab, leaving you alone and absolutely humiliated.

After that, you avoid the lab. You know that the scientists all think that your crush on Quaritch is just one big joke, and you really don’t want to see them all smirking and sniggering when they see you, and you really don’t want to have to field any sly comments about the stupid dildo. 

You’ve been too mortified to even look at it too closely, so you take it and hide it away under a load of papers in a separate work area that’s usually used as storage. You’ve been hiding away in this separate little work room for days now; you can’t do any important experiments here, but it’s as good a place as any to work on your dissertation and at least you can be alone here.

You’re in this little work area, typing furiously, when the door slides open behind you with a hiss.

“Geiszler, if you’re here just to harass me again, I will fuck you up.” You bite out without turning, your shoulders turning tense as you glare at your monitor.

There’s a moment of silence, and you hope that he’s taken the hint to go away and leave you alone.

“I’m not sure I appreciate that tone, girl.”

You turn so quickly that you nearly overbalance right off your chair, eyes wide and horrified. The workroom that you’ve practically claimed for yourself is small, with low ceilings designed for human use – that means that Quaritch has had to duck down to fit through the door, and remains standing hunched and visibly irritated, with one hand lifted against the ceiling so he doesn’t hit his head.

“Oh-!” You scramble to get off your chair and fix your skirt, tugging it down straight as you hope and pray that your hair looks alright. “Sir, I- I didn’t realise that you were back!”

Quaritch just grunts. He does not look particularly happy, but he sets a large sample container on one of the empty desk spaces. Inside, it’s filled with a clear liquid that could easily be mistaken for water, but you know better.

“Oh!” You gasp, jolting forward to take a better look. “Oh, such a big sample! This is amazing, thank you!”

Quaritch says nothing, his big alien face impossible to read.

“It better be worth it.” Another voice cuts in, and you jolt in surprise at the realisation that there’s another big blue figure ducking in through the door after Quaritch.

You pause, uncertain in the face of this newcomer and already nervous from Quaritch’s overbearing presence. Oh, god. He’s brought company. Why has he brought company? Another blue head appears over the shoulder of the first soldier, and your eyes dart between them. You’ve spent enough time watching the Colonel to recognise them as Corporal Wainfleet and Private Fike, though you don’t have so much as a passing acquaintance with them.

“I thought you said they were harmless.” Fike grumbles, before raising his hands up to show you rather brutal looking purple bruises along the backs of his hands. “Fucking look at this.”

“Oh.” You breathe, wincing. “No, I said they weren’t poisonous. I did tell you to watch out for the tendrils. The defence system is really quite amazing-”

“Oh yeah, it felt fucking amazing when it was stinging the ever-loving shit out of me.” Fike interrupts, though he appears to have lost interest in speaking to you in favour of peering curiously around the work room.

You can imagine that the place looks fairly dismal; you hadn’t been expecting visitors, so your research is scattered everywhere. Coloured sketches and photographs of cross-sections of the panopyra plant are stuck up on the walls all over, not just around your own desk. You’ve taken advantage of the desks that are never in use, piling your notes and research high all over the place. Writing your dissertation is exhausting work, after all – there is just so much to learn from these plants, so much potential.

“Well, I think that it is worth it.” You say, stepping towards the counter that Quaritch had placed your sample on and reaching eagerly for the beaker. “It’s difficult to get samples like this – there are so few excursions into the jungle these days. But one this size might actually be enough to fuel my research for the next two months at least! I might actually be able to finish my dissertation at last-”

No one is listening to you, you’re quite certain, but you don’t let that deter you as you babble away, raising the beaker to your eye level so that you can examine it. The liquid inside is pure and uncontaminated – the perfect specimen.

“Whoa,” Wainfleet is peering at the sketches on the wall. “You’re really into these weird little plants, huh?”

“They’re the whole reason I’m here on Pandora.” You say matter-of-factly, placing the beaker back down on the desk. “Everything I’m doing here, all my research, is all centred around them.”

It’s the most you’ve ever said in the presence of the recoms, and you find yourself mentally patting yourself on the back. You really are intelligent and driven, though you’re sure that the recoms would never have guessed it based on how moronically you act around Colonel Quaritch. They seem quite surprised to discover that you have actual interests other than their beefy commanding officer.

Fike and Wainfleet both poke around the work room curiously, snickering with each other as they peer blindly into microscopes and push around enormous reference books like big kids.

“Hey, careful with that!” You say reproachfully, though they pay you no mind.

Quaritch himself is still standing silently, taking in the room with alert but judgemental eyes. He doesn’t seem all that impressed by your work, but then again it’s almost impossible to read him. He makes no effort to chide his underlings at all, and they continue messing about unchecked.

“Took us a while to find you.” Quaritch speaks suddenly, and your attention is drawn to him immediately, a swoop of excitement juddering through you at the fact that he’s speaking to you. “You’re not in the lab with the rest of the science pukes.”

Your silly excitement at being on the receiving end of his attention dims a little at that. Science pukes? Seriously? You’ve worked damn hard for this degree! 

“That’s not nice.” You say, then mentally curse yourself. It’s not quite the scathing reproach you had intended – it comes out a little wobbly and uncertain. God, why do you have to come across as such a sad little wet blanket whenever you’re in front of him?

“Not nice?” Quaritch repeats, sounding partially amused and partially disbelieving. “And when have I ever been known for bein’ nice, sweetheart?”

Good lord, he’s terrifying. You don’t normally have a difficult time standing up for yourself, but something about being on the receiving end of that bright yellow stare makes your stomach twist. You don’t know if it's fear or arousal, and you also don't know which would be worse.

“I just mean-” You start, trying hard to keep your voice strong and confident. “That calling people names isn’t nice.”

Calling people names isn’t nice. Fucking hell, you sound like a goddamn five-year-old. What is even happening to you? You swear you’re not normally like this. Has your brain just rotted thanks to all the stupid ogling of his big biceps you’ve been doing? You’re mortified.

“Jesus Christ.” Wainfleet’s voice calls out from somewhere behind you. “What the fuck is this?”

For a moment, you’re desperately relieved that they’ve called attention away from you. Quaritch is looking at you with scathing disbelief for that calling people names comment, and you’re quite sure that whatever he was going to say in response to that would be so biting that you’d wish you were dead.

But then you turn to look at Wainfleet, and you actually do wish that you were dead.

Because in his hand, looking almost regular sized against his much larger body, is that stupid, evil giant blue Na’vi dildo that Geiszler had given you last week. You had stuffed it behind a whole load of old papers on an unused desk and forgotten about it – it was just your fucking luck that these gormless blue bastards would unearth it accidentally as they poked around.

Mortification erupts through your body, so overwhelming that it roots you to the spot. No way. No way. No way.

“Holy fuck!” Fike bursts out laughing, and holds his hands up. “Give that here!”

Nothing can describe the sheer humiliation that sears through you when Wainfleet tosses the dildo to Fike. You just stand there frozen, watching the two enormous Na’vi soldiers throw a huge silicone dick between them in the middle of your workspace.

“Damn, the little intern’s a freak!” Fike says in mock approval, his voice dripping in amusement. 

He makes a show of holding the dildo up to the light and peering at it, faux-admiring the bumps and ridges along the shaft.

“No, that’s not-” You start, and your voice cracks. “That’s not mine-”

You go entirely ignored as the two soldiers roar boisterously.

“Damn, you think of the Colonel when you use this?” Wainfleet asks, cackling as Fike throws it back to him. “Is this why you follow him around everywhere? You want the real thing?”

The humiliation is so intense that it’s actually difficult to breathe around it, stifling and choking. You glance at Quaritch, hoping that by some miracle he’s gone temporarily blind and deaf and has missed this entire exchange so far. The idea of him knowing that you’ve been following him around is shocking, and you feel yourself shrinking.

Quaritch has just pressed his lips together. As you watch, he gives a deep sigh through his nose. 

Your stomach quivers with mortification. Oh my god. He knew already – how long has he been aware of your crush?

“No,” You choke out, your skin burning hot. “No, I don’t- I don’t use that, it was given to me as a joke-”

Quaritch is still so difficult to read, but even still he looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere else right now. His gaze flickers briefly over your face, which is all contorted in mortification as you just barely bite back tears, and he rolls his eyes with a sigh.

“Alright, that’s enough-” Quaritch starts, but it’s too late.

Wainfleet has just reached out and smacked Fike around the head with the dildo, laughing as he did so, and Fike stumbles back with a playful roar as he tries to escape the silicone cock. He throws his arms out to catch his balance, but his big hands splay across one of the work tables and knock some of your reference books to the floor.

But it’s not just the books he knocks into. His hand smacks into that precious beaker full of panopyra liquid, and you let out a startled shout as the force of the blow of his hand breaks the glass container, the liquid inside showering all over the desk with all your papers.

Everyone goes silent, as though the sound of breaking glass signals some kind of change in the atmosphere. 

You let out a sound that’s positively wounded, jerking forward to the destroyed sample. You needed this specimen so badly – it was supposed to inform the research that you needed to finish your dissertation. How long would you have to wait for another sample like this one? You’ve been working on this research for years, and you were so damn close to the end. So damn close to being qualified, to stepping up the ladder and being taken seriously by your peers rather than just being seen as an intern.

“Shit.” One of the recoms mutter; you don’t bother looking up to see if it’s Wainfleet or Fike. “Didn’t mean to-”

Your eyes trace over the mess of broken glass, but then you realise what the sample has broken on and you feel your stomach drop to your feet.

“No!” You shriek, launching yourself forward. 

The recoms all jerk in surprise at your shout, but you pay them no mind. It’s like they’re invisible to you now. All you can see is the way that your papers, your precious research, is being soaked through and destroyed by the liquid that has spilled all over the desk.

“No, no, no, no.” You breathe to yourself, biting hard at the inside of your cheek to keep from crying as you struggle to pick up your research, shaking it out in an attempt to get the worst of the wetness off.

It’s too late. Your research, all your painstakingly-taken hand-written notes, tears like wet tissue-paper in your hands.

You raise your head to look at the three recoms in your workspace, still clutching your destroyed research to your chest. You must look crazed, breathing heavily with wide and wild eyes, because Wainfleet and Fike share a wincing look with each other.

Awkwardly, Wainfleet reaches out and places the large dildo on the counter next to the ruins of your work. Everyone in the room struggles not to look at it.

Quaritch’s jaw is clenched hard, his ears pinned back against the sides of his head. He appears to be holding himself back from shouting, though you’re not sure at who. Slowly, he turns his head to look at his two subordinates, who are now standing with their heads ducked as they try not to make eye contact.

With trembling hands, you drop your ruined research back down on the counter. Your mortification is swiftly being overtaken by pure rage. 

How fucking dare they? It would be one thing for them to mock you about your crush (that apparently Quaritch was already fucking aware of) but it’s entirely another for them to humiliate you by parading around with that stupid fucking dildo that you’ve never even properly touched. And then to go and destroy your sample, the one that you’ve waited so long for and that you needed so desperately for your dissertation? And to destroy a chunk of your existing research too?

“Get out.” You whisper, your fingers shaking as you pluck at the ruins of your papers.

Quaritch sighs through his nose. “Look, we’ll get you another sample of the damn thing. There’s no need to-”

“Get out!” You raise your voice for real, whipping your head up to shout at them. “God, you assholes! Get out!”

Fike laughs nervously, glancing towards Quaritch. That only sets you off even more. They have the audacity to follow their commanding officer into your workspace and mess around, ruining things, and now they’re not going to listen to you after destroying your work? God, they look down on you so much it’s sickening. They’re not even listening to you after humiliating you so soundly, choosing instead to look towards Quaritch as if his opinion matters so much more than yours.

Your rage is only fuelled by your earlier embarrassment, your face flushed with heat as you glare at them. Oh, you’re furious. You can’t remember ever being so humiliated and livid in your life.

“I want you fucking out!” You roar, and when they don’t move you reach for a reference book on the table beside you and launch it at them. “You’ve fucking ruined it-”

Wainfleet ducks to avoid the book that soars over his head, but you’re already reaching for another one. He throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but you’re so blinded by rage that you barely even see it.

“Oi!” Quaritch lets out a shout and steps forward with his hands outstretched as if to physically stop you. “Enough! You’ll be written up for assault if you keep this up-”

You let out an inarticulate noise of fury as you throw a second book, this one bouncing harmlessly off Fike’s shoulder. “I’ll be written up for murder if you don’t get the fuck out of here-”

Wainfleet lets out a sound that sounds like a nervous giggle that’s been choked back. You can imagine that it’s a little bit of a shock for them to see you go from shy and mild-mannered to absolutely fucking insane, but your crush on Quaritch really had made you act like a total idiot around them. You feel so stupid about it now – you had become so enamoured with someone who totally ignored your existence, shrinking into yourself like a goddamn wallflower because you were so shy around him.

But Quaritch is looking at you, for possibly one of the first times ever. Not just looking at you, but seeing you. 

When you grab at a microscope to throw, heavy and metal and definitely capable of doing some damage, Quaritch lets out a sharp hiss and steps forward with a single hand outstretched towards you as though to physically restrain you.

“Get out.” He says without looking at his soldiers.

Wainfleet and Fike share a look with each other before practically scrambling to leave. They can’t seem to leave fast enough, though you have no doubt that they’re snickering together as they go. 

“You too.” You grit out, fists clenched around the microscope as though it’s a weapon. “I want you gone too.”

Despite your obvious anger, Quaritch makes no move to leave. His big honey-coloured eyes trace over the broken glass on your desk, your ruined research, your big teary eyes. You probably look like a mess; you’re practically sweating from all the embarrassment, your hair is in disarray, your eyes are all swollen from the angry tears that are threatening to spill over.

“You need to calm down, darlin’.” He says, his voice low and a little bit rumbly. Ordinarily that might make you melt, but as it is you just feel as though he’s being condescending. “It’s just some goddamn plant water. You’ll get more on the next run.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You snap without thinking, your chest still heaving with poorly stifled emotion. “It’s not just about the sample and you know it.”

Quaritch’s golden eyes cut towards the big dildo on the counter, and you feel your temper flare all over again.

“It’s not about that either!” You snap, embarrassed and defensive. “This research is my life! Without it, there’s no point to me even being here on Pandora. Your fucking knuckleheads have just destroyed months worth of work. Do you have any idea how much harder I have to work than the fucking men out there?”

You gesture towards the door to the main laboratory, where you’re sure they’ve walked past all the overwhelmingly male scientists working away. No doubt they can hear the shouting, but no one has been brave enough to come looking to see what’s wrong. 

Quaritch’s expression doesn’t so much as twitch as he watches you rage, and he doesn’t interrupt.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is just to claw my way up to equal standing with them? They laugh at me enough already, that’s why they gave me that stupid thing-” You wave at the dildo without looking at it. “Just because they knew that I liked you. They laugh at me for having a stupid crush on you, and I… I’m so sick of people looking at me like I’m just pathetic, because I work so hard! And now you’re here, and you’ve just ruined my work-”

Quaritch lets you rant until you run yourself dry. You’re breathing heavily, exhausted and furious and so fucking sick of the sight of him.

“Look, kid.” He says at last, when you pause for breath. “You’re sweet. Pretty. Smart, clearly. But I ain’t looking for anything like that. I need to focus on this mission-”

“Oh, what the fuck.” You breathe, staring at him in total disbelief. “Is that the only part you fucking heard? I have a crush on you, that’s it! All I wanted was for you to look my way, and it took a giant fucking dildo for you to actually acknowledge that you knew about how I felt? You’re such a dick-”

“Hey,” He barks, stepping forward. He’s so huge, his bulk alone throwing you into shadow as he looms over you. “Watch your mouth-”

“No!” You snap, although your voice is a little thin. He really is an intimidating bastard. “No, you don’t get to tell me what to do! God, I am so sick of men thinking they can tell me what to do-”

Quaritch’s chest erupts in a little rumbling snarl, and you have to fight not to flinch away from him. He’s like a beast, lip all curled up over his fangs as he growls at you for your attitude.

“So what, your solution is to hide away in this miserable little room?” He demands, stepping forward just so he can look down his nose at you. “Some of those dickless little science guys were mean to you, so you’re gonna lock yourself away like this?”

“It’s not-”

“What’s the point in dressing up all pretty in those little skirts with all that makeup if you’re hiding away in here, huh?” He continues, insistent as he keeps pushing forward until you start to back up. “Maybe that’s why they don’t take you seriously. You need to stand up for-”

“That’s for you!” You shout, temper flaring up all over again. “I do that for you, because I thought you might look at me!”

Quaritch pauses at that, blinking as though you’ve just taken him by surprise. It infuriates you; how could he be so stupid, especially when he has known about your crush all this time. It’s not like it was subtle.

Suddenly, you feel absolutely exhausted. It’s like every ounce of your energy has been leached out of you, and you turn your head and sigh. The amount of emotions that have washed through you in such a short space of time has left you feeling drained and drawn, and you just want to be left alone now.

“I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You say tiredly, turning away from him and burying your face in your hands. “Just get out. Go away.”

There’s a long pause, but mercifully Quaritch doesn’t try to argue any further. You’re still turned away and facing the wall, so you hardly hear his quiet footsteps as he turns on his heel and marches out of the room. The door whooshes closed behind him, leaving you alone and hunched in the middle of the room.

In hindsight, you may have overreacted with the recoms a little bit. 

You had been careful to back up some of the most important points of your research to your hard drive, so you hadn’t truly lost as much information as you had initially feared. It’s more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, really. The loss of the sample does sting quite a bit, but you’ll get more. It just might take another couple of months – the wait is frustrating, but there’s nothing you can do about that.

All you can do is try to recoup some of the notes that you’ve lost, and struggle to write more based on the samples that you’ve already studied. It’s very difficult to come up with any new material when you don’t actually have anything to work with, but all you can do is your best, as usual.

Geiszler creeps into the small workroom a few days later. 

For several days after the incident with the recoms, none of your colleagues have dared to say a word to you. You’re sure they had heard the shouting, the glass shattering, the sound of you throwing books. If they had somehow missed all that, then they surely would have noticed the recoms that had stalked from the workroom, all agitated and pent up from the argument. Yet none of them have even asked you if you were okay.

“Still avoiding us, huh?” Geiszler asks, his question accompanied with a nervous laugh.

“Fuck off.” You bite out without looking away from your computer screen.

“Ouch.” Geiszler mutters. “I suppose I might deserve that.”

You can hear him approaching, but you still refuse to turn around. You just keep stubbornly working away, acting as though you’re too busy to spare him any attention. Unfortunately, Geiszler doesn’t let your inattention sway him; he just settles in a stool nearby, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I, uh… heard about that little blow up you had with the Colonel.” He says, clearly a little awkward. “I wanted to apologise. Upon reflection, the, uh… the dildo thing might have been a little inappropriate.”

You fight the urge to sigh. God, what did you do to deserve being surrounded with morons like this?

“Yeah, no shit.” You mutter, finally looking up to glare at him. “Why are you here? All I want is to be left alone.”

Geiszler, to your gratification, looks positively shame-faced. He’s looking down at his hands as he twiddles his thumbs, sighing.

“Wanted to apologise, I guess.” He mutters, shrugging.

“Yeah, well, whatever.” You mutter, finally abandoning your attempts to appear busy as you turn to him. “Plenty more Na’vi on Pandora, right?”

A nervous giggle bubbles out of his chest, as though he’s not certain if he’s allowed to laugh or not.

“Yeah, yeah, right.” He says, starting to grin. “And, uh… are you.. Are you strictly Na’vi-sexual, or are you-”

You burst out laughing, turning to look at him in disbelief. “Na’vi-sexual? There’s no way you just fucking asked me that.”

There’s a bizarre sort of blush on his face, but he laughs along with you anyway. “Right, right. Well, you can’t blame me for wondering, right? With your crush, I mean.”

Your smile fades, and you look back down at your work scattered all over the desk. 

“I don’t want to talk about that, actually.” You murmur, “I think I’ve made enough of a fool of myself as is.”

Geiszler nods awkwardly, looking distinctly guilty.

“Yeah. You, um,” He breaks off, scratching uncomfortably at the back of his neck. “You look nice.”

You just raise a sardonic eyebrow at him. You’ve gone without makeup today, and you know that going bare-faced makes you look younger, but who were you kidding with all that makeup, anyway? You’ve abandoned the sleek pencil skirts and pretty blouses, too. Under your lab coat you wear a simple sort of sundress, one that stops just below the knees. No heels, either, just sneakers.

“Yeah, well.” You shrug a shoulder lazily. “No one to impress.”

Geiszler’s smile twists as he nods again. “Sure, sure. Um… look, I was wondering-”

You never do get to know what it is that Geiszler is wondering. The sound of the door to the workroom hissing open cuts him off, and he falls silent as the two of you look to see who has just encroached into your space.

The sight of Quaritch’s big blue form ducking in and then straightening up has the two of you stiffening, staring at him in disbelief. 

You’re absolutely rooted to the spot at the sight of him, but when he turns to look at you, you whirl around and immediately feign being busy. You grab blindly at papers and datapads, and peer unseeingly at your computer screen as you try to look preoccupied. What is he doing here?

Geiszler, meanwhile, doesn’t even try to pretend that he’s not gawking stupidly. 

Quaritch glances his way, and his expression drops into a sneer. “What’re you looking at? Get outta here.”

Irritatingly, Geiszler scrambles to do just that. He sends one last glance towards you before practically fleeing from the room, nervously ducking around Quaritch’s imposingly large figure.

Your eyes bulge a little now that you’re left alone with him, and your eyes dart around frantically around the room in search of something to do. Why is he here? Why the fuck has he come back? It’s been days since your embarrassing breakdown in front of him, and you’ve been blissfully unaware of him since. You’ve basically just locked yourself up in this room, working on your research. You’ve even taken meals here – it’s a much more productive use of your time than wandering around the base after Quaritch in the hopes of catching a good glimpse of his ass in his camo.

Fighting to resist the urge to look his way, you tap urgently at the datapad in your hand.

“Do you need something, Colonel?” You ask icily, your attention focused down on your pad. “I’m very busy.”

There’s a momentary silence, but you’re not willing to look up to see his expression.

“Was that one of the cockless little deadbeats that’s been giving you a hard time?”

Giving you a hard time. God, it sounds as though you’re a bullied little kid. How embarrassing.

“He’s the one that gave me the dildo.” You say simply, tapping on the datapad screen. “But he’s not so bad, I guess. Just a bit of an idiot. That doesn’t answer my question.”

The next pause is much longer.

“Haven’t seen you around.” Quaritch drawls, his voice slow and even. “Couldn’t get away from you, before.”

Oh my god, this man is just determined to humiliate you. 

Pursing your lips, you turn and march towards the specimen fridge in the corner of the room. It’s really just a mini fridge; a low, hip-high box that contains various biological specimens, and you kneel down and stick your head inside in an attempt to look busy.

“Not like there was any need to come see you.” You call out simply, your voice slightly muffled from inside the fridge. “You made yourself pretty clear, before.”

“Oh?” His voice is closer, though his steps are so light that you can’t hear him approach. “About what?”

“About me.” You snap, though you keep your head firmly buried in the fridge. It’s so much easier to talk to him when you can’t see his face. “Just go back to ignoring me, please.”

There’s another long pause, and you keep staring blankly at the bright white wall of the mini fridge. But then a touch comes to your hip, and you jolt in surprise. 

Quaritch’s hand is big and hot, the heat of it searing through the fabric of your labcoat and your sundress. It engulfs your whole damn hip, curving around towards your lower stomach.

“What’s with the change in clothes, sweetheart?” His voice has dropped an octave, rumbling into you as you feel him shuffle closer. “I thought all those little skirts were for me.”

Your fingers clench around the door of the fridge. What the fuck is he doing? All that time you had spent dressed up, made up, simpering like a damn idiot at him, he had barely even given you a sideways glance. But now, after screaming and crying at him like a lunatic, he’s making a pass at you while you’re wearing a simple dress with no makeup. What the fuck?

“I’m not trying to impress you.” You say simply – you feel braver inside the fridge.

“No?” His thumb strokes over your thigh, and you feel the hem of your dress hitch higher. “Well, I like this little number. Better than the others, maybe.”

You swallow thickly, staring blankly at one of the little labeled test tubes beside your face. You don’t answer, but you don’t protest either. Quaritch seems to take your lack of response as encouragement, because his whole hand drifts from your hip to just under your dress. You jerk as you feel the skirt being flipped up over your ass – but you still don’t pull away.

“Hey, kid,” He murmurs, his voice soft and a little condescending. “I gotta question for you.”

His hands are moving slowly, as though waiting to see if you’re going to kick out or try to stop him any way. You know you probably should (where is your goddamn self-respect), but for some reason you allow the touch to travel all the way up your thighs.

Your belly tightens, heat flooding between your legs. Oh god, why aren’t you stopping this? You’re already embarrassed enough about the show of yourself you’ve made in front of him – this is surely going to make it worse by making you seem like a total slut. But then again, you’ve been desperate for him since you first locked eyes on him. Maybe you are a slut.

“What?” You breathe, your voice trembling a little as his big fingers leave red-hot trails over the bare skin on the back of your legs. A large palm strokes over the inside of your thigh, the soft calluses tickling your sensitive skin.

“That dildo. You ever use it?”

The question startles you enough that you jolt, the top of your head smacking into the top of the fridge. 

“What?”

He chuckles, and then you feel those big fingers curl around your cotton panties. “You coming outta there?”

“No,” You blurt, grabbing at the sides of the mini fridge. “No, I’m very busy.”

There’s a sharp tug to your underwear, and you gasp as you feel him pull the back of your panties up so that they’re wedged right up between your ass cheeks, the fabric stretched taut and tight over your cunt. You’re admittedly wetter than you’d like to be, and you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of him noticing.

And yet, you still don’t pull away. If anything, you’re holding your breath, waiting to see what the fuck he’s going to do next.

When you feel warm breath on your exposed ass cheek, you nearly choke. Oh my god, how closely is he looking at you right now? Is his face pressed right up between your legs? It sure fucking feels like it.

“Answer the question.”

You swallow thickly. “I, um.. I don’t-”

His hand twists, and you gasp as your panties are pulled up further. The message is clear – tell the truth.

“Once,” You choke out, mortified. “Just once! I just- I threw it out after, I didn’t-”

You don’t even have time to fully process the fact that you’ve just admitted that. It had been a moment of total weakness, your decision to smuggle that stupid dildo back to your room. Or maybe it had been morbid curiosity – you just wanted to know if you would be able to take it. You had binned it straight after, mortified by your own weakness. 

There’s a sharp pain on the soft pudge of your ass, as though he’s just nipped at you there. Your thighs twitch together, horrified by the little electric zap of arousal that jolts between your legs.

“Could you take it?” He wonders, and you can hear a grin in his voice.

Holy shit, is this happening? Are you dead? Hallucinating? Have you just lost your goddamn mind?

Emboldened by the fact that he can’t see your face where you’ve stuffed your head and shoulders into the fridge, you mumble, “Pervert.”

Two hands grip at your hips, and you let out a wheezing, startled gasp when you feel a wide, rough tongue lick a stripe across your pussy through your panties. His spit soaks through the delicate fabric, making it cling to your already sticky cunt. 

“Whatcha say?” He mumbles, his muffled words vibrating against your clit. He sounds smug, the bastard.

Your thighs clench around his face, but he just reaches up and pushes them back open again with no effort.

“What are you doing?” You gasp out, dropping your forehead down onto the tray of the fridge and making the sample test tubes clink together dangerously.

He huffs a short laugh and pulls his head back to nip right at the juncture of your ass and thigh, making you jolt away from his mouth. “What, you don’t like it? Want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurt, reaching back to try and grab at his head to keep him in place.

He knocks your hand aside, but you can feel him laughing. “Get your head out of that goddamn fridge then, before I drag you out.”

You feel like staying inside the mini-fridge just on principle, but you can’t bear the thought of him pulling his mouth away from you. Not when he’s finally started to touch you, after so long of you yearning for it.

Slowly, you pull your head out. No sooner have you started to move then Quaritch uses his grip on your hips to pull you out. You let out a startled sound as his big hands grab at you and flip you, throwing you on your back in front of him. The display of casual strength is unexpected and very, very attractive, and your legs spread eagerly before he even moves to open them himself.

When you actually get a look at him, it nearly bowls you right over. His pupils are so blown that they’re swallowing his irises, leaving just a thin ring of gold around the edge. His ears are held high and alert, and his mouth is quirked in that infuriatingly cocky little grin right now. 

Fuck, he’s just as horny as you are. The realisation is shocking.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” He asks, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them right off with no effort.

You don’t put up a single ounce of fight, arching your back with an excited gasp as you’re left exposed in front of him with your dress all hiked up around your waist.

He lets out a soft groan as he reaches a finger out and drags it through the folds of your cunt, clearly marvelling at the wetness that has collected there. That same finger slips inside of you and you moan, wanting more, wanting to roll up into it, wanting the ache inside of you filled to the brim.

“Look at you, kid, all sexed up like this.” He says, pulling that finger out and admiring the glistening slick on his hand.

“You’re just a-” You gasp, heaving for breath as you struggle to regain yourself. “A dirty old man!”

That makes him laugh, a low groan of a sound that makes your eye twitch. Holy fuck, does he like being called names?

“Oh yeah?” He rumbles, sounding delighted. He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s licking at you again.

He flattens his tongue and guides it up, sliding across your slit before enveloping your clit in his mouth and sucking. You’re arching into his mouth, breathlessly stuttering his name as your hips twitch. His hands on your hips are so big and so strong, holding you so firmly in place as his mouth devours you. 

The flat of his tongue is rough and textured like a cat’s, and you let out a low gasping sound as it catches against your clit. Two of his fingers push into you as his tongue works over your clit, as thick and meaty as a well-hung cock. He must feel the flutter of your cunt around his fingers, because he growls low, his powerful form all but vibrating with tension. 

Oh god, he’s so big. You had known that, of course, but it’s so different having him all up in your space like this, your legs thrown over the bulge of his biceps as his big head worms its way between your legs, licking insistently at you. The bulk of him is enormous, simmering sexuality about to boil over - it’s insanely arousing to you, the sheer energy of him sending your head spinning. 

The onslaught of sensation from the wet heat of his mouth has your head dropping back to the floor, staring up at the ceiling as your eyes go wide. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and as much as you don’t want to give Quaritch the satisfaction of knowing that he affects you like this, you can't help the way your back bows as he licks and sucks at you. 

He grins against you when he feels you shiver against his mouth. When your thighs clench closed around his head he groans softly against you. Embarrassed, your legs spring back apart, but Quaritch reaches up and grabs at your thighs to prevent them from spreading too wide.

“Squeeze if you want to.” He grunts, before devoting all his attention to licking and sucking at you once more. He tugs encouragingly at your thighs, and when you wrap them tentatively around his head he gives an appreciative little hum.

You shiver, chest heaving. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, his textured tongue rasping over the bead of nerves, a strong white current washes over you and you arch into his mouth as you come.

You can’t speak, can’t think. The feeling is too overwhelming, too all-consuming before the come down eventually starts and words are coming out, your body shaking. 

“Oh fuck, god – oh my god,” you sob, slapping your hand over your mouth, biting down at your palm. “Quaritch– please, shit.”

You jerk your hips up, partially in an attempt to escape from the relentless stroking of his rough tongue over your oversensitive clit, but Quaritch moves with them. He’s basically on his knees following your cunt like a dog as you try to twitch away, using his huge hands on your ass to keep you pulled tight against his mouth.

He goes on licking at your clit and the swollen puffiness of your cunt, and when the rough texture catching against your most sensitive spot gets too much for you, you have to push at his head. He pulls back just slightly, but then continues to lick at the insides of your thighs, as if to lap up every last glimmer of your slickness.

Your head rolls on your neck, all boneless and loose as you wheeze for breath. Jesus Christ, you’ve just come so hard you can’t feel your toes. Colonel Quaritch has just eaten your pussy so goddamn good that you nearly blacked out. What the fuck?

Your cunt is still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when you feel Quaritch’s big fingers pressing inside of you, testing the stretch and slickness.

“You never answered me,” He murmurs, his tone almost conversational despite the huskiness of his voice. “And I hate repeating myself. So tell me; could you take that dildo?”

“Yes,” You sob, twisting your body around as his thumb rolls over your too-sensitive clit. “Yes, I could take it.”

“Yeah?” He says and it comes out on a purr, the vibrations rumbling in between your legs. “Think you could take me?”

You hardly have any idea how you’ve gotten into this position, but you’ve been imagining this for months now. You’re not stupid enough to throw away this chance.

“Why don’t you come and see?” You breathe, leaning back and arching your back boldly. You can hardly believe your own bravery, but maybe your own horniness is just making you stupid.

But Quaritch laughs, as though he finds you stupidly amusing, and his hands drop to his belt. You watch with wide, eager eyes as he flicks open his cargos and pushes them down and oh! There it is.

You push yourself up to get a better look, mouth falling open a little bit as you get a look at his cock. It’s big and blue and ridged, just like the dildo, but you hardly think it’s fair to compare the two. Quaritch’s cock is real, and looks velvety soft to the touch with a prominent, purplish head. Opalescent precum is beading at the tip, tinged slightly blue and glowing a little bit, what the fuck? He’s so hard that it looks a little painful as it strains against his stomach, though he’s still grinning so slyly that you would never guess.

You want to touch, but you don’t get the chance. His big paws for hands close around your hips and flip you again so that you’re on your hands and knees once more – he seems to like you in this position, because his hands grope insistently at the soft flesh of your ass as he grinds his hips into yours, the thick hardness of his cock rutting against the inside of your thighs.

He’s rough with you by human standards, but never enough to hurt. Just enough to send a little thrill up your spine when he pulls your hips into his, the thick ridge of his cockhead beginning to prod at the entrance of your cunt. It’s hot and large, but your mind feels like liquid, too drunk on all the pleasure he’s given you so far to deny more. 

You choke weakly, but you don’t try to wriggle away. You can do this, you can take him. He’s prepared you well, you’re relaxed and so wet, and you had managed to take that dildo inside you, if only for a brief time. You try to stop tensing and relax yourself as you take shaky breaths.

Quaritch pushes his cock in a little further, almost unbearably slow. You feel yourself being stretched open, small stings of pain shooting through you as you drop your forehead to the ground and grunt. One of his big thumbs strokes over the small of your back, the motion soothing and unexpectedly sweet as he slips another inch inside. 

“Oh, fuck.” You squeak, eyes wide. 

You can feel little bumps and ridges squeezing their way inside as he penetrates you, your lungs seizing up. Quiet cries and gasps fall out of your mouth as you adjust to the feeling of his cock filling you up. No human had ever given you this overwhelming sensation before, the feeling of being impossibly stretched open beyond belief. Not even that stupid goddamn dildo had come close to this.

Every time you think the length of his textured cock has finally ended, he’ll push a little more of himself in. You keep your eyes tightly closed as you continue panting heavily. He’s going incredibly slow too, careful and deliberate in his movements. You had stupidly thought that you would adjust quickly, but it feels as though you’re just barely hanging in there. 

Then, finally, Quaritch pauses. It’s a mercy, because your breaths are coming in wheezing pants now as you clench up around his cock, tightening up around the intrusion in flutters. You must be tight to the point of causing pain, but he just lets out a rumbly sort of groan against your back. His hands tense around your middle, impossibly long fingers holding you in place.

Right as you begin to accept the size of him, he uses that grip on your waist to pull you away from his cock and then back down onto him again. It knocks the wind right out of you. You gulp wildly for air, soundlessly. You can’t even cry out, you’re so stunned.

“Fuck,” Quaritch moans. “Like wet velvet, honey. Well done.”

Before you can process or even think, Quaritch pulls out and then pushes back into you, again and again. Every bump drags against your walls and snags on every sensitive part of you. It feels like you had never been fucked before this, the sweet, dull pain and overwhelming sensations of Quaritch looming over your body ruining you. 

He huffs and growls as he begins to thrust up into you, no longer slow and careful. Each time he pistons his hips, it’s powerful and keeps you from taking deep breaths. The way his body presses into yours, the way every part of you touches his burning skin, is intoxicating.

His need, his hunger borders on bestial. His wet breath condenses against your skin as he ruts into you fervently, destroying your thoughts. You’re totally at his mercy, whimpering pathetically and whining. 

It’s all too much, his size, his pace, his sharp teeth nipping the back of your neck and shoulders. He’s like a wild animal, his hard cock burying itself inside you over and over again. It’s the first time that you really begin to appreciate that Quaritch isn’t human anymore – it extends far beyond his looks and into his behaviour and instincts as well. There’s no reprieve; you can only accept his intense pace.

Unbelievably, your abdomen is tensing again, reeling up tighter and tighter. You’re on the brink of coming again, but it feels like it’s impossible. You’ve never been so pleased by a partner before, hardly ever able to come at the hands of someone else, and you’ve never come so quickly twice in succession before. You feel like you’ll die if you come again, it was too much. Everything was too much.

“Come on, mama, let me see that back arch.” Quaritch mutters to you, his voice thick and growling as his big hand settles across your shoulderblades and pushes you down.

All you can do is obey, shivering as his big hand keeps your upper body pinned to the floor, his other hand using its grip on your waist to pull your ass up higher so that he can pound into you at a better angle.

“I’m going to-” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you sob against the floor. “Oh, god, oh fuck, oh shit, I’m going to-”

“Gonna cream on me?” Quaritch grunts, his pace taking the air out of you. “Go ahead, kid. Go on. This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?”

His hips slam into your ass with every thrust, every drag of his cock working those ridges against the sensitive nerves inside of you. You can feel him twitch inside of you, a sure sign that he’s approaching his own release. The thought makes you moan as the strength behind his hips sends you skidding forward on every thrust before getting yanked back by his hands.

Your lashes are all clumped together from tears, your mouth hanging open stupidly – not only are his thrusts knocking the air from you, it feels as though they’re knocking the thoughts from you too. It feels as though he’s giving fucked stupid an entirely new meaning. Your entire world has narrowed down to the sensation of his cock rutting between your legs, his balls grinding against your clit. Your release is winding up in your belly, and you feel your eyes roll and toes curl as it approaches.

“You been watching me, wanting this. If I’d known what a little spitfire you were, maybe I would have given it to you sooner-”

He rocks into you, his pace now rough and deliberate as he claims you in short, fast strokes. Your little workroom is filled with the unmistakable sound of slapping flesh, his hips snapping against your ass with every feral grunt. He has you pinned so firmly beneath him, every thrust feeling as though it’s punching right up into your chest. It aches, and that ache spreads throughout your pelvis, your belly. It’s warm and sweet as syrup. It feels like he's going to break you in half. You think you might want him to break you in half.

“Look at you go.” Quaritch mumbles, seemingly to himself, and then you feel the broad expanse of his hand slap against the soft flesh of your ass. It seems like he just wants to watch it jiggle as he ruts you like an animal. 

He leans forward, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he murmurs to you.“This is what that limp-dicked bitch from earlier wanted with you, you know. Bet he imagined you just like this, all stretched out and wanting on that dildo he gave you. Little pervert. He wouldn’t know what to do with you. Think he’s outside listening? I bet all those cockless motherfuckers are listening right now, trying to imagine what you look like. Let them hear you, honey. Go on.”

It’s too much for you. Your elbows give out, your face smushing against the floor as Quaritch uses his grip on your hips to pull your ass back against him, his huge torso plastering itself against your back. His cock is spearing into you so deep that you feel as though you’re going to feel him inside you like this forever, feel the ghost of his cock plowing into you long after he’s gone. You feel every ridge, every vein, every throb.

“Oh god, oh fuck, shit, please!” You wheeze, shuddering as he fucks you into the floor. “I need to come, I need to come-”

You’re cut off from your babbling when one of Quaritch’s big, thick thumbs hooks into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. You moan, closing your eyes and sucking desperately at his stupid blue finger.

“Fuck, you’re hungry for it, ain’tcha.” Quaritch snickers, but he sounds breathless and a little disbelieving. “And here I was thinkin’ you were such a shy little thing.”

Just as suddenly as his finger had pushed its way into your mouth it’s removed, and you almost whine at the loss of it. But then, to your shock, you feel the spit-slick pad of his thumb stroking over the exposed rim of your asshole. He presses inside, the blunt thickness of his fat thumb wiggling inside as your whole body clenches around the intrusion hard.

With an overwhelmed scream, your entire body pulses like a heartbeat and your vision goes white. Your orgasm rocks through you like fire, as relentless and merciless as Quaritch’s rocking hips as he continues to fuck you through the quivers of your release.

“There you go,” He coos at you like you’re a goddamn animal. “Oh fuck, you needed this, didn’t you?”

Choked moans and hitched breaths bubble out of your mouth uncontrollably. It’s like he’s just been waiting for you to come, because now he loses that edge of controlled restraint that he’d managed to maintain. His thrusting is sloppy, uneven – he’s unmistakably nearing his own finish.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, darlin’.” He snarls. “Look at you gushin’ all over my cock.”

You yelp as he buries himself deep inside of you one last time, a rumbling snarl tearing its way out of his throat. You can feel the ridge of his pubic bone against your ass, his muscular thighs bracketing your own. He is rooted to the hilt, burrowing as far as possible, and you choke at the sensation of impossible fullness.

Quaritch hisses like an animal when he comes, and you squeal at the feeling of his hot come splashing inside of you then overflowing. It’s so hot that it feels as though it’s burning, but Quaritch just keeps going, the squelching shamefully loud in the quiet of the room.

Soon you’re forced to reach back and slap at his hip, gasping for breath and whimpering under the onslaught of his spent cock rubbing so insistently at your hypersensitive sex.

“Enough, fuck! Enough!” You wheeze, your forehead dropping down against the floor in surrender.

There’s a pause, and then Quaritch stops moving, his slowly softening cock buried deep inside and staying there. The heavy weight of him feels good, and you go lax on the floor as his big hands hold you up so lazily. Your chest is still heaving as you try to regulate your breathing, and Quaritch makes a couple of condescending cooing sounds to keep you quiet as he rolls you over beneath him. 

“Ow, fuck.” You breathe when he pulls out of you, leaving you awfully empty and clenching around nothing as you feel the wet dribble of his come spill out of you.

He pauses, glances down at your cunt. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, but Quaritch seems to be immensely satisfied at whatever he sees. He chortles a soft laugh, and reaches down to stroke his fingers through the sticky mess he’s left between your legs.

Your head lolls on your shoulders as you swat at him, grumbling at the electric shiver that the oversensitivity sends through you. He just snickers at your weak attempt to smack his hands away, unphased, and closes his hands around your waist before bodily picking you up to hold you against his chest.

You groan, unhappy to be moved. “Jesus Christ, gimme a minute.”

He ignores you, snorting another quiet laugh before standing with you, unbothered by the way you hang limp in his arms as he carries you towards one of the desks. His breathing is slightly laboured, and he practically drops you on the surface of the desk as he reaches for the respirator that he seemed to have abandoned when he first came in. His determination to fuck you through atmosphere that he struggles to breathe in is admirable; the Na’vi may be able to breathe oxygenated air for up to an hour, but it can be a challenge and that’s without strenuous physical activity.

Still, you can’t help but snicker yourself.

“What's wrong, old man?” You crow at him, grinning as you lay splayed out and exhausted on the desk below him. “Out of breath?”

Quaritch takes deep breaths from the respirator, clearly trying to regulate his body again after so long without proper air, but he still manages to choke a faintly disbelieving laugh.

“You used to be so sweet.” He mutters, slapping lightly at your thigh. It’s not a harsh smack, just enough to have you jolting a little under him. “What the hell happened, huh?”

“You didn’t look twice at me when I was sweet.” You grumble, reaching down to push the skirt of your dress back down self-consciously. “So don’t go acting like you’re disappointed.”

Quaritch snorts. Respirator abandoned, he leans down and nips at your shoulder, grinning against your bared skin as you jerk and cry out ow, fuck.

“Mm, I like a bit of fire.” He mutters, allowing the respirator to hang down around his neck as he licks over the little bite mark he’s left. “But you’re wrong about me looking. I can’t say I didn’t like those little skirts.”

“Oh.” You breathe, starting to smile. “Okay.” A little flustered now, you start to push yourself up into a sitting position, embarrassed about your spread legs. “Um… where’s my underwear?”

Quaritch grunts as though he doesn’t care for the question in the least. “D’you need them?”

“Yes!”

That big, stupid smug grin again. You’d dearly love to smack it off his face, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He doesn’t make any effort to seek out your lost panties, but you can’t be too irritated with him when he keeps nipping so insistently at the base of your neck, leaving hot twinges of pain-pleasure in the wake of his mouth.

“Asshole.” You say, though without any heat. Your eyes slide closed, enjoying his rough tongue against your collarbones. “Hey. You never told me why you came looking for me, anyway. Was it just to laugh at me?”

Finally, Quaritch raises his head. This close, you allow your eyes to trace over his face; his features are so alien, big and bold and more expressive than he intends. His ears twitch, and you fight back a smile at the sight. Sweet.

“Brought you more of that damned plant water.” He grunts. “It’s on your desk.”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately try to sit up, pushing roughly at his chest. “What?”

Quaritch allows you to push him away, though it’s not without an irritated sort of groan. Still though, he doesn’t look annoyed as he steps back to allow you to scramble off the counter he’s had you propped up on. If anything, his swishing tail reveals his sense of satisfaction.

Your knees nearly buckle when you hop down on the floor, but Quaritch’s enormous hand wraps around your elbow and keeps you upright. You don’t pause to try and regain your balance – you’re too busy trying to stagger over to your own messy workspace, your eyes wide and fixated on the sight of a sample beaker perched atop your desk.

“No way. No fucking way-!” You crow, your face splitting into an irrepressible grin. “Holy fuck!”

If possible, this sample is even bigger than the one that Wainfleet and Fike had smashed all over your notes. You take it in with disbelief, your hands reaching for it eagerly.

“A sample this size will let me do all the tests I need for my dissertation and more,” You breathe, awed. “I can- oh, wow. I’m going to finish my whole thesis. I’m going to get my motherfucking PhD.”

Quaritch’s mouth quirks, clearly amused by your foul mouth. He leans back against one of the spare desks just so he can watch you fuss over the sample he’s brought. 

“Do I get something in return?” He asks, and you can feel his big golden eyes dropping down over the length of your legs. His gaze feels even more heated now, as though knowing exactly what’s under your dress has lit some sort of fire in him.

You snort, stepping over to the sample fridge with the beaker clasped very carefully in your hands. 

“You certainly do not.” You say archly, hoping to maintain an aura of aloofness as you tug the fridge door open and place your precious sample carefully inside. “As far as I’m concerned, this sample can be considered reparations. If you bring me a sample of panopyra sensory tissue, however… then we can talk about rewards.”

You half wonder if maybe that was too bold, but Quaritch’s next chuckle holds an edge of heated delight. It seems like he wasn’t lying about liking a little fire. You’re so distracted by the careful tucking away of your sample that you jolt when you feel huge blue hands coming to land at your waist, tightening over your hipbones.

When he leans in to murmur in your ear, you shudder helplessly at the rumble of his chest. 

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart,” He mumbles, a hand reaching to stroke boldly over the curve of your ass. “And maybe next time we can get going without you wearing this damn fridge as a hat.”

[phfenomena]

❝sleeping alone ❞ || william h. bonney x f!reader

| A/N- was listening to flatland cavalry and i couldn’t resist a short n sad fic abt billy bc i’m evil

| WARNINGS- a sad man who misses his girlfriend a verrrryyy small mention of death and war.

william h. bonney x reader angst? fluff?

as billy lays alone in the hostel bed he quickly begins to regret agreeing to jesse’s proposal of this job in lincoln county. he’s almost a days ride away from you and he has no idea if you’re okay. he can’t believe he used to sleep like this every night, no one to hold.

his mind wanders to the prayers his mother used to lay over him and joe, before everything turned sour in his life. he can’t remember the last time he prayed, feeling like no one’s listening. he doesn’t need a god when he has you, but he doesn’t have you right now.

he clasps his hands together just like he did all those years ago. “i haven’t done in this in quite some time, sorry if it’s not uniform prayer. i just want my girl to be okay without me, and for her to healthy and safe. oh! and for me not to get shot. amen.” he suddenly feels very stupid and confused as to why he thought his words into the empty air would assist him at all, but anything’s worth a shot. especially when it comes to his girl.

he rolls onto his side, just like he does every night with you. he holds a pillow to front pretending it was you instead a bag of feathers. he never realized how warm you were until he couldn’t feel your warmth at all. his eyes drift close and he falls asleep to memories of you.

eight hours away by horse, you lay alone in your shared bed with billy. only it’s not shared for a while, it’s just your bed. he’s working, he loves working! you thought trying to make yourself feel better about being by your lonesome. the bed feels like it’s miles long with just your body inhabiting it. you stare at the stationary sitting on your desk, illuminated poorly with one candle.

you write slowly and methodically to billy. he won’t be home for months so you figured you’d might as well start the letters. you write paragraphs upon paragraphs of how much you miss him, how much you love him, and how quiet the night is without his laughs filling the air. you trail off and start telling him about the town gossip you’ve heard but eventually get back on track. spraying your perfume over the pages and an invisible kiss by your signature, you fold it up and press the wax to seal it.

billy and jesse walk back in the saloon below the hostel’s doors. “oh! mr. billy you’ve got a letter! from a lady” the young boy wiggles his eyebrows and hands the letter to billy. he tries to fight the smile but jesse pats his back, rather hard but a kind gesture nonetheless. “the girl of yours is already sending letters after a day? you’ve got her wrapped around her finger.” billy shakes his head laughing. “that’s where you’re wrong, it’s the complete opposite.” he confesses and walks up the stairs to read your letter in private.

he instantly notices the scent of your perfume and all of the tension in his body melts away. he’s smiling like an idiot the entire time he’s reading but holds your letter to his chest after. he walks over to his own desk and begins his own letter to you, he might not see you for months but he’ll be damned if he can’t talk to his girl.

he consistently writes to you and letting you know what’s going on and how stressful things have gotten. you’re proud of him for switching to tunstall’s side because it was the right thing to do, you’ll always admire that about him. the worry for his well-being overtakes the admiration as you quickly gather your necessities and get dressed. you’re out the door and mounting your horse within the hour, riding to lincoln. you’d rather walk to hell and back than not see billy before he gets hurt.

you reach lincoln county much faster than you expected, maybe your horse sensed the desperation leaking from your pores. you ask a kind-eyed woman about tunstall and she directs you a few minutes north. you thank her make your way slowly to your destination. as your eyes focus on the beautiful country home in the dark, your heart flutters. you almost feel sick with how anxious you are, your eyes haven’t laid on billy in three months.

you quickly tie your horse to a fence post and rush towards the door, knocking rapidly. an unfamiliar man opens the door and smiles at you. “how can i help you, madam?” he speaks confidently with a british accent, this must be tunstall. “oh well, um, i was just wondering if billy was here?” he snaps his fingers and turns his head to yell for billy.

billy’s stomach dropped upon hearing his name being called, he’s thinking it might be jesse trying to pick a fight but when his eyes settle upon you his world stops. everything slows down but his heart speeds up to impossible levels. he smiles wide and laughs while running to you. his arms envelope you and you’re drowning in his scent, squeezing so hard he thought you might’ve bruised a rib. “what’re you doin’ here, doll? did you ride here alone? do you know how dangerous that is? have you ate? are you okay?” you giggle at his ambush of worried questions and put your hand over his mouth. tunstall walks away with a grin, never seeing billy so happy.

“yes i rode alone, yes i know the dangers, no i haven’t ate yet, and yes i am okay. i just couldn’t take the thought of you being so stressed with the possibility of getting hurt without me here. i also figured it was due time for a visit.” you mutter softly, never taking your eyes off him. drinking in the sights of the man you love with every fiber of your being.

he quickly ushers you inside and guides you to a main room. “gentleman, this is my girl.” he introduces you and you smile and manage a slight wave. “this the girl you’re always talking about and never shutting up about how pretty she is?” billy goes slightly red and opens his mouth up to talk before closing it. just nodding at the embarrassment. you smile up at him “you tell people how pretty you think i am? you’re so sweet! that’s adorable.” billy sighs and leads you to a seat at the table and fixing you a plate for dinner.

as you both lay together that night in the same bed, everything makes sense in the world. you understand war, they just want this feeling to be safe. your eyes begin to fill with tears as you’re just so relieved and happy to be with your love again.

“i was gettin’ real tired of sleeping alone. considered climbing into bed with charlie but i don’t think he’s as warm as you.” you laugh and gently slap his chest.

all is right in the world, because your world is filled with love.

[gilverrwrites]

Skinny Dipping

Pairing: Dean WInchester/F!Reader

Authors note: This has the been the hardest, and biggest of my re-mastered fics so far. I’m pretty sure the original was an amalgamation of imagines from supernaturalimagine and dirtysupernaturalimagines but I couldn’t even guess at which imagines exactly. This is like, my 4th public/semi-public fic in like 3 months, I’m starting to feel like this is a kink I didn’t know I had.  Also, Metallica have not cancelled anything, don’t worry. (and I don’t know jack about cars, people that do, please don’t come for me, I really did try, k, thanks, bye.) 💖

Plot: Reader is a mechanic who Dean's been checking in on, and checking out for a while now. Dean has the perfect excuse to see her after baby breaks down nearby.

Rating: M/18+

Words: 2936

Content: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, reckless drunken/tipsy behaviour, being submerged underwater, skinny dipping, teasing, brief retraining, size-difference, dry-humping, (or I guess wet-humping), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, water sex, mild angst.

Please remember: If you never try, you’ll never know.

You switch off the radio, listening to the purr of your car's ignition as you pull up behind a familiar black impala. It was a beauty, but it was nothing compared to your ‘70 boss. You watched as its owner climbed out of the front seat and headed towards you.

Its owner being your old friend Dean Winchester. He and his brother had saved you from a coven of witches a few years back, and ever since he’s been popping back into your life every few months. ‘Working on a case nearby’, ‘just passing through’, ‘baby needs a new compressor’. Every visit he laid the flirting on thicker. You weren’t sure if he was just joking around with you, or if he was serious, or if he saw you as a challenge. Either way you’d been making him work for it. Today it just so happened that his car had broken down a few miles out from your shop, the perfect excuse to see you on a Friday night.

You were pulled from your train of thought by a light tapping on your window. You snapped your head to the side to see Dean hovering over your door. His familiar smile set your heart racing. Okay, so maybe his seduction tactics were working, he was hot, who could blame you?

“Is there a problem, officer?” You joked, rolling down your window.

Dean rested an arm on the hood and leaned in. “No, no, just a routine check.” You knew he impersonated officers and agents all the time, but you hadn’t seen it firsthand. It was impressive how easily he slid into character.

“I am, however, gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle for a full strip search.”

Act ruined.

“At least buy me drink first.” You quipped.

“If you can help me, I’ll buy you a whole dinner.” He winked and opened the car door from the outside. You raised your brows at him but climbed out anyway before making a b-line for the impala’s engine.

“What’s wrong?” You directed your question to the car in the same tone you would address a small child or animal, gently rubbing a hand across its roof as you walked beside it. "Has someone been neglecting you?”

“Hey!” Dean barked, clearly offended. “I take better care of this baby than I do myself.”

At that you looked back over at him. He’d forgone his usual flannel today, leaving him in a pair of jeans that hugged him in all the right places and a grey t-shirt that clung tight and accentuated his broad chest. By the time your eyes reached his face, Dean was sporting a wicked grin, clearly ecstatic to have caught you checking him out. You avoid his smug gaze by popping the hood of his car to take a look at the engine.

“You weren’t kidding.” You whistled; Dean really was taking care of the thing.  The motor was almost gleaming. You felt his warm hand suddenly press against your lower back and turn to look up at him. The expression on his face could only be described as that of a proud father.

“Yeah.” He agreed before pointing to the main battery with his free hand: “This is the problem. It’s busted.”

“Ah, you’re gonna need a new one. I’m surprised you don’t keep a spare.” 

“Yeah.” To his credit, he looked pretty sheepish. “I normally do, but guess I forgot when the last one went out.”

“I don’t have one.” You said, pursing your lips to express your sympathies.

Dean didn’t respond, biting his lip while he waited for you to continue.

“But I could give you a jump start if you gotta head out soon.” You bring the hood back down and start heading to the boot of your car.

“No good,” Dean calls after you. “I’m not in a rush, but I don’t have enough gas to get me where I’m going.”

“Well… I’ve got a guy. He’s a few towns over. He’s closed at this time.” You inform as you open your boot and pull out your tow rope, flashing it to Dean with a smile. I can tow you into town for tonight, then drive you there and back in the morning.”

“I knew I could count on you!”

An hour later, you’d slowly but surely managed to drag Dean and his baby back into town, argued with him about him staying at a motel or on your couch (you’d won), and successfully swindled him into buying you that dinner he’d promised. Dinner being take-put pizza and over-priced ice-cream. Now, the two of you were sitting in your backyard, sharing the aforementioned ice-cream and an old bottle of Jack Daniels you’d pulled from the back of your cupboards. 

“So,” Dean began, his speech slurred by the spoon hanging from his mouth. How’s the garage doin’?”

You take a sip of the JD and proceed to suck on your teeth as you consider how to respond.

“Honestly, bad. Ever since that shitty corporate place set up shop down the road, we’ve been going downhill.” You punctuate your statement with another sip from the bottle before offering it to Dean. “I’m keeping it up and running by tooth and claw, but truthfully, it’s probably only got a few months left in it.” 

He gives you a sombre smile as he exchanges the tub of ice cream for the bottle. It's a touchy subject, but you can’t help admiring the way his neck moves as he tilts his head back to drink. You avert your eyes by scooping up the last bit of cold, sugary goodness and placing the empty container on the grass beside you.

“That sucks.” He places a hand on your shoulder, attempting to offer comfort. “That really sucks. Do you have a back-up plan?”

You grab the bottle back from Dean and take another sip before answering.

“I dunno. Sometimes I think about doing what you do. Kinda.” You begin. You don’t miss the way his entire body stiffens before you clarify. “Without the monsters. Just hit the road, get drunk at every bar in the country, visit Disney, become Metallica groupie, an-”

“You know they cancelled that tour, right?” Dean butts in.

“WHAT?” You shake his hand off and stare up at him in disbelief.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. The smile on his face is anything but sympathetic.

“Bastards.” You cross your arms and pout dramatically. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the laugh that escapes Dean's lips is magical, and you can’t help but join in. When he returns his hand to your shoulder, this time reaching for the furthest from him, thus wrapping himself around you, your skin tingles, and you let yourself fall into him.

As the two of you slowly seize your giggling, Dean checks his watch. He quirks an evocative brow at you when he speaks, “It’s getting late. Maybe we should head inside?”

You mull it over, dramatically swaying your head from side to side before you voice your decision. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

You stand up, offering your hand to Dean, who eyes you sceptically. Nevertheless, he takes the bait, placing his hand in yours and allowing you to lead him toward the footpath just outside your garden.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks, and you can sense the caution in his voice. You assume it’s the hunter in him being paranoid, and you know for a fact that his free hand is hovering over the knife he keeps tucked into the back of his jeans at all times.

“I’m taking you here,” you answer as you pull him through the last set of trees and onto the shore of the local lake. You scan the surrounding area as you kick off your shoes. Satisfied that nobody is nearby, you start pulling off your trousers.

As you bend down to pull your socks off, you look up at Dean. He’s staring back at you intensely, mouth open, cheeks pink.

When you start pulling your top over your head you feel his fingers lightly brush against your hips. He’d stepped closer, and you’re tempted to touch him back or to reach up and kiss him. But you don’t. Instead, you throw your top over his head and sprint for the water.

“RACE YOU!” You challenge, discarding your bra and panties before you reach the water and forward dive in. Dean follows you moments later with a cannonball that splashes your face just as you’re resurfacing from your own dive.

“Fuck! That’s colder than I expected.” You yell to him.

“I’ll warm you up.” Dean replies as he swims close to you. You let his hands return to your hips, not expecting it when he dunks you back under the water.

You cough and splurge as he brings you back up. You flail your arms around until you find the top of his head, and you cling to him for dear life, but Deans is stronger, taller, and he’s found solid ground to plant his feet onto below the water. He escapes your grip and throws you under again.

“STOP. MERCY!” You yell when you come back up. This time, you use your legs for safety, wrapping them around his hips. You'd be safe if you could just get a grip on his arms. You’d been too distracted to notice his erection until you feel it poking at you. You’re about to make a comment about it, but Dean speaks first.

“You’re cute when you’re scared.” He laughs, you silence him with a swift but playful punch to the chest. In defence he grabs at your wrists, able to trap both in just one of his hands. His other hand slides up your arms, over your shoulder, your neck, until he reaches your cheek. He leisurely rubs his thumb against your wet skin.

You stay like that for a while, watching each other, before you finally ask, “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Without any further hesitation Dean lunges forward, forcing his lips against yours. His kiss is hard and animalistic; he skips straight past the pecking and teasing to roaming your mouth with his tongue. His fingers leave your cheek and weave into your hair, holding you against him, his stubble scratches against your skin.

In a play for dominance, you dart your own tongue out, grazing his chapped lips, but he denies you. Instead, he pulls away from your lips, refocusing his attention on nipping and kissing at your jaw, neck, and collarbone.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this.” He utters onto your skin.

“What, this exact scenario?” You joke.

“Not exactly.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and the gust of air against your skin makes you tremble.

“Then what?” You challenge. Your inability to touch him is frustrating you. In an attempt to stimulate him back, you grip your legs around him tighter, using him as leverage to grind against him. The tip of his cock doesn’t quite reach your clit, but its added pressure helps it spread your lips. “Tell me.”

He drops his hand from your head, and cups it under your asscheek. Firmly guiding you up and down, assisting you in rutting against his cock. Shakey breaths become grunts, and after a few seconds he releases your wrists so that he can grip you with both hands. Free to move, you shimmy down his body until you can feel his dick brush against your clit with each grind.

“Come on, tell me.” You plead, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, your grip tightening every time he hits your sweet spot. You know he's not shy, that he’s just getting lost in the feeling, and it pains you to say it, but eventually, you taunt. “I’m not gonna fuck you if you don’t tell me.”

He whimpers at your empty threat but finally confesses. “Just you. Your body, under me. Every night, I think about how you’d look, how you’d feel squirming, moaning my name.”

“Fuck. That’s hot.” You reply and he smiles as you plant your lips against his once again.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks, speech slurred as he tries to speak between kisses.

“Yes.” You respond instantly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Please fuck me, Dean.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His grip on your ass is like a vice as he lifts you up slightly. You both work in sync to position yourselves just right until he lowers you onto his cock, slowly pressing into you. There’s some resistance as he stretches your walls, but the sound of his whispered praises helps you relax until he finally bottoms out, stretching you in all the right places.

“Fuck, that feels so good. You took me so well.” He affirms, and even though he’s already balls deep, you can’t help the heat that spreads across your face.

He begins lifting you again before you can respond, sliding you up and down his cock in slow, steady movements. You grip tight to his shoulders and hips with your hands and knees, using them as leverage points to help move your body up and down. Each thrush is slow and shallow, but Dean seems to be loving it; his head rolls back, and he releases breathy moans with every rock.

“Shit.” You shout, holding tighter still when Dean unexpectedly shifts below you, repositioning his legs to a sturdier position. You watch through hazy eyes as he reaches up and grips your hand, before guiding it down the tight space between your bodies. You get the message quickly, and begin rubbing your clit in lazy circles, keeping in time with the pace of Dean's cock.

The added stimulation had your toes curling in no time. When your pussy starts clenching around Dean’s cock, you see the sudden concentration in his face. His brow furrows, and he bites his lip as he focuses on riding you through your orgasm. The sight was the final push you need to take you over the edge.

“Fuck, Dean. Fuck fuck fuck, that feels good.” You cry out as you hit your climax.

“Keep saying my name, baby.” Dean begs as he continues rolling your hips together. You feel his body shake as he starts to struggle with your combined weights as he chases his own release.

You try to assist, desperately pumping yourself up and down despite the newfound sensitivity as you chant his name.

“Fuck, yes baby.” You feel the twitch of his cock inside you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he hits his orgasm, rutting his cock as deep as he can as he cums inside you. “oohhh yeah.”

You stay in position for a long time following, holding on tight to each other, listening to each other's breathing as you come back down, until Dean guides your body backwards so that you’re face to face again. “How you feelin’?”

“Good.” You reply with a smile.

“Good.” He grins at you mischievously before plunging backwards into the water, taking you with him.

“So, was that everything you imagined it to be?”

He purses his lips in thought before teasingly responding. “Eh, it wasn’t bad.”

You both laugh as you lay your head down on Dean's bare chest; his arms envelop your body as you both blankly look up at the stars. You play with the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him when you emerged from the water and re-dressed.

“You should do it.” Dean says when you're both fully settled down.

“Do what?” You query, popping your head up to look at him, unsure what he’s talking about.

“Hit the road.” He clarifies, revisiting your earlier conversation. “I mean, life on the road isn’t easy or sustainable, trust me, I know.”

“But…” You prompt, knowing fully that he wasn��t going to stop there.

“But it could be fun for a while. If it’s what you wanna do. Hell, I’d totally be a roadie if… you know.”

“I know,” You reply. You’re smiling at him, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The reminder of your failing business stung, but you didn’t want it to spoil your night. You lean forward, caressing his cheek; his stubble feels rough against your fingers. You gently pull his face forward and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I might. I probably will. If it comes to it.”

“I can’t come with you.” He says when you lean away. You hadn’t expected him to want to come with you. Hoped, maybe? But you knew it wasn’t a possibility.

“I know.” You repeat.

He carefully reaches up to run his hand across your damp hair as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is longer, softer than any you’d shared all night. When you’re done, he lets his head fall back against the ground, and you perch yourself against his chest once more. 

“You’ll still call me though, right?”

“Always.” He replies instantly. “You’re my best girl. Well, second-best girl.”

“The car?” You ask deadpan. Of course, the car is his number one.

“Who else?” He replies shamelessly.

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, entwined in each other’s arms, spent and damp under the stars, until eventually, you feel your lids growing heavy. You fight it for a while, willing yourself to remain awake, until eventually your tiredness wins out. You cuddle closer into the warmth of Dean's chest as you fall asleep.

[judithhhh]

tied (one-shot)

jude x reader

summary : in which you can't get away from your ex, jude, not even at your new job miles away from him

( 2.2k words! )

working for real madrid was something you had wished to do since you had been a little girl. you never thought it would happen but eventually it did. you had the chance to work as a physiotherapist for the biggest club in the world at just twenty years old. it was a dream come true but obviously he had to ruin it. your ex just had to transfer to the club the same season you started working in it. you knew jude didn't do it on purpose, he wasn't even aware of your new job. but when you saw the tons of posts on your instagram feed, displaying the boy in the white colored jersey, you felt your insides boiling. no matter where you went, how many kilometers you traveled away from him, jude would always be a part of your life.

arriving on the training grounds, you greeted the other members of the staff and lucia, a coworker you had met a few days ago, helped you settle in. you spent the day sorting papers on your desk and getting familiar with the new surroundings. when the time came to wrap up your things for the day, you felt content, not only were you already comfortable with your colleagues and new responsibilities but you also managed to avoid jude for an entire day. you had caught sight of him a few times but you were far away enough for him to not notice. your mind still reminded you that it was bound to happen soon, that you would have to face the man at any moment.

it wasn't like your relationship with jude ended on bad terms, it was just tiring. your actual relationship with him lasted for one year but for two entire years after that you two could not leave one another alone. you saw each other multiple times a week but every time you started to believe that it was more than just ‘’seeing each other’’ and that you could finally get back together, jude proved you wrong. it wasn't like you were any better than him, you also found comfort in the back and forth, but jude enjoyed all of it. he found pleasure in getting your hopes up just to crush them with a simple action, all of that knowing that you would find your way back into his bed anyways. it was a few months before the end of the 22-23 season that you decided it was enough and moved back to england. you cut contact with everyone, choosing to block jude first, and focus solely on your career. you haven't heard from the footballer since your last conversation, one that stayed in your mind since then. you could still replay what was said perfectly.

‘’aren't you tired of this jude?’’ you had told him one night, laying on your bed while he got dressed

‘’of what?’’

‘’stop acting clueless you know exactly what im talking about’’

‘’then no i’m not tired’’

‘’you don't ever wish we could just be a normal couple’’

‘’we already tried that and it didn’t work, clearly you're not made for me’’

he had left your house without saying anything else, leaving you crying in the bed. it wasn’t rare for jude to stay stuff like this but it still hurt. you shaked the memory of your mind and left work. you decided to walk home instead of taking the bus, giving you the opportunity to enjoy the cold but still enjoyable temperature of the early october weeks. getting back into your apartment, you hurriedly took a shower before crashing into your bed.

when you woke up the day after, you were full of excitement and apprehension. today, you would start working with the players and that both meant helping footballers you spent years adoring and facing the one man you were running away from. as you got in the shower, you begged the world to not make you encounter jude today. your wish was granted for the majority of the day, you met a few players like modric and nacho and helped them with minor pain from training. obviously, your luck couldn't last all day and as you went to pick up your lunch, you heard a familiar voice behind your back. you froze, scared that he had talked to you but calmed yourself down when you realized he was actually having a conversation with his teammates. you tried to be as discreet as possible while still actively listening to what they were saying. you felt your stomach tightened every time you heard jude talking, you may have heard his voice in interviews but it was way different hearing him when he stood just a few feet behind you.

‘’bro my ankle fucking hurts because of you’’ you heard jude say

‘’i didn’t even push you that hard man’’ one of his teammates responded

‘’getting injured before a big game is not good jude, you should go see the physiotherapists’’

‘’there's a new one too, luka told me she was really good’’

guessing that luka was probably modric, you felt proud that such a legend said you were good at this job but the feeling of proudness was quickly washed away by the realization that jude was going to come see you after lunch. you turned to the left and still with the most discretion you could have, you ran back to the physio’s local. all lunch, your mind raced as you tried to think of an idea to avoid him. you knew he was bound to notice you but you didn't think it was going to happen so soon. you sighed when you saw lucia, your coworker and now friend, come into the local.

‘’lucia, i have a favor to ask you’’

‘’of course, whats up’’

‘’i heard that bellingham is probably going to come get treated here after lunch, and i'm quite stressed, i already saw quite a lot of players today, i don't know if i can do well with him too. could you take him instead of me?’’

lucia, being the good person that she is, refused to take jude and told you that she was certain you could treat him and that you had performed excellently with the first players so there was no reason you could not do the same thing with him. obviously there was a reason but you couldn't tell that to lucia, leaving you with no choice but to face your ex. for the next thirty minutes, you kept anxiously glancing at the door, wondering when he would come in. the fact that all the other physiotherapists had left to do other things did not make you feel any less stressed at all. you jumped when the glass door opened and lifted up your head to see jude enter the room. you saw his whole demeanor shift when he recognized you. choosing to avoid confrontation, you switched to your professional side before he could ask you anything. you hurried the conversation, interrupting him everytime he wanted to address the clear elephant in the room. you prescribed him a few pain meds, told him to lay off training tomorrow and to put on some ice before turning away from him hoping that he would dismiss himself. you faced your desk too scared to see if he was still behind but a presence coming closer to your body indicated to you that he wasn’t planning on leaving without talking to you.

‘’you’re gonna keep pretending that you don’t know me or are you gonna be mature’’

‘’don’t talk to me about being mature’’ you scoffed

‘’what’s that supposed to mean?’’

you were about to give him a piece of your mind but decided against it, not wanting to fight at your workplace.

‘’nothing jude just go’’

he didn't leave instead letting his eyes scan your face and scan your features that he had missed so much. he hadn't seen you anywhere, not even on social media, in the past months and you looked so much different. you looked healthier and he noted the clear difference in your eyes, they lacked the hint of desperation and sadness they always had when you two were on and off. he debated for a second if he should just go and leave you alone for good but he knew that he could never resist being close to you especially if you were going to be working around him from now on.

‘’why did you leave without saying anything’’ he asked softly

‘’what was the point of staying, you said it yourself i'm not made for you’’

‘’you know i didn't mean that’’ he sighed

‘’you seemed pretty sure of yourself though’’

lucia entered the room at this moment, forcing jude to swallow back his excuses. he muttered a quiet goodbye that you responded to for the sake of professionalism and left the room. you felt the pressure leaving your shoulders and absentmindedly answered your coworker’s questions, assuring her that everything went well.

it wasn't until one week after your first encounter that you came face to face with jude again. you had successfully avoided him and you suspected he stopped trying to find you after a few days, he was never the one to put in efforts after all. you bumped into him at the cafeteria, he was accompanied by brahim and arda making you think that he would just ignore you but instead he excused himself to his teammates before dragging you out of the cafeteria. you protested but the firm grip he had on your shoulder forced you to keep walking. he led you to a secluded bathroom and closed the door before leaning against the sink, looking at you without uttering a word. his intense gaze would have had you on your knees a few months ago but you had gained a lot of self-respect since then.

‘’you brought me there and you’re not gonna say shit?’’

"let me get a good look at you baby, it's been so long"

"don't call me that"

even though you stood up to the man, you were still feeling giddy inside. you felt yourself sinking deeper into the comfort jude brought you and you knew that a few sweet words from him and you would be back into his arms. jude took one of your hand and pulled you closer to him, your body practically standing between his part legs. you huffed and shot daggers at him.

"you're not even trying to talk to me, you just wanna get in my pants jude"

"that's not true. i missed you close to me that's all."

you didn't say anything back waiting for him to continue and give you at least some sort of apology.

" i'm sorry for what i said before you left, i didn't mean it. you're the one for me i've always known that. we're both just so difficult sometimes"

"both? nah just you" you responded arching an eyebrow

"no both of us baby"

you kept your gaze on the ground, thinking about it all. were you still the kind of girl who ran back to her ex after an half-assed apology? maybe you were, or maybe you were going to make him work for it a bit more. you didn't have any time to make your choice as jude continued his apology.

"we're both difficult yeah but i know i'm the reason we never got back together. you left because of that and when i saw you here in madrid, i swear i was going to leave you alone. but i just can't baby. i tried but i'm like a moth to a fucking flame"

as he talked, he moved your bodies closer and closer to eachother. he didn't even seem to notice his moments, like this was something way too natural to him. your chests were pressed together and he took one of your hands in his bringing it to his mouth, kissing it.

"how am i supposed to believe you're not only saying empty words"

"why would i say all of this? just to fool you?"

you didn't need to think about it anymore. you may had tried to get away from jude but you could never resist him for long. you and him were tied to each other.

you brought your hands to his chest, gripping his shirt to bring his face closer to yours. you looked into his eyes searching for anything that might tell you that he wasn't honest but you were only met with an amount of love you never knew he could even have for you. jude closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you dumb. you had missed his lips and you never wanted to part from them again but the door of the bathroom opening forced you apart. you glanced to the left to see a member of the staff, that you didn't recognize thankfully, and stepped away from jude. the guy who entered the room excused himself and left the two of you alone.

"bad timing i guess" jude said, letting out a chuckle

you kissed him again, this time not for long before parting away from him. you barely moved away from jude, keeping your foreheads almost touching. he had his eyes closed, letting you admire his long lashes and pretty lips.

"promise it won't be like it was in dortmund " you whispered, not wanting to break the quiet atmosphere you basked in.

"mmh"

"tell me jude"

he opened his eyes, a smile appearing on his face as he took in your features. his hands stroked your cheek and you smiled, not used to such sweetness from him.

"i promise you my love, it'll be different"

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

me 🤝 spending all day writing fanfics when i stay home from school

[pedrithink]

hate to love me ✩ jude bellingham

request: gf that gets hated on for being jude’s gf and he defends her

face claim: ester exposito

judebellingham

Liked by jobebellingham, vinijr, and 3.930.772 others

judebellingham recharging with them! 🫶🏽

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user1 jude posting picture of yn what a miracle lol she must have forced him

user2 does jude really need to take yn everywhere? what an insufferable girl

user3 jude wake up and dump this woman

user4 @user3 why do you hate the girl so much? poor thing! she never did anything wrong.

user5 you guys giving reason to hate yn is crazy, the girl never did anything wrong and only gets hate because she dates jude.

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham, and 322.762 others

ynusername summer summering

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judebellingham u are so fine 😫

ynusername @judebellingham i love you

user6 of course you need to post a picture of him to get likes 🥱

user7 @user6 HES HER BOYFRIEND!!!!!!! stop being so fucking annoying

user8 @user6 spill

user9 the fame seeker

user10 @user9 hahahaha imagine being upset that jude, who will never acknowledge your existence, has his own love life that will never involved u

user11 its gonna be soooo fun when jude and yn eventually break up

ynusername

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ynusername parisssss

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judebellingham my one and only <3

ynusername @judebellingham 🤍🤍🤍🫶🏻

user12 jude looks so annoyed

user13 the difference between the body language tho

user14 they look distant and cold with each other

user15 @user14 jealousy isn’t cute babe

user16 @user14 you got all that from a pic? 😅

user17 people should leave her alone, she looks so sweet and kind 😭

NOW PLAYING: Jude’s Bellingham Interview in Marbella

judebellingham

Liked by ynusername, declanrice, and 3.028.827 others

judebellingham i can't put into words how much you mean to me. i am my best version when you are by my side, thank you for traveling, i don't know how many thousand miles, for me and for loving me for who i am. i love you. 🫶🏽

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ynusername cannot live without you!!!!!!!!! iiiii loveeeee youuuuu, my home 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

judebellingham @ynusername 🥹

jobebellingham w couple, love you guys!

masonmount yn is the sweetest one, proud of y’all 🤍

user18 i love you guys so so much

user19 now i need an actual photo of them together

user20 she is so beautiful

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part xvi

✧.* you disappeared from the face of the earth for a couple of months for reasons and while your life is looking amazing to the outside, you've been going through it.

✧.* happy new year babies ❤️ theres a lil' times skip here — tag list is closed, follow @landonfourlibrary to be notified for updates :)

✧.* prev part - next part

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y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55, milouberger and 287,563 others

y/nusername lately dump 👶🏻

tagged: landonorris, maxfewtrell, cecilemoulin

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norrizz I KNEW IT!!!!

cecilemoulin never been more excited about anything before 😍

bott_ass I am in fact speechless (in a good way)

charles_leclerc congratulations you guys!

sharl16 another baby for Charles to obsess over 😂

norry4 and y'all were convinced they broke up..I knew they were up to something 😂

mclaren baby mclaren 👶🏻🧡

carlossainz55 congrats! ❤️

chilisainz alexa play that should be me by Justin Bieber

hamilt44n a siblings just for me? 🥺

lanlan y'all sleeping on the last picture, this baby is already acting like a menace 😭

y/nluv ma'am this is more than just breaking your arm and having some complications 💀

landonorris ❤️❤️❤️

carlandooo dilf lando

y/nlandooo so happy for y'all but are we all going to ignore milou in y/n her likes 😭

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y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, milouberger and 206,453 others

y/nusername 🧡

tagged: landonorris, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri

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piastripastry thank you for adopting oscar, it means a lot 🥺

norry4 never screamed so hard when I saw you pop up on my TV 😭

y/nlandooo living that wag life like you should

landonorris wrong hat..

oscarpiastri not really

y/nusername no

norrizz mom and dad fighting about the kids already 💀

leclerc_16 Charles smelling babies from miles away and trying to convert them to ferrari kids like usual..

yukisan milou hiding in the likes again

oscarpiastri 👍

y/nusername seat robber

landoscar lmfao stop 🤣

mrlandonorrizz aw lando and his parents 🥺

cecilemoulin friend sees cat, friend needs to stop, friend needs to take a picture

bott_ass did she take this one home too?

y/nusername wasn't allowed to take it home, had a good cry about it 😔

bott_ass why'd they mistreat a pregnant woman like that? :(

carlandooo so happy to see you back on the grid 🥰

maxfewtrell what's your man trying to do in that last picture?

y/nusername trying to feel important

cecilemoulin happy to see the step stool is used in public too

landonorris thanks guys

julieeeexo is it national bully lando day? 😂

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, cecilemoulin and 273,876 others

y/nusername 👶🏻💙

tagged: landonorris

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maxfewtrell can't believe we're getting a second version of lando in a couple of weeks..

sharl16 the bullying just multiplied

carlandooo tripled, y/n bullies max as much as lando does 😂

hamilt44n how far along are you actually?

norrizz my babies are growing up so fast 😭

bott_ass boy mom y/n? Makes sense!

norry4 a mini lando? 😭

landonorris I'm always right

y/nusername boy i never said you were wrong..

yukisan kids no fighting pls :(

landonorris 💙💙💙

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, milouberger and 226,989 others

y/nusername vegas with the lads

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri

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chilisainz oscar night out with his parents 🥰

norry4 someone tell milou to fuck off, she's dead to all of us..

yukisan fuck off @.milouberger

carlito55 be gone @.milouberger

norstappenn you're gonna get married here right? RIGHT?! 👀

fewtrelllando a couple of besties on their night out 😭

bott_ass super happy you're becoming a mom but I'm sad we don't get to see you drive in Vegas :(

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