#she's peachy and wonderful

[asheanon]

🍵 Sometimes, I sip on some peach-y tea and think of her. (An OC I never talk about here as she's not - or used to not be - related to the blog, but... since I've been broadening my horizons a bit lately, why not? I need to draw her again so badly - as with many things - uggghhhhh... Also: ⚠️ Old, old art alert, for the picture on the left...)

Esrae loves peaches. It's a part of her identity, at this point. 🍑

I love when certain consumables remind you of your little dudes. It's like "yeahhh, channeling your energy today, my guy. Cheers, buddy." Almost makes the thing a smidge more enjoyable. 💕 (Provided you like it and it's a character you like, that is!)

[blye-flower]

.

[peachsunset]

Went bowling with my family for my dad's birthday and was reminded of the time I went on a high school bowling field trip and my math teacher bowled a perfect game??? The bowling alley gave her a pin as a commemorative trophy

[ddejavvu]

Touch starved spencer? Maybe the reader sits on his lap and he just clings to her as she runs her fingers over his body and face and it really soothes him?

Spencer's stiffness after you'd ran a finger down the bridge of his nose had alerted you to his unusual touch starvation. It was fairly at the beginning of your relationship, so at the time, you were worried you'd overstepped. But the next time you'd curled up for movie night he'd laid his head over your chest, glancing hesitantly at your face. With burning cheeks and a voice too squeaky to admit, he'd confessed that he wanted you to do it again, and thus began your lifelong mission to give your sweet boy the sweet touches he deserves.

Your fingers are skimming his cheek now, and his pretty brown eyes are obscured by his peachy pink eyelids, shut and guarded by thick, dark lashes. They tangle together and flutter as your touch roves over his skin, the pads of your fingers brushing so softly over his lips that he isn't sure you're even touching them.

You spread your fingers outwards to drift over his jaw, tracing the curve like you're sculpting with clay. You wonder what god sculpted him. You're sure Hercules had a hand in shaping Morgan, but you have a hunch that Aphrodite molded your boy, all pinky blush and soft, gentle features.

He lets out a hum at the feeling of your hands on his face, tilting his jaw up so that you can trace a finger down his throat. It sends a shiver up his spine that makes you laugh, a sweet sound that bleeds through his veins and turns his blood pink like a valentine's day love heart. He's sure if he opens his eyes they'll be shaped like one, so he keeps them shut, imagining the look on your face as you concentrate on his own.

Your tongue is probably poking out in concentration as you swipe your finger over his forehead, and his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in closer where you sit on his lap. You know exactly what he's after, and with your pinky finger, you run a gentle touch down the bridge of his nose.

A smile takes hold of his features that compels you to kiss his nose, and at the feeling of your lips on his face his eyes flutter open. They're flecked with dark streaks that interrupt his gooey brown, and they survey you fondly.

"I love you, pretty boy," You hum, voice barely there in the serene atmosphere of your bedroom.

Your hands are braced against his throat as he speaks, and you feel the gentle thrum of his voice through his skin. You find his words ironic, because' he's yours, "Love you too, angel."

[beautiful-despair]

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓸 𝓸𝓯 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝔂

*The TV turns on to show a commercial. You see the silhouette of what you assume to be a beautiful woman, laying on her bed. She speaks to you in a calm and seductive tone.*

???: "Hello there, sweet little cubs of the wild~. Are you tired of your boring day to day life~? Do you feel burnout from a long stressful day of working retail~? Life kicking you in the ass and crotch at the same time~? Well then, allow me to give you the chance to find the perfect paradise for all your woes~." *The lovely maiden snaps her fingers as a lovely sign appears on screen.*

???: "Welcome to Club Despair, where our delightful remnants will do all that we can to help ease your woes~. We take your despair and, to put it in a simple way, convert it all into bliss and pleasure~. And no, it's not through sex, Making that clear now. We're not hookers. ಠ_ಠ" *The screen changes again to show the interior.*

???: "Stop on by and our lovely remnant hostesses will bring you a sense of calm, happiness, relaxation that we know you've long for~. Fufufufu~. Each girl has been training specifically for the sole purpose of making sure that your despair is a thing of the past. Feeling thirsty? Try our large selection of wine drinks that will give you a small buzz in your heart. Try out a wonderful selection of meals prepared by our expert cooking team in the kitchen, where your taste buds will drown in delightful bliss~. Fufufufu. We also have entertainment of the highest caliber and wonderful music of any genre that you may request~. Note that there is a voting system in place, so don't get upset when your pick isn't chosen. Deal with it." *the screen changes show a bunch of beautiful ladies standing across from one another as our mysterious speaker walks down the lane.* "I do hope that our little tour was enough to convince you to drop on by. We are so eager to meet you in person~. Until then, please remember our club's motto~. Tell 'em, girls.~"

Everyone: "Take delight in a Beautiful Despair~!" *They all blow a kiss at the screen while winking at said screen. A big heart appears and pops, showing you the phone number and location of the club. It does look pretty interesting to say the least. Why not check it out?*

@oddblogfullofoddmuses @ultimate-disinterest @the-aikido-master @hopeless-protagonist @ichi-peachy @notsobloody-wrenchs @atuas-artist @class-105 @ultimate-azure-assassin @hopeful-warriors @quiet-therapist @ask-ruruka-ando @dusty-attic-bedroom @pick-and-shovel-laborer @junko-enoshima-ii @photographic-misery @ask-ultimate-mortician @ask-the-ultimate-cosplayer @your-divine-priestess @mikado-sannoji @deadly-despair-gadgets @ask-oumeno @ask-the-otonokoji-twins @edens-garden-au @project-ultimate-children @perfect-bloodcovered-family @the-shy-pony @japanese-ultimateautism @doomed-despairs @gentle-lies @the-princess-of-despair @recovering-remnant @thehypnoticsnakedomain @hopeful-hopelessness @the-plushie-togami-sisters @ask-shsl-scribe @hopes-memorial @the-plainest-of-janes @ask-kuro-twins @smiles-and-scars @morals-and-florals @bloodstains-and-bloodsuckers @mercy-of-the-ashes

[sinnomel]

Absolutely Peachy

Pairing: Gale x f!Tav

Summary: Tav and Gale's conversation after Elminster's visit goes great. Slight angst but it ends cute imo.

A/N: First post breaking my very long writing hiatus to write about Gale because there aren't enough fics. Let me know if you'd like more one shots cause I think the world needs more Gale ( ´ ▿ ` ) - Sin

There was nothing in this world that could’ve prepared Tav for the surprise encounter with Elminster. She was hoping that she could meet the esteemed wizard under happier circumstances, perhaps when this damned tadpole was out from between her eyes, attempting to command the helm that is her brain. 

The wise old man was jolly at first, introducing himself to the rest of the group, reprimanding Gale for his lack of decorum and grace. Tav thought nothing of it, inviting the elder to their camp, despite Gale’s scowl, awaiting for Elminster’s true reason for appearing before them in the shadow lands.

However, after the food and wine, Elminster’s visage seemed less friendly, less warm. His words were cold, concise, and fatal. Gale was to gain Mystra’s forgiveness on one condition - he was to essentially explode, destroying the curse within him and everything in a large surrounding area. It could rid them of the Absolute, of course. It could bring death to a lot of people if he decided to do this in or near Baldur’s Gate. Usually, this would be a decision that the group would push past, finding the cure for the tadpoles being their priority as the clock was ticking on them becoming mindflayers. However, this revelation had Tav’s heart sinking to the ground below her. 

Tav had become particularly close to Gale, finding her feeling solidified after spending time with him in between camping and the battlefield. A complete accident on her part. There was something charming about the man’s rants, how his eyes lit up explaining the Weave, talking about his cat and how he would spend his days rummaging through the literature that covered the walls of his tower in Waterdeep. Tav never intended to fall for Gale, yet here she was. 

It was clear as day what her thoughts on the matter were, as Gale had asked if everything was alright once Elminster and everyone else had retired to their respective tents and bedrolls. Tav was beside herself, “Am I alright? Absolutely peachy Gale.” Gale’s eyes held a hint of sadness as she continued. “I’m definitely alright. I’m wonderful knowing that Mystra herself has offered you forgiveness but only under the guise of the afterlife,” she spat. “Tav. I understand your frustration. Trust me, I too am frustrated with Mystra. But I can no longer satiate the hunger of the Orb that rests inside of me. There is nothing that I can do. This is my fate,” he explained, his hand twitching, as if involuntarily reaching out for her hand but stopping himself because she’s upset. He can only assume that his touch would only lead to more anger and hurt. If only he knew how much Tav yearned for his touch, how much she would fantasize it under the stars, sometimes without her knowing how she got to that topic of thinking.

“Since when have we ever listened to fate?” Tav asked, her gaze off towards the right where the water seemed to stand still and the only sound accompanying them was the soft crackle of the makeshift fire off towards the center of camp. “We have tadpoles that threaten our very existence. Every hour that passes, we teeter on the brink of becoming mind flayers. How long have we traveled together and not a single tentacle has sprouted?” she asked. Tav was breathing heavy, the conversation weighing on her physically. She couldn’t comprehend why he was giving in to this demand - his life was on the line and would he so easily throw it away? However, in that instance, Tav realized that this is coming from a selfish place. In this moment, Tav realized that the reason she was so uncharacteristically upset about Gale throwing his life away for the sake of Mystra’s forgiveness and to satiate the Orb maintaining its nest in his chest is because she has grown to love the wizard of Waterdeep. 

Perhaps her eyes had given Gale indication that she had realized something, as he asked “Tav, what’s-“ “Do not ask me what is wrong Gale. I fear I realized something a bit too late. I do not wish to talk about it right now…it isn’t appropriate.” “Is it about me?” He intercepted. 

Tav stumbled and said nothing. Her gaze was now on the dirt ground, her heart pounding out of her rib cage. She was silent for a beat, but Gale was patient. If she was willing to speak, he was more than willing to listen - it would be ironic if she listened to his rambling and he couldn’t do the same. Tav, despite just saying that she didn’t wish to speak on the matter, could not stop herself.

“I’m acting out of emotion rather than logic, Gale,” Tav started. Her eyes slowly made her way up to his own brown ones, making this conversation harder. She could feel her heart changing rhythm upon meeting his gaze, how her body yearned to be held in his embrace in this moment, how she craved a chaste kiss. 

Gale seemed to put two and two together, or rather, what he thought was two and two. 

“I know this seems very obscene and I may never be granted forgiveness. Trust me, I don’t wish to die. But Mystra wants to rid the world of the Absolute. My demise might very well be the only thing that could stop-“

“I love you.” 

Gale was taken aback and fell silent, completely off guard by the three sweet words he would often dream of hearing from Tav’s lips. Perhaps he had imagined it? He dared ask, hoping his imagination, or the amalgamation of his heart beating so thunderously in his chest wouldn’t disrupt the orb.

“Pardon?” Gale asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he took a step toward her. “I love you Gale. I don’t want you to succumb to that entitled goddess for my own selfish reasons,” Tav started, unable to stop her words from coming out. If not now, she felt, when? Who knew when Gale would just decide to commit to Mystra’s possible false promises. 

“There is always another way. We’ve constantly found alternatives to problems. Please…don’t go through with this. Do you not wish to live?” the appointed leader of the group asked the man before her. She could feel the warm accumulation of tears threatening to pour over the edge of her tear ducts, the shakiness of her breath not helping her. 

Gale was speechless. He didn’t know what to do. He always painted this picture of how he wanted to profess his love to Tav - a beautiful sunset in Waterdeep whilst both of them spent the hours in his tower, two glasses of wine served out for them and Tara, his cat in his company, along with the countless books he seems to have. The piano would play songs from their travels to incite conversation of nostalgia, how they felt in those moments, laughing about their perilous travels. And when the sun hit the golden hour, the sky would be adorned with pink, orange and purple clouds, he would place his forehead on hers, his gaze focused on her soft lips and utter…

“I love you.” 

But they were here, in this camp, the conditions of his profession of love not met. Perhaps this was how it was supposed to be because he wouldn’t make it back to Waterdeep. Perhaps he won't live past a couple nights from now. 

“Gale…Say something,” Tav said, her voice cracking, two tears escaping their captivity, trailing down her cheeks. Gale couldn’t think of any words. Instead he chose to react, slowly closing the space between them. His hands made their way up to her cheeks, softly wiping away the stray tears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was torn. He very badly wanted to rid himself of the Orb and obtain Mystra’s forgiveness, but on the other, he had Tav, who had seemingly loved him unconditionally. None of his magic was necessary to woo her. Not his history of being a prodigy of magic, not his mastery of spells, not his conduction of the weave. Just him. 

Gale couldn’t help but close the space between himself and Tav, placing a soft kiss upon her lips. In this moment, he forgot all about Mystra and her empty promises, the orb, all of it. All that occupied his mind was Tav and how soft her lips felt against his own. He pulled away, staying close.

“I love you too.”

[suzukiblu]

A bit more of "Kara gets to Earth on time and the Kents get a two-for-one special on free kids".

They finish eating, and Pa pays with the strange paper money and gets metal tokens back again. Are they a receipt, Kara wonders? Or are they some kind of money too, or something else altogether? 

For all she knows, this species eats metal and they’re some kind of complimentary snack. Probably not, since the clothing store handed them out too, but again, she doesn’t know. 

They go back out onto the streets of Smoll-Veel and head back towards Ma and Pa’s transport, but they don’t actually get there before–

“Jona-Than! Mar-Tha!” an alien voice calls from down the street, and Ma and Pa turn towards it. Kara tightens her grip on Kal reflexively and tries to keep smiling. An unfamiliar alien comes up to Ma and Pa and starts chattering excitedly, their face unnervingly animated and hands gesturing constantly. Kara’s never seen anyone speak so expressively but her own parents, and they had the decorum to do it privately. 

That doesn’t seem to be how things are done on this planet, though. 

This alien has flat brown hair and peachy speckled skin, and they’re wearing a long ankle-length robe but have bare arms and no undersuit, strangely enough. A lot of people on this planet just don’t seem to wear much clothing, it seems like. Kal burbles curiously at the new alien around his toy’s ear, and they look surprised and look from him to Kara, and then back to Ma and Pa. They ask something, Kara thinks, and she tries not to tense. 

Ma says something–Kara catches words that sound like “foss-turr” and “chyuld”, but nothing she understands, until Pa speaks up too and says something that ends in “Kent”. 

She knows that word, she thinks in relief, and points at herself. 

"Kent!" she repeats, nodding eagerly. No, she still doesn't know the aliens' language, but she's assuming being a farmer isn't a job that's too heavily dependent on language, and Ma and Pa will be likelier to let her stay on long enough to learn a bit more about this world if she helps out, she’s sure. 

Ma and Pa get the oddest looks on their faces, just for a moment, and then both look so incredibly pleased and give her the kindest smiles they’ve given her so far. 

They must really need another farmer around, Kara thinks. 

Well, that’s lucky for her and Kal, isn’t it? 

[ladykailitha]

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 1

Just dipping my toe into the shovel talks trend.

*

“Hey, Steve?”

Steve turned around and Jonathan frowned. Steve’s eyes were puffy and his nose was red. “Oh, hey, man. What’s up?”

Jonathan could tell he was trying not to wipe the obvious tears from his face. As if that wouldn’t draw attention to them.

“I wanted to talk to you about you and Eddie’s relationship--”

Steve crumpled. That was the only way to describe it. The man was barely holding it together as it was, but it seemed that that was straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Look, I get it,” Steve snapped. “Don’t break Eddie’s heart. It sooo soft and I’m suuuuch a bitch. I don’t need the shovel talk from you.” The last word was said with such venom, Jonathan was forced to take a step back.

“Who’s been giving you shovel talks?” he asked.

Steve threw his arms in the air. “It would be easier to list off who hasn’t. The Byers family and El, only I can’t say that because you’re here. So just Will, your mom, and El.”

Jonathan frowned. “Even Robin?” Because that didn’t sound right. He had seen the two of them together and they were like freakishly close.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve snarled bitterly. “That’s the latest one. The one that makes me just want to throw myself into the god damn pool.”

Well, shit.

“Apparently this is Eddie first real relationship and since being gay is so hard right now, breaking his heart would be a disservice to humankind,” Steve mocked. “I asked her about my heart and my first relationship with a guy. But apparently that is as important as Eddie’s experience.”

Now that? Jonathan didn’t believe. But Steve was clearly hurt and was being dramatic about it. Which he was going to allow because holy shit.

But apparently Steve was just getting started. “At least Eddie’s friends all showed up together to give one shovel talk so that was nice. Hop and Wayne each did it while cleaning their hunting rifles, like they weren’t terrifying enough. I mean Mike’s an ass, so his I could brush off, but Dustin and Erica? Why does Eddie get more loyalty from them when I literally saved their lives? But Lucas and Max also double teamed me, so that was all sorts of fun. Nancy casually brought up that she has three guns now. So yeah, just get it over with so I can go back to being the worst boyfriend in Hawkins!”

Jonathan forced him to sit down. “That was a lot to unpack, I’m not going to lie. But take a deep breath for me, can you do that?”

Steve nodded and took a deep breath.

“Now let it out slow,“ Jonathan continued. Steve followed his instruction. “Great now keep doing that until your heart no longer feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.”

Steve started breathing more normally and Jonathan sat next to him. “I’m not actually here for a shovel talk. I was wondering if you or Eddie would be willing to talk to Will about liking boys.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “What?”

“Yeah, he’s going through a really hard time with it right now,” Jonathan explained. “And I’m not really getting through to him because I’m straight and it’s pretty much meaningless coming from me.”

“Oh.”

“But no, I get your reaction, dude,” he said. “I really do. Has anyone given Eddie the shovel talk?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I can ask, is it? ‘Oh hey, Eddie, anyone threaten your life over our relationship lately. No, no, not homophobes, I mean our friends? No? Well that’s just peachy!’“

Jonathan barked out a laugh. “Yeah, no matter how you phrase that it’s going to come off as bitchy. Especially if no one has.”

Steve nodded.

“Look, if you talk to Will for me,” Jonathan said, “I’ll talk to Eddie. Deal?”

Steve looked at the hand for a moment before he shook it. “Deal.”

*

Jonathan knocked on the Munson’s door. Eddie opened it with a look of surprise.

“Look, man,” Eddie said with a sigh. “I don’t sell anymore. And besides your friend from Cali has better stuff.”

Jonathan held up his prized. “Oh, I’m aware, I’m offering to share.”

Eddie looked at him for a moment and then closed the door behind him. “Yeah, okay.”

Jonathan lit two blunts and passed one to Eddie.

Eddie took a drag and sighed. “Shit this stuff is good.”

Jonathan just smiled.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the share, man,” Eddie said after a few minutes, “but why are you here?”

“I went over to Steve’s to ask him if he would be willing to talk to Will for me,” he said after taking a drag.

“Because your brother is gayer then the May pole?” Eddie supplied.

“Yup,” he replied. “Only our Stevie wasn’t doing so good.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “What?!”

Jonathan tugged on his pant leg. “Sit down, dude. Let me explain before you go off half cocked and make things worse.”

Eddie sat down with a grumble. “You better start talking and you better do it fast.”

“In my experience shovel talks are for people you don’t trust not for people you care about,” Jonathan said slowly. “Only it seems our friends didn’t get the memo.”

“People have been giving Steve the shovel talk?” Eddie asked, eyes wide, jutting his chin forward in shock. “But no one’s said shit to me!”

Jonathan winced. “That’s kinda what me and Steve were afraid of.”

Eddie felt his heart sink to his stomach. “Do you--did he say how long it’s been going on?”

Jonathan shook his head. “But the fact that only my house and El haven’t given him the shovel talk I would probably bet since you two announced your relationship.”

“Shit,” Eddie whispered. “I bet the first two were funny, endearing even. Steve likes that kind of stuff. And then as it kept happening...”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed. “Has he been distant lately?”

Eddie closed his eyes and nodded. “Now I know why.” He thought for a moment. “Is there a way to call everyone together without alerting Steve, too?”

Jonathan shrugged. “If his boyfriend were to ‘accidentally’ turn off the walkie for an hour for some hot makeup sex...”

Eddie laughed. “I can absolutely do that.”

“I’ll set it up,” Jonathan said. He flicked the remainder of his blunt to the ground and stood up to grind it out under his boot.

*

Dang it, this was getting longer than I planned, but I’ll put out a part two later.

Edit: and it’s later! And part three! Part four and Part FIVE! Part Six!!!

[kissitbttr]

eddie earns his first blowjob from his mean cheerleader girlfriend

warning: 18+, oral receiving, insecure eddie,

a/n: this was requested but i lost the ask lmao, enjoy. also not really that filthy xx

-

sex has never been his forte,

sure he jerks himself off and has a pile of porn magazines stacked underneath his bed but never actually experienced… sex.

girls aren’t exactly lining up to be getting dicked down by him. not when you’re the town freak. if anything, they avoid him like a plague. the only time girls want to be around eddie is just so that he can give them free greens and nothing else. he’s not stupid, he can tell what their true intentions are.

so when y/n came into his life. he has no idea what to expect. obviously, she’s far more experienced and skilled when it comes to it and it makes him feel slightly insecure. and jealous too. because he knows all of her exes were handsome jocks who probably scored more than twenty girls in their lives. no doubt that they had given her so much pleasure than he could possibly offer.

he wants to make her feel good. he really does.

“so, steve and robin gave me these” she pulls up two DVDs and show them to him. “evil dead and carrie. which one do you like best?”

he cocks an eyebrow, eyes switching between the two films. “i thought you wanted chick flicks or something like that?”

she shrugs, deciding to put evil dead on the player. “horror movies make me horny. and what better way to watch it than with my favorite man, hm?”

he chuckles nervously when she shoots him a wink and a smile. flirtatious one. “usually girls get horny when they see porn. but oh, not you. pretty fucked up if i might say.”

“you love it” she responds, crawling beside him as they both lay comfortably on her bed. “how’s your day, baby”

he puffs out a long exaggerated breath. “kind of shit, ms.O'Donnell been up my ass about the last assignment. she wanted me to re-do it.”

“aw that sucks” she pouts, running her fingers through his hair. “want me to beat her up for you?”

“no, i’m good” he laughs, not wanting her to do something that’ll damage her academics. the thing is about y/n, when she says something along the lines of ‘beating someone up’ you better not take it lightly.

because she will do it.

“too bad. I’d love to see her blood pouring out of those nostrils.” she sighs, plopping her head down on his chest as she hooks her leg with his. his arm wraps around her body protectively. “the offer still stands.”

“hey, enough of that would ya?” he kisses the crown of her head, smiling to himself. “as sexy as it is to see you get violent, the consequences will be ten times worse if you punch a teacher.”

“just gotta wait till graduation then.” she innocently replies, finger drawing circles on his chest.

halfway through the movie, eddie is trying his best to keep his focus on the plot. but she’s making it so hard for him to do so. she continuously shifts her weight on him, ‘accidentally’ brushing against his hard shaft with an innocent ‘oops’ every time she does it.

they’ve been together for almost a month and he hasn’t gotten used to the effect she has on him. it’s frustrating how he can’t control his thoughts and clammy palms whenever she puts her hands on his body.

“you okay?” she wonders, looking up at him with her doe eyes and playful smile. “you feel so tense, teddy”

“y-yeah” he stammers as his focus remains fixed on the screen. “just uhm, peachy”

peachy?? who the fuck says that?!

she hums in response, moving her mouth to attach itself on his neck with fingers moving down south to softly palm him over the thick material of his pants. he takes in a deep breath at the touch, finding it more difficult to think straight with her lips on him.

“y/n” he calls her softly, hand gripping tightly around her waist as he feels himself grow even more. “sweetheart i-“

she shushes him. “you look so good right now i have to do something eds.” her tongue licks a bold stripe on the skin, pushing her chest against his, “we can take turns later, yeah?”

he gulps, body melting under her touch. “s-shit, y/n wait, wait!“ he suddenly exclaims, freeing himself from her grip

y/n frowns when eddie pushes her lightly. feeling annoyed why he’s like that towards her.

“eddie what the fuck?! do you not want me to suck your cock?” she harshly asks, then a sudden realization hits her. “are you fucking another bitch behind my back, munson?!”

he wide-eyed her as she crosses her arm, ready to kill him at that exact moment. “what? no! w-what makes you think I’m cheating on you?!”

“who is it?” she shoots immediately. “Julia from the cheer team or that fucking weird four-eyed wendy’s looking motherfucker at loves to stare at you across the hall?!”

eddie is confused. he doesn’t even know who she’s talking about, let alone a wendy-looking girl that keeps staring at him. how does she even know that?

he shakes his head furiously, wrapping her hands in his grasp to reassure her.“no! oh god y/n, of course not! . i only got my eyes for my girl, you know that. plus, Julia? she hates me and my friends, why would you even think of her?”

“then what’s going on!” she groans, moving to kneel in front of him as he sits up straight. “every time we make out or when i try to suck you off, you’d push me away. are you not attracted to me, anymore?”

“princess, believe me when i say this has nothing to do with you! of course I’m still attracted to you.” he says, looking at her in the eye. “shoot me in the head if i decided to leave you for another woman, i give you the permission.”

“okay, so what is it?” her voice turns soft. “you can tell me.”

sooner or later, of course, eddie has to tell her the truth. he hates having to keep secrets from her, but it’s embarrassing. who the hell wants to date a virgin? if she found out about that, she’d look at him differently. and he doesn’t want to lose her. not when things start to get better for him,

she notices how his eyes drop down to his lap, fiddling with his fingers as he removes his hands from hers. this causes her eyebrows to knit in concern.

“baby? what’s going on” she reaches out to softly pat her thumb across his cheek,

“it’s pretty embarrassing” he lowly chuckles,

“it’s not if it got you all worked up like this. come on, It’s your girl.” she ducks her head down a bit to take a look at his features,

he exhales. “well you know it’s just that i…” he trails off, “never had sex before..”

“what?!” she sounds genuinely surprised. “you’re a virgin?”

he nods, slowly looking up to meet her eyes. “yeah. it’s why i have been so… weird. I’m sorry. i know you expected more from me.”

seeing him get so vulnerable and embarrassed because of that makes her heart break. that’s why he’s been avoiding her touch? god, this man is so precious she feels like she’s going to pass out.

“eddie, you don’t have to be sorry for being … inexperienced. there’s nothing wrong with that. and ‘expected more’? baby, you are already enough for me.” she cradles his face to get him to look at her. “do you think i care about whether you’re a virgin or not? because i don’t.”

“well, you’ve been with those guys before, right? i bet they made you feel good. and i want to do that too. perhaps even better.”

oh her heart is about to leap out of her chest.

“made me feel good? they thought they were doing something. i had to fake it because they barely knew how to do it”. she rolls her eyes, earning a small laugh from him.

“plus, i think it’s cute that no one has ever touched you before.” she giggles, pressing a kiss on his nose,

“well i don’t want to be cute! i want to be hot. for you” he grumbles, frowning like a small child.

“you are, baby” she giggles, even more, shaking her head at this adorable man. “so cute and hot, you make my head spin and panties drop. not a day goes by that i do not think of you”

“you mean that?” his voice small. “because you don’t have to say that just because I’m your boyfriend.”

“i meant every word. do you know how many girls i had to threaten and slammed against the wall for eyeing you? countless.”

“you never told me that…”

“not important” she waves her hand in an attempt to change the subject. “now… how about i make you feel good, hm?”

she moves to put her weight on top of him, putting her legs on either side of his thighs. his heart is beating a mile per minute the moment she sits there. having no idea where to place his hands, he just place them next to her knees.

there’s a twinkle of lust across her eyes, the straps of her blue nightgown falling down her shoulders. long messy hair tucks on the either side of her neck

“but i want to make you feel good too. make you cum on my fingers” he struggles to say each word when her hand begins to untie the strings of his sweatpants.

“we have plenty of time to do that, but … i think my boyfriend deserves it more. don’t you think?”

“well... only if you want to” he's being shy, cheeks red and it drives her mad how cute he's being with her

“of course, i want to.” his pants are pulled now down on his thighs and his cock springs free. “would you let me take care of you?”

he nods frantically, becoming putty underneath her bedroom eyes as she slowly wraps her soft palm around the base of his hard shaft. eddie had never thought her eye contact is strong enough to make his body tremble.

“f-fuck, sweetheart” he blows a sigh of pleasure when she goes down to lick the tip, humming to herself when she finally got a taste of him,

he watches every move she makes. afraid that if he misses just one second, he will regret it. it still doesn't feel real to him. having the prettiest girl in Hawkins as his girlfriend going down on his cock. with a sweet, innocent look decorating her features, enough to make him cream already. but he's holding it.

dear god, he's trying to hold it.

”not even halfway through but you taste so good to me already” she smiles with her tongue still out, he catches a glimpse of her piercing and almost lets out a moan. ”and you have been hiding this from me? not nice”

the minute she slips his cock into her mouth, he's a goner already. brown eyes lulling onto the back of his head with a soft grunt following. she drags her tongue slowly from the base of his shaft, all the way up before closing her mouth around the reddening tip. keeping her eyes on him as she goes, who seems to be having a hard time trying to compose himself.

a devilish smile appears on her face, and her freshly manicured hand reaches out to give his balls a soft squeeze. he flinches at the sudden contact, groaning and moaning when she works on her tongue around him.

”does that feel good, eds?” she checks on him to make after pulling her mouth off. making sure he’s enjoying every moment. coating the tip with her spit before she spreads it with her thumb, ”like having my mouth on you?”

he can only nod to answer, his body is consumed by too much euphoria to give her a verbal response. chest raising with a heavy breath every time her fingers tip-toeing over the sensitive skin. balling his fists so hard, he wouldn't be surprised if his fingernails create a dent in his palms,

”use your words, come on” she moves her hand up and down the stiff flesh with a soft grip, watching his mouth fall open.

”fuck yes. it feels so good b-baby please... don't stop, please” he begs in between breaths, almost sounding like a squeak. eddie finally opens up his eyes to gaze back at her. giving her, his best pleading look, ”i wanted your mouth for so long”

”good boy” with that, she slides his cock back into her wet mouth. while her other hand runs up and down his thigh, sending a light shiver down his spine and arising goosebumps on his skin

eddie's fingers are curling up against the sheets. a strangled noise leaving his throat when the sight of her breasts almost spilling out from the dress. looking like a proper porn star.

he thinks he might actually pass out from this. the velvety insides of her mouth make his head spin and her tongue never seemed to stop teasing the tip. his legs are tense and she can see it from the corner of her eye. she’s taken by surprise when his hips accidentally bucking up, hitting the back of her throat.

”shit, s-sorry about that, sweetheart” he softly tells her, earning a squeeze on his thigh from her as a reassurance that it's okay.

he feels his body is blazing. he can't exactly describe it but it feels so good. pure bliss blooms inside of him when she continues to bob her head up and down. and fuck, eddie doesn't want to cum just yet. but he can't take it anymore. not when she peers up at him through her lashes, still with that innocent look on her face. or when she reaches out to squeeze his heavy balls of cum.

it gets even more harder when she sinks further, moaning around his cock because the sweet, sweet taste of him is creating an excitement that bubbles in her stomach

“f-fuck, fuck. i'm cumming” he rushes, thinking that she might pull away but she only wraps her lips tighter around him. sucking even harder until he releases it all. thick, white string of cum falling in her mouth and painting her tongue. eddie cries out in pleasure, screwing his eyes shut.

his fingers slowly start to loosen the grip around the sheets, his breath going steady, and relaxes both his legs.

she pops off of him, brushing a finger in the corner of her mouth to swipe his remaining. not wanting it to go to waste. “you're so adorable” with a giggle, she plops herself next to him, “how was it?”

“fucking amazing” he laughs breathlessly, rubbing his face up and down with his hands before facing her. a lopsided smile tugging her lips. ”god you were so good with it, I thought I was going to die”

“never heard that one before” she snickers playfully, making herself comfortable underneath the duvet. cuddling up to him. “you tasted so good too, what's the secret?”

he pretends to think while pulling herself close to him. “cheerios and cigarettes”

she swats his chest with the back of her hand, making him laugh. ”I'm gonna make you some real food. my man needs to have the stamina if he's planning to fuck me with his cock.”

he freezes, leaning back slightly to take a good look at her face to see if she's pulling his leg. “what?”

“you heard me.” her voice is stern but also playful. “you're gonna fuck me into oblivion and I will guide you through it if I have to. and we're not stopping until you make both of my legs shake that i can’t fucking walk to school tomorrow.”

eddie is certain he's in heaven right now

[concreteburialplot]

Delicate Beginning Rush

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!reader

masterlist: here | crossposted; ao3 | word count: 4.8k

warnings: alcohol, fluff??? who am i ????¿, shy nerdy nicholas, awkward fumbling drunk sex, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation, nick has a big massive fat-, cum play ??, subby nick if you squint, reader doesn’t know anything about star wars / pop culture ? lol, au; college omens, 18+ MDNI

summary; your friend drags you to a house party you never wanted to be at but end up being grateful when a cute shy boy changes the course of your night

a/n: this is a work of fiction, don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

Around you rages a random college house party that your roommate dragged you to. The house itself was huge and almost dollhouse-like. You weren’t sure who’s party it was or who all lived there, all you did know was that your friend was on a mission. You’ve met the group of boys your friend was interested in a couple times. She’s been trying to get with one… or two of them? You aren’t quite sure anymore. But they were some boys from your English class that happened to be in a band – at least that’s what you’d gathered with various random study dates with them. They were chill, but you could tell that they were mostly interested in your roommate. At least that’s what it seemed like, with the way they’d usually only pay mind to her while you’d be working on assignments.

But now, you sit on the kitchen counter of this giant house with a raven-haired tattooed boy standing between your legs. You both are tipsy, giggly messes.

Your hands intertwined with his and playfully sway back and forth at his sides; the warm alcohol running through your veins makes you both more touchy-feely than normal. The drink coats your body in a tingly warmth.

“How come I didn’t know you were so funny huh?” You nudge his shoulder with the right set of your connected hands. Your fingers slip from the hold and brings the plastic cup full of neon blue to your lips. You take a sip looking up at him through glassy eyes over the white ridge of the cup. The sickeningly sweet beverage burns your throat with at least 3 different liquors mixed.

His tan cheeks are tinted peachy pink from the alcohol and a sweet smile tugs at his lips. “I don’t know.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t really talk much I guess.”

Which was true. Now thinking about it, in all your group hangouts he was mostly silent, only speaking when spoken to. The other three boys were loud and quite talkative. Especially the two your roommate was pining after, both with long hair and one with an accent. It really depended on the day which she was leaning towards more. Tonight, it was Jolly, the one with the accent.

“Yeah, I noticed that.” You say softly, “But you seem much more talkative now with some of…” You hold up the horrid concoction you were given, “Whatever this is.”

He smiles, “Yeah, I guess it helps me out of my shell a little.”

It seemed to help him out of his shell a lot, with him talking to you for the past hour and making you laugh harder than you had in a while. You barely even knew what his voice sounded like before tonight. But you found that you really enjoyed it, it was deep and raspy but upticks when he’s excited about something. It swirls a flurry of butterflies in your tummy that you write off as just the alcohol’s doing.

“Well, I quite like you out of your shell Nicholas.” You beam sitting up. One arm wrapping around your own midsection and the other feeding more sips of drink to your mouth. You find the edges of your lips curling at how the blue liquid tinted the inside of his lips. You wonder if the stain on his mouth tastes just as sweet as the drink.

A blush coats his cheeks, and his eyes fall to his cup, “Oh, you can call me Nick.”

“Alright, Nick.” You grin and take the last sip of your drink. “You know it’s awfully loud in here.” You use a tried-and-true line.

“Oh, well, we could um,” He knocks back the last of his own drink. “We could go up to my room?” He offers kindly.

Hook.

Line.

Sinker.

“Sure, I think that’s a great idea.”

You hop off the counter and he takes your hand, weaving you through the crowded party and up the stairs. He pulls you into his room, the second door to the right. The room was cleaner and more decorated than you’d expect from a random college boy.

Your eyes wander across the shelves of figurines, books, and posters on the walls. It was all quite… “nerdy”, the only thing you could really recognize was Star Wars while the rest just seemed like miscellaneous anime memorabilia. It didn’t make it any less pretty or interesting, quite the opposite, you were awestruck.

Another wall was covered in framed records that hung above a bookshelf filled with vinyls and topped with a record player. Your gaze flows down to where propped guitars litter the floor.

“It’s lame I know.” He scratches the back of his neck with a subtle embarrassment on his face.

The mandatory college boy light strips around the room were set to purple and moving the light in a pattern – alternating between blocks of bright violent and dim violet. Your eyes followed the blocks as they trailed along the ceiling. The light strips and a warm yellow lamp on his night were the only sources of illumination.  

“No, no.” Your eyes finally land on Nick again. “I think it’s really cool.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, it’s definitely not that.”

“Most boys’ rooms are bare with a mattress on the floor. Your room is so full of personality… and you have a bed frame.” You laugh. “It’s cool. I promise.”

The more you looked at his personality-filled room, the more you wondered how he kept all of this contained. You would’ve never guessed this is what his room would look like. But you sure were happy you were found out.

“Well, I’m glad you think so.” He says and sort of shifts on his heels. He picks up some random fidget toy and begins playing with it, it’s obvious he’s a little nervous.

You carefully sat on the bed, making sure not to disrupt the nicely made sheets.

“I don’t know anything about that stuff.” You say naively. You’ve been around enough nerdy boys to know that always gets them going.

“Of what? Star Wars?” His glassy eyes grow wide and shocked.

You giggle at his reaction, “Yeah, any of it really. Like all this stuff in here. Except the music, obviously.”

“No way.” He scoffs. “There’s no way you’ve never even seen one Star Wars movie?”

“Nope.” You lift your shoulders to a shrug, “But I’m sure you’re about to tell me about it.”

“Well, I mean, it’s only my civil duty to inform you about them.” The edge of his mouth pulls into a playful grin.

You bite down on your lip to stifle another liquor-soaked giggle. “Alright. Well, let’s hear it then.”

The way the corners of his lips curl directly into his cheekbones is so adorable you don’t even mind that he’s derailed your mission of hooking up.  You pull yourself further back into his bed making room for him.

“Okay, so.” He says excitedly with an uptick in his voice and scrambles to sit next to you on the bed. He takes an inhale before beginning to speak, almost like he doesn’t even know where to start.

Even though you were originally in this for something completely different, now you don’t mind just sitting here and listening to him excitedly talk about … whatever he’s talking about.

You let him drunkenly ramble without interrupting him, nodding at any points he was making. He lost you fairly early on, when he started to explain how the movies are chronologically not in order or something along those lines. But that didn’t stop you from just listening to him speak or admire how animated he got with his hands while explaining things.

He was just so cute – the way when he smiled, really smiled, it lit up his whole face. This smile reached his eyes, lighting them up with so much life. This was the first time you really noticed his eyes, with the purple lights reflecting in them you couldn’t even tell what color they truly were – they looked grey, then blue, then green all at once. When you were really lost in them is when he caught you.

He reeled his arms back to his body, giving you a little embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so much.” His gaze fell before bashfully meeting you again.

“No, no, no.” You quickly answer, immediately feeling guilty for not paying enough attention. “I liked listening to you.”

“Oh, you don’t gotta say that.” A light pink coats his cheeks before his eyes fall to his fiddling fingers. “I’m used to it. Most people don’t tend to listen to me anyway.”

Your chest twists at the thought of anyone ever making him feel unheard or ignored.

“Hey, no.” You reach between you and grab his wrist, then meet his eyes. “I was listening to you. I really like hearing you talk. Okay? You can keep going if you want.”

He blushes a little more and gives a small nod. “Okay.”

He continues on some tangent he left hanging, and you return to your place with your chin on your palm supported by an elbow to your knee.

You didn’t lie, you really do like listening to him – you said nothing about understanding anything he said. Especially with how fuzzy your head is right now, you don’t understand a single word he’s saying. All you can pay attention to is the smooth waves of his cadence and his adorable mannerisms.

He pauses and chuckles nervously, “What? Did I lose you again?”

The edges of your lips curl up, and you shake your head.

“No.” You hum and press your lips together as you reach up to tuck some hair behind his ear. “I’m just wondering if you tell every girl you bring up here about Star Wars.” You giggle.

He nearly scoffs at even the idea. “No, definitely not.” He reaches up to scratch his arm “Mostly because I never really bring anyone up here. I usually stay here during their parties. They’re not really my thing.” He shrugs and fidgets with his thumbs as he speaks, transfixed on them while occasionally looking up to meet your eyes. “I don’t really like the loud music, or the people… or the alcohol usually. Really none of it is for me.”

“Well, I’m really glad you were down there tonight.” You smile sweetly, just admiring how pretty and delicate he is. You move your hand just a bit forward so that the tips of your fingers interlace with his and lean towards him.

A shy grin spreads across his lips, “Yeah me too.” He replies softly while matching your actions and moving closer to you. His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and you can’t help but mirror it. His lips were perfect and plump and all you wanted to do was be on them.

From all the pieces of him you’ve gathered tonight, it’s easy to assume that he’s probably pretty anxious and can’t read social cues that well. So, you decide to spell it out for him.

“I want you to kiss me, Nick.” You breathe into the gap between your lips.

He gives you a quick but urgent nod before softly crashing his lips into yours.

The kiss ignites sparks all over your body, firecrackers exploding within each cell. Your hand finds his cheek to pull him in closer. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip asking for entrance and you oblige without a second thought.

His tongue hesitantly flicks at yours which begins a playful dance between them. It’s not rough or dominance-seeking, it’s needy and soft.

You tangle both hands into his long long locks and lean back on his bed, pulling him on top of you between your legs without ever breaking the kiss.

He’s so gentle with you. His hands stationed at each end of your body, one soft on your face and the other resting tenderly on your side. His tongue was skillful but mellow, just enjoying the kiss with you. It’s not often a guy wants to take his time and not rush, but he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he was setting the pace.

It’s exciting and delicious all at once.

Your hand meets his face to bring him even closer before reaching up and tangling your fingers into his dark hair again. His scent fills your nostrils and it’s something woodsy and… spicy? Sweet, but peppery. The smell of his cologne goes straight down between your legs and worsens the throbbing there.

You continue the lazy kissing but take the lead again and slowly guide his hand to your tit, letting him know that it’s okay to touch you. He doesn’t need much convincing; his hand begins needing the soft tissue of your breast over thin t-shirt fabric. His fingertips lightly pinch your pebbled nipple. You can’t help but let out a tiny whine into his mouth.

You’re reminded of just how drunk you are when your numbed fingertips trail down his shirt to his belt and fumble with it. You struggle with the button and the zipper, but you finally reach his hardening cock. He lets out a small groan once you start palming him over his boxers. While you can’t even see it, you can tell it’s big – which surprises you, especially with his shy demeanor and the tight-ass pants he usually wears.

He follows suit, letting his hand trail down your side until it’s between your thighs beneath your skirt, running a finger between your panty-covered lips. You moan into the kiss; you need him like air – more than just his finger over cotton.

Since he seems to base his actions and pace on yours, probably out of courtesy to make sure he’s not crossing any lines, you dip your hand past the wide band of his boxer briefs. His cock is thick and heavy in your hand as you begin pumping him within his boxers.

It works, he dips into your panties and lets his fingers explore you. He rounds your clit nearly causing your entire body to convulse. Then he slowly brings them down to your entrance which makes you immediately roll your hips up towards his hand – your core aching to have something, anything inside you. A louder moan escapes once you feel two fingers slip inside you.

You pump his large member in your hand, and you can feel his pulse in it. The walls around his fingers tighten once he starts rutting into your fist – he needs you just as badly. You break the kiss, and your chests rise and fall rapidly together. He doesn’t pull away, instead, he presses his forehead against yours.

“Jesus fucking christ you’re so fucking big.” You breathe out heavily between you two.

Pink flushes across his cheeks in the cutest way. “Thanks.” He replies shortly almost as if he’s ashamed to receive the compliment.

Your brows knit together and your head tilts to the side. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry if I-”

“No, no, it’s not that it’s just…” He presses his lips together for a moment. “It’s big.”

You chuckle, “I mean yeah, every guy says that right?”

“It’s just… I just don’t wanna hurt you.” He says sheepishly. “If you want to go further that is, of course.”

You watch him with a skeptical gaze trying to analyze his features to see if he’s joking but, he seems serious. Of course, he feels big in your hand, but you don’t have a full gauge of it – you can’t see it. Surely it can’t be that big. He’s probably just exaggerating. Regardless, you find it endearing that he’s so concerned about hurting you.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” You wave off the conversation because you enthusiastically want to get back to the journey you were on before.

His lips urgently find yours again and his fingers continue their plight inside you – two curling right into your sweet spot and his thumb rolling small circles into your swollen clit. You’re grateful for the loud party downstairs that masks some of the noises you’re making.

Your hand works on him at the same pace as his fingers do on you. Deep groans rumble in his chest and in the back of his throat.

Breathlessly, you pull from the kiss looking up at him like he’s a glass of water after a trek through the desert. “Fuck- I” A moan slips from you. “Fuck I need you. I need your cock.”

“Are you sure?” He asks and pulls away, “Because I–“

The pulsing in your core outweighs your patience and you hastily tug down his pants, letting his cock spring out fully.

Your eyes widen at his size. He wasn’t joking - he’s fucking massive. So massive in fact that it almost terrifies you and makes you question if it could even fit inside you. It’s almost as long as your arm and thicker than a can of RedBull.

Nick must’ve picked up on your fear because his cheeks grow rosy in embarrassment. “See. I told you.” He says dishearteningly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to try, I really understand. Just let me eat you instead?”

You blink at him, somewhat taken aback by the whole situation. As much as you wanted to try – and you really wanted to try, the worry of you both being too drunk to properly prep you was imminent and you really didn’t want to risk him hurting you.

“Okay…” You agree timidly. “Sure.”

He smiles seeming happy to just be able to make you feel good regardless. His lips meet yours again and repeat the same soft dance as earlier for a moment before beginning to pepper kisses down your body. First, your neck, giving you open-mouth kisses with an occasional suck. Then, down your torso and tummy until he’s finally between your legs. He swiftly slips your panties off.

His inked fingers help to spread you open, using your own arousal to easily slide between your lips.

“So pretty.” He mumbles before diving in causing an abrupt whine from you at the sudden stimulation.

His lips and tongue work as delicately and meticulously between your folds as they did with your mouth. You could swear his tongue was made of some sort of magic from how good he was making you feel already. His tongue was masterful in how it would flatten and then curve around your swollen clit.

You peer down at him at work, and he was so beautiful, eating you like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. He must’ve felt your gaze on him because he looks up at you with lustful but sweet green-grey eyes. They make your breath hitch in your throat.

It was artistic how he’d move his tongue up and down in swirly wavy patterns serving you a perfect rhythm of stimulation then rest then repeat. Not too fast, not too slow, not too hard, not too light. His tongue was immaculate.

“Fuck Nick,” You groan, letting your head fall harshly back on the pillow and your hand dives into his hair again. “Fuck don’t stop, that feels so fucking good- Fuck.”

The knot in your tummy grew more with each twist of his tongue and when he started incorporating his fingers again, hitting just the right spot, you knew you were done for.

“God, fuck!” You moan out loudly, tugging at his roots and rutting your hips up into his mouth. The knot threatening to snap at any given flick of his tongue. “Fuck, fuck, Nick, fuck I’m gonna cum!”

He speeds his pace up ever so slightly, not enough to ruin your ride but just enough to push you over the edge. He even lets out a moan against your cunt letting you know that really fucking likes the way you’re reacting to him.

Your grip on his hair is tight and probably painful but the screams that leave your throat distract you from staying gentle. Your legs clamp around his head and your back arches from the bed as you release fully onto him. He groans deeply against you again, seemingly even more turned on than before.

He doesn’t stop, no matter how tight your legs suffocate him or how hard you pull at his hair. He doesn’t stop for a second. His speed is perfect, enough to keep you going but not enough to overstimulate you. He keeps you riding a delicate tightrope, stretching your climax out as far as he can.

Your tummy fills with rampant butterflies and a buzzing spreads across your skin as he gently carries you into another orgasm. Pleasure crashes into you like a tidal wave to shore. Every inch of your body reacts to him, bending to his skillful craft.

Screams erupt from the base of your throat, your body not able to contain the rush of euphoria that he’s sent you into. Your hips rut up into his mouth and your walls spasm around his fingers but he keeps his actions steady and consistent. His fingers curl and thrust into you harmoniously with his tongue, letting you ride out your high on his face.

You pat his head a bit to indicate you were done. He looks up at you so happy, so grateful to serve you. His eyes are bright and full of pride that he was able to make you feel that good.

He pulls away, revealing him working his still-hard cock in his hand. Watching him move his fist up and down his veiny shaft and roll around his head has you buzzing again. He slips his fingers from you and replaces his working hand with the one covered in your juices, using your orgasm as lubricant.

“Fuck.” He mumbles, his eyes still fixated on your dripping cunt.

Your hand slithers down between your legs and use two fingers to spread yourself open for him. His tongue swipes between his lips as you begin playing with yourself – dipping into your entrance to gather some arousal to bring up to your pulsing clit.

You bite down on your bottom lip while his hand speeds up on his member, the sight of it turning you on beyond belief – especially since he was using your slick to work himself. He pumps his member faster and faster, his chest heaving accordingly. You’re both transfixed on each other’s actions, just getting off at the sight of the other fucking themselves.

The head of his cock is so swollen and dark red and leaking precum. It’s massive and could probably fill your entire mouth if you were to suck him off. His hand grows erratic and sloppy as his other keeps him propped up on the bed.  

You feel a 3rd climax creeping up on you, filling your bud with nerves begging for relief again. Your free hand slides up your torso to squeeze your breast, watching him start to unravel. Your fingers work precise circles around your nub, occasionally moving down into your entrance. You never knew how powerful it could feel watching a man get off on just the sight of you. You loved the way his eyes tracked your fingers, how they’d widen if you spread your folds for him, how his hand would speed up if you fucked yourself.

“F-fuck.” He mutters, letting himself rest down on his elbow. “Ah-uh- fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He quickly lifts his shirt to reveal his tummy just before milky white ribbons decorate the tattoos there. His eyes flutter close, and his head lulls back as he works every bit of cum out of himself. His lips part slightly, letting delicious groans and whimpers pour from his mouth.

Thankfully, you’re just as close and his moans along with the sight of him coating himself in cum push you over the edge. Flashing white blinds your sight and your thighs clamp around your hand. Your fingers don’t stop moving until his hand does.

You ride out your highs together before your bodies relax back into the bed. You lay there breathless beside him, your chests rising and falling rhythmically. He hadn’t even fucked you but that was still some of the hottest sex you’d ever had. God, his tongue was nothing short of magical.

The silence between you both is awkward but endearing, unfamiliar but delicate. Your tummy fills with fluttering butterflies just at his proximity. Finding a guy who made you feel like this was the last thing you expected to happen tonight.

A chill from the air conditioning reminds you that you’re still bare from the waist down. Strawberry pink flushes your cheeks as you lower your skirt back down. He follows suit and tucks himself back into his boxers.

You nervously chuckle and go to speak but he starts at the same time as you. The blush on your cheek only worsens.

“Oh sorry I-“ You both fumble over each other’s words again.

“You go.” He offers.

“No, no you go.” You reply, motioning for him to speak.

He chuckles with his eyes adverting yours. “Um, sorry if – if, you didn’t want, erm, this.” Referencing his jerking off.

“No – no it was –“

“You just – you sounded so pretty.” He blurts out. “And you tasted so good… I just, got worked up.” His cheeks and the tip of his nose coated in a deep pink. “Sorry.”

You try to keep yourself from smiling too big because you find his embarrassment so cute.

“It’s okay. I liked it.” You reassure, and for some reason, it tints your cheeks too.

“You did?” He asks almost shocked.

“Mhm.” You reply, digging your teeth into your lip and nod. You liked it more than wanted to admit. “A lot.”

“Okay.” He nods bashfully. “I, um, I’m gonna clean up now. Can I get you anything?”

“Hmm, maybe a water when you’re done?”

“Okay.” He sits up a bit. “Um, do you mind just kind of, looking away?”

Your eyes furrow and your head tilts at him in confusion but you comply. “Sure.” You cover your eyes with your hands. “Why am I looking away?” You question, seeing as you just saw a lot of him.

He shifts in the bed, and you hear him slip his shirt off, probably to use it to clean up his mess.

“I don’t know. I just don’t like to be shirtless around people, I guess.” He answers shyly.

“Oh, I’m sure you look good!”

“No.” He scoffs adamantly, “Definitely not.”

“I don’t believe you.” You hum, wiggling a bit while still covering your eyes. “But I’ll take your word for… for now.”

You sense him get off the bed and open some drawers. After a few moments, he lets you know it’s okay to look again. You open your eyes to see that he’s changed into a graphic tee and a pair of shorts that have some kind of wolf design on them. He somehow looks even better than before.

He returns with two bottles of water, one for you and one for him. He shuts the bedroom door so gently like he’s trying not to wake anyone, as if there isn’t a raging party downstairs. He hands you a water bottle before he cracks his own open and takes a gulp.

“Thanks.” You say with a small smile. As you steal your first sip, you take note of his shirt. “Deft-tones?” You sound out the word trying to make out what it means. “Is that a band or something?”

The look that washes over his face as he’s drinking is pure shock and confusion. You may as well have told him you didn’t know who Mickey Mouse was. He abruptly pulls the bottle from his lips with furrowed brows, “You’ve never heard of Deftones?”

You press your lips together and shake your head, “Nope.”

“You’ve never watched Star Wars and you’ve never listened to Deftones? What rock have you been hiding under?” He teases.

“I don’t know, a heavy one I guess.” You giggle and give him a shrug.

“Oh man. If I wasn’t still so drunk right now, I’d play you something.” He laughs and sits on the bed beside you. “But anything I play right now is gonna sound like ass.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.” You smirk and shake your head. You hadn’t heard his band play, but judging by how skilled his fingers were, he had to be good.

“No, no. It’s true. But you’ve gotta let me play something for you sometime.” His grin begins wide then shortens. “If you want that is.”

Right then, you couldn’t imagine anything you wanted more.

“I’d love that.”

tag list; i don't currently have a general tag list for all my fics so if you'd like to be added to that pls lmk!

a/n; thank you for reading if you did! i'm not that good at writing smut so sorry if it wasn't that great! i really enjoyed writing this one bc was just so fluffy and awkward and sweet, which is so different than anything else that i normally ever write LOL

Thank you for any support you guys ever give me on any of my works, it truly means the world to me that you guys enjoy my words and lil plots.

let me know if you liked it! i love hearing your thoughts 🩷

[aliaology]

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: yn makes it to michigan with her friend sabrina, shockingly, reconnecting with old friends and also bumping into bad memories.

series masterlist

you felt weird, the stares of others pouring heavily onto your body. you didn’t like it, the feeling, whatsoever. the crowd parted as you walked into the house. the memories from this house flooded through your mind, from running to your room away from jack, to even skinny dipping with him in the lake.

you watched cole leap up and made his way to you, leaving a very uncomfortable jack and trevor behind. "bells! you made it" he grinned.

the shorter boy threw his arms around you in happiness. "hey coley, i told you i'd be here" you smiled, hugging him back.

"i know but it's just, unreal! i haven't seen you in forever!" he smiled.

you frowned. "im sorry cole, ive been really busy in toronto and it doesn't help that i feel so out of place in michigan now.." you trailed off.

"dont sweat it, bells. im just glad you're here" he smiled at you. "how long are you staying here for?" he asked.

"well— sab leaves tomorrow, im staying to get my dorm situated back at umich" you told. cole nodded.

"get lunch with me tomorrow then? i want to catch up" you just nodded before hearing your name get called. looking behind you, you see some of jack's teammates.

jack's teammates, john marino and nico hischier always liked you. hell, you still talked to them to ask how games went and just how they were.

"ill talk to you later coley" you grinned.

cole nodded and went back to trevor and jack. trevor held a sour look on his face while jack looked pissed. you grabbed sab’s arm and brought her with you to john and nico.

"hi johnny, hi nico" you smiled at them, giving them each hugs once you got to them. "its been awhile." you added.

"seriously, a long time. have you been in toronto the entire time?" john asked.

you nodded. "yeah, i moved in with my brother. im with him for just two more weeks until i move into my new apartment." you smiled.

"really? where you moving to?" nico asked.

"new york, actually." you grinned. "maybe ill drive over to nj and pop in."

nico grinned, "i'd be careful with that one, y/n. i cant lie, jacks been in a little bit of a twist since your song came out." he spoke.

john nodded. "more standoff-ish, but he had it coming.”

you heard sab snort from behind you, causing you to grin along. "sorry its just— one of my songs ends with ‘he had it coming’ and it reminded me of that.” sabrina spoke.

"its okay— how have you both been?” nico asked. you looked at sabrina with a hesitation glint in your eyes. she just sent you a nod.

“ive been— okay? uhm, just a lot going on currently. very stressed i dont know— i just cant wait to get back to umich.” you explained.

“and i have to go back to LA tomorrow so i have to soak my time up with my girl.” sabrina grinned, tossing an arm around your neck.

"uh oh— warning, trevor is on his way over.” john said, bringing his cup to his mouth to quiet his words before taking a sip of whatever alcoholic drink he had.

you tensed up slightly, not turning your head, you kept close to sabrina.

"what up guys, how you enjoying the party? cole's wondering." trevor faked a smile.

"oh, very fun if i do say so myself." sabrina sarcastically spoke.

you nudged her slightly, elbowing her in the side. she sent you a glare, basically stating ‘cut the shit.’

trevor sarcastically smiled. "well isn't that just peachy? anyone here finding someone to go home with tonight? i know it shouldn't be too hard for some of you."

you grab nico's drink, sipping it yourself. "maybe— i heard that dixie girl is single, might ask her to go home with me.” you shrugged.

the four guys went completely silent. you coughed, "anyone up for another drink? i think i need to get drunk tonight." and you walked away.

“oh my god” sabrina laughed, immediately going after you.

“fucking bitch”

trevor scoffed, walking away in anger. john and nico looked at each other, wide eyes. "holy shit."

lol hey... this sucked but hey! tags: @honethatty12 , @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @lovinbarzal , @outrunangelss , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot , @shadowsndaisies @lxnceclercs

[house-of-kolchek]

Aw, Rats!

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

@obsessedwithtoomanythings here. I’ve given into my obsession with the man. The myth. The absolute fucking legend. Have 2000 words of tropes and cliches because Leon S. Kennedy DEMANDS tooth rotting fluff. Also takes place during Infinite Darkness because dilf leon is choking me.

Word Count: 2.2k

Check out my page for more!

You didn’t like submarines. 

The metal structure around you groaned, reminding you of the literal tons of litres of water that waited just on the other side of the walls. One pinprick through that barrier, and life as you knew it could be over. Not to mention the endless depths absolutely full of weird creatures that could be lurking anywhere.

Zombies, you could handle. But the ocean? Fuuuuuuuck no.

Your foot tapped incessantly against the ground, echoing lightly throughout the room you stood in. It felt cramped - much like every other room in the submersible - with small, rounded walls that threatened to swallow you whole. One of the chairs squeaked across the room, and you lifted your gaze from the ground.

Leon stood to face you, reaching to swipe a stray hair from his forehead. In a second, you were fully distracted from your discomfort, your senses zeroing in on the man. His gaze caught yours, locking you in place as he reached for the hand you had just been picking at. With a brow raised, he brushed his thumb across the reddening skin of your knuckle, effectively stealing any remnant of breath you had.

“Gonna be okay there?” he asked, all low and husky. You blinked, your mind taking too long to process his words. Forcing a breath through your nostrils, you nodded your head, a little stiffer than usual.

“Just peachy. You know how much I love being confined in an underwater death trap.”

Hey. At least you were being half honest with him.

Leon masked his laugh with a long exhale, his lips quirking upwards. His thumb brushed over your knuckles again, your skin catching on the seam of his glove, and you had to swallow back another short burst of breath. 

“I’m never gonna be able to convince you that these things are not underwater death traps, but a perfectly safe method of transportation, am I?” he sighed, rolling his eyes in a playful manner. Your own lips twitched into a smile. 

“Nope. So when we end up dying in an underwater blaze, just know I’ll be blaming you,” you retorted, acutely aware of the grip he still had on your hand.

“Well we can’t have that,” he tutted, “Is there any way I can repay you for this atrocity I’ve committed?”

“You can pay for my therapy bills.”

“How about dinner instead?”

You blinked again, willing the heat that formed in your cheeks to disperse. As if he could read your mind, Leon smirked, leaning just a touch closer, enough so you could barely feel the breath from his nose dance across your face.

“Only if I get to pick the restaurant.” You cringed at your words. What kind of flirting was that?

And yet, a light blush covered Leon’s cheeks, and you wondered if the tone of your voice caught him off guard. It had come out slightly more husky than you’d expected. Leon’s lips parted, a sentence finally beginning to form on his tongue, when a sharp voice cut from behind you.

“Will you two just fuck already?”

If you thought you were blushing before, this would have been the next level.

You were sure your face grew as bright as Leon’s, his eyes widening as his gaze darted to your lips, ever so briefly. He cleared his throat, stepping back from you and swiftly exiting the room. Your face felt like it was on fire as your gaze slid to Shen Mei. Her lips curved into a devious smirk, watching as you stumbled for composure.

“What the hell?” You hissed, and she shrugged. Shrugged.

“We’re all thinking it,” she chuckled, eyeing you once again. “I know you’re thinking it.”

With a groan, you slid to the floor, not even bothering to find a chair. Why were you so obvious?

You hated this push and pull between the two of you. Leon Kennedy was a smart, capable man, fronting one impossible mission after the other. For someone who’d been through so much, to keep that playful attitude and those half-crooked grins… it drew your level of respect and affection for the man even higher. But you were merely a partner, another agent. Hell, you weren’t even one of the agents he chose to partake in extracurricular activities with.

But still. Leon was a good person, and like it or not, he had your heart. So you’d spend your days supporting him, watching his back and indulging in his banters and his flirting, no matter how much it ached in your chest. 

“He’s really got you fucked up, doesn’t he?” Shen Mei commented again, earning her another sharp glare. Of course, as an outsider it would be funny to see someone flounder and flail in their own pool of emotions. But to you, it was like you were drowning in them, facing wave after wave head-on. 

“Shuddup,” you mustered, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes before letting your hands run down your face. “‘m fine.”

She snorted, gesturing to the chair that looked so inviting across the other end of the metal table. It looked like an ass-shredder, but it had to be better than the floor. 

You lifted yourself from the floor, barely reaching a crouched position before a force on the ground sent you toppling forwards. Your forehead cracked off the edge of the table, sending a sharp stab of pain across your face. You faintly heard Shen Mei’s voice ringing out, and a hand across your shoulder. The sensation left just as quickly though, as the walls creaked around you and you found yourself pitching backwards, landing awkwardly on your spine. 

You blinked, stars dancing across your vision as the lights grew dark, replacing the world around you in a deep red hue. Bringing your hand up to your forehead, you groaned as your fingers grew damp. The table must have cut through your skin, as you surveyed the blood across your fingers, looking nearly black under the emergency lighting. 

The emergency lighting. 

Emergency.

“Shit!” you cursed, hauling yourself to your feet, only to stumble against the wall as a spell of dizziness consumed you. “Fuck.”

Blinking the stars away again, your stomach dropped at the empty room. Had Shen Mei left you? Just like that? A sense of unease settled in your chest, blending with a strange kind of hurt. Why would she have just left you?

You shook your head, rising unsteady to your feet. If there was something wrong with the sub, you needed to get the fuck out of there, with or without Shen Mei. Stumbling the first few steps, you kept a hand on the wall next to you as you exited the room.

It was strangely empty, the infinite darkness from the power outage creeping in on you. Something felt off. You took two steps to the left, hesitating on the third. With a glance in either direction, your stomach really started to turn.

Which way was out?

Your growing fear was amplified tenfold as a crash rang through the hall, followed by what sounded to be some sort of high pitched ringing. Squinting against the darkness, you strained to make out any shapes, ignoring the dull aching in your head, until-

“Leon? What are you- ARE THOSE RATS?”

You barely caught his gaze, watching his brows scrunch together at the sight of you, before his hand caught your wrist to drag you along with him, not even faltering in his pace. 

“Yep!” He cried, yanking you forward on unsteady feet. The sudden rush of movement sent your head spinning again, and you tripped against the ground, shuddering at the brush of fur against your ankles.

“Leon wait! I can’t-” you choked on nothing, hissing as another wave of pain coursed through your head. Stumbling again, Leon finally slowed his pace. His hand found your jaw, tilting your head towards him for a brief moment, and then he was guiding you behind him, unholstering his handgun.

In your daze, you barely processed the sharp gunshot that rang through the cabin. Nor did you notice the second one. Before you could blink, an arm was around your waist, hauling your feet off the ground with a jolt.

You blinked, senses slowly returning to you, only to realize you were dangling just above a mass of water, electricity and… dying rats. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around Leon, digging your nails into his jacket and curling your legs around him. He grunted at the movement, his arm tightening its hold against your waist. 

“Oh my God!” you cried, reaching a free arm to find your own grip on the structure he was dangling from. “Here- you’re gonna fall, get another grip on it!” Leon blinked, his gaze flickering from the water below to your expression, darting up again to what you assumed was a nasty gash across your forehead. 

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted, straining against your combined weight. “Don’t want you to lose your balance and fall.”

The swell in your heart was suppressed by your concern as he grumbled once more. You tried to ignore the pain as you supported more of your own weight, feeling Leon’s grip loosen only slightly to allow your adjustment. You watched his brows furrow and relax again, a heavy breath escaping his lips and fanning against the side of your cheek. You sucked in a breath of your own, willing the images of his lips out of your head. 

“That’s a nasty cut there,” he commented, as if there weren’t hundreds of rats burning to death just inches below your feet. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” you parroted, at least somewhat unintentionally. He shot you a look, and you couldn’t help the twitch in your lips. “When the sub crashed or whatever I fell and clipped the table.” Leon nodded his head, his brows knitting together again.

“What about Shen Mei?”

“I dunno,” you gulped, letting your gaze fall to the side. It almost felt like his face was growing closer to yours. “She was there one second and gone the next. I think-” you sighed, your own brows knitting together. “I think she might have left me.”

Leon’s grip tightened on you, his expression hardening until it looked like stone. He glared daggers into the water that you were just beginning to realize had washed away. 

“Leon?”

His gaze found yours, expression softening ever so slightly.

“When we find her…” he trailed off. Though there wasn’t an obvious threat in his tone, you could still sense his distrust. There was a hardened edge to his voice, as if he were angry with something. As he stared off against the side of the sub, you cleared your throat, uttering his name once again.

“Hmm?”

“The water’s washed away,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the damp metallic flooring. Leon simply hummed again, hesitating in the moment with his arm still tight around your waist. It may have been the solid throbbing in the back of your head, or the fact that you’d literally just run away from a swarm of demonic rats, but it felt as though the energy changed between you. It grew thicker, more charged with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

After another beat, Leon finally muttered a warning, and you dropped your arms around his neck again as he let go of the bar above, landing steady on the ground beneath you. His arm slipped from your waist, his free hand reaching up to brace each of your arms as you swayed. 

In that moment you felt his breath against your cheeks again, sending a warm shudder down your spine. Glancing up, you were met with his intent stare, the shocking blue of his eyes glowing bright even in the dim, flashing red of the room. His gaze drew you in, and you didn’t realize you were leaning closer until your chests touched. 

“You okay?” he breathed, low and soft. His voice had an extra scratch to it, his hands tightening on your arms as yours fell to his waist. 

“Yeah-” Your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat, catching an amused glint flash in his eyes. “Yes, I’m okay. How about you, muscles?” 

Leon chuckled at your teasing, his stomach tightening as you poked at his abs. God, they were more defined than you’d been expecting, and your mouth grew a little dry.

“‘m good.” He reached up, his hand hovering over the sore spot on your forehead before brushing a few strands of hair away from the space. Your eyes fluttered shut, and in that moment, you felt his lips just barely brush across your temple. 

Cue the barrage of butterflies in your stomach.

“C’mon,” Leon took your hand, slowly breaking away from whatever embrace you’d been locked in. “Let’s go find those assholes that got us into this mess. I have some words I’d like to share.”

[deathbecomesthem]

Chapter 1 - Study Buddy | 1.6K

My So-Called Hawkins

An introduction to a MSCL Stranger Things AU. This reader is heavily inspired by Angela Chase's personality, and Eddie Munson is our Jordan Catalano. I'm taking it back to high school, where all the feelings feel so very much.

Reader's Journal Entries - Invisible and Pencil

Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson

Every day is the same, and I wonder if there’s a point. Even if there is, I’ll probably never find out what it is. I remember thinking that when I got to this age, I’d be someone. I’d understand things enough to feel like I have a place. Like, did I miss something important? I don’t cheer, I don’t act, I don’t sing, I don’t play the flute - god I can’t believe my parents let me get this far without making me do something. Be someone. 

Maybe it’s easier this way. Dad thought it was weird that I dug out his old flannel shirts from the basement last week, that I wear them to school. He thinks it’s weird that I spent my Christmas money on boots when they buy me perfectly good sneakers whenever I need them. I asked mom if I could get my nose pierced for my birthday. She laughed and shook her head. “You’re so pretty, why would you want to scar your face like that?” She has no idea. I’m not pretty. I’m boring. No one sees me. 

-

You went to the mall with Robin over the weekend. There’s not much else to do in Hawkins. Not much else to do anywhere, really. Babysitting for the Johnsons has been good for pocket change, enough to get a slice at Sbarros at least. Plus, maybe you’ll have enough for a new lipstick. You’ve been thinking about that for a while, seeing if something other than the peachy shade your mom bought you would look like on your face.

You’re staring at the mirror and considering your raisin stained lips, wondering if there’s any point in matching the worn brown and beige flannel with any makeup at all. You think of Chrissy Cunningham and her cute-as-a-button smile. How flawless she looks in that fluffy rose pink sweater she wears so often. That’s part of it, you know. The things that make the other girls look so gorgeous make you look wrong. Make you feel like crawling out of your skin. You envy Chrissy and Heather, the way they effortlessly move through the world.

You sigh and grab a handful of toilet paper, roughly wiping off as much of the lipstick as you can before heading downstairs. Your stomach is in knots, thinking about seeing Eddie this morning. Seeing him standing outside of the back entrance of JCPenney with Gareth and Jeff on Saturday afternoon felt surreal. You could feel his eyes watching you make your way back to your car with Robin’s hand in yours. 

“Who’s that?” You heard one of the other guys say. You’d waved to him, like an idiot. Like it was a normal thing to do. Eddie didn’t wave back. You heard his voice, though. 

“Uh, she’s in one of my classes.” 

He probably doesn’t even know my name, and I waved at him.

You push the memory aside and run down the stairs while saying a silent prayer that no one will be in the kitchen when you skate through it. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want the silent judgment from your parents about your chosen outfit. You just want to walk out the door, get in your car, and drive. Hurry up and get the day started so you’re closer to the end of the thing. It’s a short week, only 2 days of school with an extra long weekend. Blessed relief. You’re already planning to spend the intervening days at the Buckley house where no one seems to care if you eat the allotted portion of vegetables on your plate or dye your hair black.

“Woah, slow down there, Pumpkin.” You nearly walk straight into your father as you round the corner. In your attempt to avoid him, you catch your hip on the faux marble island. His hand steadies you.

“Shit, oh, I’m sorry.” You can feel your skin heat up, and hope he lets the slip of your tongue pass without comment. “I just don’t want to be late.”

“You won’t be late. Sit down for a minute, eat something.” His words aren’t a suggestion, so you perch yourself on the edge of one of the stools at the island and grab a banana. Your stomach flips at the thought of trying to eat it, so you stand.

“I’ll take it with me. I need to go pick up Robin.” You stand on your toes to leave a kiss on your dad’s cheek. Something you’ve done every morning for as long as you can remember. 

“I don’t understand why Robin needs you to pick her up, she lives 2 houses away. It’s a 10 minute walk to school, you don’t even need to be driving.” 

You push your feet into your boots by the back door and throw a wave back at your dad. You opt to tie the laces in the car, not letting the old man get into a groove with his chosen complaint for the morning. You’re just glad your mom left early today, her car is already out of the driveway. Maybe she has an early showing.

There’s only a hint of light in the sky when you pull your car into the Buckley’s driveway. You kill your headlights, Mrs. Buckley’s been working thirds and you don’t want to wake her up if she’s already in bed. Robin comes bounding down the stairs of her house zipping her bookbag, a piece of toast in her mouth. Her sweater is inside out.

“Your sweater is inside out,” you tell her before she even rests her full weight on the passenger’s seat.

“Oh, shit. Goddamnit. Just drive, I’ll fix it on the way.”

“Better do it quick, unless you want to give a free show to everyone heading to Hawkins High this lovely winter morning.” You tell her, throwing the unopened banana into the backseat of your car where it will inevitably be forgotten until it’s rotten and mushy.

Robin’s arms flail while she makes muffled annoyed sounds. You hear the occasional crunch of her toast while she fumbles with the sleeves of her oversized fluffy sweater. “I think I’m, shit, my earring, I think I’m gonna talk to Munson about buying some weed for this weekend.”

You grip the steering wheel tighter at his name. Robin doesn’t know about your weird fixation on Eddie. 

“What’s this weekend? Is there a party or something?” You keep your voice level while you focus on the road in front of you. Two more turns and you’ll be in the parking lot and away from this unexpected conversation topic.

“Steve’s thing. Please tell me you didn’t forget. You promised you’d come.” Robin’s pulling down the visor to fix her disheveled hair and check her lip gloss. You hadn’t forgotten, you just never actually planned on going. You secretly hoped the weekend would never come, or that Robin would decide that it would be more fun to just skip the party.

You pull into your usual spot without responding and sigh. You check yourself in your rearview mirror, surprised to see the raisin lipstick still clinging to your mouth. You flip the visor back up and turn to Robin. You see her eyes are pleading with you. 

“I didn’t forget. I guess I can go. Nobody will care if I’m there or not, though.”

“I care. I’m the only one that matters, remember?” You can’t deny her words, not when she has those big wide eyes trained to your face.

–

Eddie isn’t late today. He’s sitting in his seat when you walk through the door to your first period class. You don’t look at him, but you can feel him looking at you. You can’t breathe until you’re seated with your own eyes looking at the back of his head. The way it should be. You looking at him, not the other way around. 

“Good morning,” Mrs. O’Donnell’s usual greeting is being said before she’s even stepped both feet into the classroom. Never a wasted moment for that woman, it’s exhausting to deal with before 8:00 a.m. five days a week. “Pick a partner. I don’t want any excuses about how hard this exam is tomorrow. You can spend the entire period studying together.”

Pick a partner. Dreaded words that you hate to hear unless you’re in a class with Robin. You choose the tactic you use most often. You wait to see who everyone else chooses, you’ll be the default partner for whoever is left. The sound of desks scraping the linoleum floor floods the room as people turn to face their study buddy. It’s all you hear until -

“Do you have a partner yet?” Eddie Munson asks. It takes you a beat to realize he’s talking to you because you’re doodling on the empty sheet of paper in front of you pretending to not notice that you’re supposed to be doing something. You look up and see his dark eyes staring at you, until you remember that he’s asked you something.

“Oh, uh, no. I don’t have one.” Should I ask him to be my partner? Should I give him a shy smile and bite my lip? Should I burst into flames and turn to ash? It doesn’t matter, because Eddie takes that as an invitation. He stands up and starts moving his desk so that it faces yours. And now, there’s nowhere to hide. 

Eddie Munson is your study buddy.

[forever-rogue]

Hello there Bee, your writing for Miguel O'Hara was perfect, thank you so much for it 🫂

I was wondering if you could do one where he's so deeply in love with her but doesn't want to tell her because he's afraid of being rejected, he wants to protect her so they always go to missions together until one day she gets hurt and because he's afraid of loosing her, he finally tells her how he's been feeling for a long time

Thank you so much c:

AN | It’s been a minute but here we are with some more grumpy x sunshine! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Nondescript mentions of violence, Language

Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Inhale. Exhale.

That's what you kept repeating to yourself as you approached the front doors to the Spider Headquarters. Your heart beat around your chest but you tried to push away all your worries and insecurities.

Well - the one major worry you had anyway. Most things didn't scare you anymore, you were well past that point in your life. It was one singular person that made you nervous. Miguel O'Hara. 

The man that appeared to hate you more than anything or anyone else. You weren't even sure what you had done to bring on the hatred but it had appeared slowly at first and then all at once. Now you just tried to avoid him as much as you could, but in the event that you were faced with him, you tried to be as kind as possible. There was no reason to be mean, right? You hoped that one day Miguel might get that memo as well.

When you got inside, you looked around and tried to see if anything seemed out of place or…if there was some sort of chaos. But it all seemed utterly normal so you walked towards your little desk area. 

"Hey there!" You startled at the sound of Peter's bright and happy voice, spinning around in your chair to find him watching you with an overly cheery smile, "how're you today?"

"I'm just peachy, Pete. What's going on?" The man's face flushed and you knew immediately that something was going on. He was so easy to read despite his best efforts.

"Umm…well," he waved his hands around for a moment, stammering nervous as you just stared at him, "well, I don't…your day might get worse."

"Oh?" You leaned back in your chair as you raised an eyebrow at him, "and just why is that? What do you know that I don't?"

"You're supposed to be partnered with…Miguel today," he said it so quickly that you almost didn't catch it. But the name stood out so clearly that you were immediately able to figure out what was going on, "just so you know, you know?"

"How do you know that?"

"Word spreads fast around here," he volunteered lamely, as you sighed at him, "and ugh, it might be my fault."

"What?!" He was afraid of exactly this reaction and flinched slightly, "Peter - why?"

"I have to be home today," he cleared his throat, "big family thing with MJ and Mayday. So…you know."

"Fine," you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, "fine. Only because I love your wife and daughter as much if not more than you."

"I am so sorry," he grimaced, "I'll make it up to you somehow."

"It's…it's fine," you swallowed the lump in your throat. It did suck…but you'd live and would just be as kind as usual. And it would be over before you knew it, "this is going to be…fantastic."

“Just don’t kill each other and it should all be fine,” Peter kept taking a few steps back, creating a further distance between the two of you, “and then we can all resume our normal programming next week!”

“I don’t hate him,” your voice softened as a frown tugged down the corners of your mouth. You truly didn’t hate him and you hated the idea that people would think you did. You always tried to treat everyone with the same kindness and you were known for being a ray of sunshine, “I think… I think he might hate me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Peter shrugged slightly as you sighed lightly, “he’s just that way with everyone. He’s a huge douche, you know that.”

“As much as I appreciate your opinions Parker,” both of you froze at the sound of his voice. He sounded just as annoyed and frustrated as ever, “I believe you were supposed to leave already to get back to your wife and daughter, no?”

“Uhh, yup…that’s…gotta go!” he looked between the two of you before offering you a small grimace and turning to basically sprint away. You bit the inside of your cheek before turning your attention to the man in question. 

“Miguel, I-”

“Get suited up,” he didn’t even spare you an actual glance. He merely caught your eye before turning around to leave again, “we’re leaving in twenty. We’ve got a job to do.”

“Miguel.”

“Don’t be late,” he was already walking away again and all you could do was sigh, “or I will leave with you.”

Yeah, okay, cool, cool, cool. This apparently was going to be the absolute worst; part of you was almost tempted to be late just so you wouldn’t have to go. You weren’t feeling very welcome but at the same time, your duties were important and you weren’t about to let him go alone. 

“Well then,” you attempted to psych yourself up, “let’s do this…and get it over with.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Miguel had been silent, to the point of it being almost eerie, besides giving you some instructions and directions. You'd tried to make some small talk at the start but the only responses you received were grunts or scoffs. It had definitely deflated your mood and after a while you gave up and remained silent.

"Hey," Miguel waved his hand in front of your face as you snapped back into attention. You hadn't realized you'd spaced out so much, "are you even paying attention?"

"Y-yeah…yes," you offered him a tight smile as he hung his head with a heavy sigh, "sorry. Could you just run that by me again?"

"I need you to focus," he caught your eye and there was a dangerous glint to him that caused you to swallow thickly, "otherwise I'll send you right back and this is the last time you'll get to go on a mission."

"That's not fair!" You hadn't meant to sound like a petulant child, but at least you hadn't also stomped your foot. His jaw twitched as he glared at you, "you've never said that to anyone-"

"Morales."

"He's a child," you ran a hand through your hair in exasperation, "this isn't fair, Miguel and you know that. Why do you hate me so much?"

If you'd been looking at his face you'd have noticed the way his face fell momentarily. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control the squeaking and stop the tears that threatened to well up.

"You're also so mean to me!" Alright. Maybe you were already sounding hysterical but it was a lot of emotions at once, "its always me! I try to be nice, Miguel. I don't like not being nice, it's just…not in my nature. But you make it so hard. A-and I'm not asking for anything spectacular, just a hello once a while or at least don't totally ignore me when I'm talking to you!"

“Are you finished?” his tone was the same as it always was: cold and calm and calculated. You tried to blink away the burning of your eyes. 

“No,” you put your hands on your hips and stared him down, “if you’re going to be mean to me or act like I’m the worst thing in the world, can you at least tell me what I did to offend you so much? I mean - why even have me working with you and the rest of the team if you don’t trust me or think I’m worthy of being here! If I’m such a horrible person, just cut me loose and let me go so you never have to see me again!”

By the time you were done, angry tears had run down your cheeks which you hastily brushed away. You felt like you had just put your heart and feelings on the line and he didn’t seem phased. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow before sighing heavily, “if you’re done, we’ve got some bad guys to catch.”

“Y-you’re not even going to say anything to what I just said?” your lip trembled with effort not to cry further. He’d already turned his back to you and started to walk away. Only this time, you didn’t run after him to catch up, “fine! You know what? I quit! Do this yourself!”

You didn’t even wait for a response before turning on your heel and walking in the other direction. You were already out of sight by the time Miguel turned around and realized that you’d been serious. He ran a hand over his face in exasperation before stomping after you, muttering under his breath. He hadn’t wanted this at all; especially because this meant that he couldn’t keep any eye on you.

“Hey!” you’d been walking around for a bit when you finally heard the angry voice. Your shoulders stiffened when you realized that Miguel had found you. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of falling back to him, you kept walking with your head held high. But then you felt a harsh hand wrap your bicep and pull you back. 

“What the f-”

“Finally,” oh. That voice definitely wasn’t Miguel. You slowly turned around and found yourself with…well, the bad guy. He looked at you with a wicked smile that caused goosebumps to well up all over your skin, “I’ve been looking for you, little Spider. Only I was hoping you’d be with that big, dumb guy.”

“Listen buddy,” you tried to pull out of his iron grasp to no avail, “I’m already having a shitty day and I don’t need you making it worse. The big dumb guy isn’t around, it’s just me unfortunately. And I recommend you let me go before I make you regret your decision.”

“You’re so funny,” he leaned closer so he was almost face to face with you. He smelled terrible and looked even worse; the worst realization of all was that he was a murderer…and you were alone with him, “you really think you could stop me all by yourself? So cute.”

He reached out and ran his hand along your jaw, instantly making you feel disgusting and gross. Your heart started beating rapidly and you willed yourself to regain your muster and strength. It should have been so easy to overpower him, but he was surprisingly strong. That was one of the worst things about dealing with other powered beings…someone always had the upper hand. 

“Let me go,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t we make a deal?” he took your jaw harshly in his hand turned your face to his, “help me catch Miguel O’Hara and I’ll let you go.”

“Nope,” you might not have been in the Miguel fanclub at this point but you weren’t about to betray him or put anyone else at risk. You figured that the longer you were able to stall, it might give Miguel more time to get to you and take him. You’d never hear the end of it, but it was better than nothing, “sorry buddy.”

“Bitch!” he let go and pushed you back before striking you across the face, causing you to stumble and trip over your feet. You feel onto your backside with a groan before touching your stinging face, “it could have been so easy! We both want the same thing - to get rid of the Spider!”

“I don’t want to get rid of him,” you tried to scramble to your feet as he loomed over you but your hope was quickly starting to dissipate, “he-he’s fine! The only person I want to get rid of you is you!”

“Too bad,” he cackled before shrugging his shoulders, “I hate to break the news to you, but you’re not getting rid of me. I’ll be getting rid of you…and eventually that big idiot will come looking for you and then I’ll have him too. A two or one deal - can you imagine? What a dream!”

“Hate to break it to you,” your hands before getting scraped up as you tried to pull yourself out of his reach, “but he’s not going to come looking for me. He doesn’t care that much.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” you couldn’t hold back the scream that escaped your lips as he stepped on your ankle and crushed it under his boot, “you’re a pretty face, that’s enough for most men to come running. It’s almost a shame to kill you but-”

The next thing you heard was a sickening crack before the pressure on your ankle was gone. You opened your eyes and looked around the alley, only to find your would-be murderer on the ground and bleeding. A choked up sound escaped your lips as you looked up to find Miguel standing over you.

You prepared yourself for him to begin yelling but, to your immense surprise, it never came. Instead you watched dumbly as he bent down and scooped into your arms and stood back up with you clutched to his chest.

He studied you for a moment before tenderly wiping away the little bit of blood that had trickled down from the corner of your mouth. You had never realized that he could actually have such a gente touch. 

For a few moments he walked in silence before letting a heavy sigh and shaking his head, “I don’t hate you. I never did.”

Your brow furrowed in surprise but you remained silent. Your head felt foggy and you weren’t sure you wanted to push anything just yet. All you wanted to do was go home and get some rest. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days had passed since the incident with Miguel and you felt well recovered, except for the faint bruising that remained on your face. Really, though, that was the least of your worries. Ever since then, you’d been trying your best to avoid Miguel, while continuing to be surprised that he hadn’t booted you from the team yet.

“Hey,” you froze at the sound of his voice and turned around to find Miguel standing at the edge of your cubicle space. You swallowed thickly before squeaking out a response that made you cringe internally, “can we talk?”

“Umm…yes?” you looked at him and waited for him to make the next move. He turned and motioned for you to follow him. It felt like some sort of walk of shame as you trailed after him like a puppy. He didn’t stop, ignoring the whispers and titters from the other Spider-People as he beelined for his office. You kept your gaze trained on your feet and almost ran into him when he suddenly stopped, “oof.”

“Sorry,” you’d never heard him apologize before. Odd. He closed the door behind and leaned against it, “listen, I think we need to clear some things up.”

“We do?”

“Mhmm,” this time he found it difficult to look in your eyes as you hopped up and sat at the edge of his desk, swinging your legs, “I just…I don’t want you to think that I hate you know or ever hated you. It’s never been like that.”

“Could have fooled me,” you shrugged slightly, already having made peace with his dislike of you. 

“I know, I…fuck,” he ran a hand over his face in exasperation, “It was supposed to be easier this way.”

“What way?”

“If you hated me,” he finally managed to get out as you blinked at him owlishly, “then it would have made it easier for him to keep my distance.”

“But I don’t hate you,” you shook your head, “I don’t hate anyone…and I could never hate you.”

“Even now?” he chuckled harshly, “when you definitely should?”

“Even now,” you confirmed you heard his small exhale of relief, “now I just…I guess I’m just confused as to how you do feel about me.”

“When you left me and I couldn’t find you and then…when you’d been hurt…I thought…” he trailed off, clearly at a loss for words. You let his words sink in and tried to process the meaning behind him, “I didn’t know what I would do if anything had happened to you. All I could think about was beating that bastard to a bloody pulp.”

“Oh,” the gears were definitely turning as you came closer and closer to your conclusion. And then it hit you all at once and your entire face turned warm. You looked over at Miguel and could see that his cheeks were a darkened pink, “oh.”

“Umm…yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck nervously before nodding slightly, “I just never know what to do or say. I-I’ve never been good with words. Keeping people at a distance makes things easier. If there’s no attachment then there’s no room or heartbreak.”

“I understand that,” you agreed softly, “but that’s no way to live.”

“I’m starting to see that,” he allowed himself to meet your eye and the two of you exchanged shy smiles, “so I guess I just wanted to say sorry.”

“Is that all you wanted to say?” you felt a little bolder now, nerves buzzing with everyone he had said and things that were left unspoken.

“No,” he agreed, “but it’s a good starting point, I think.”

“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I think so too.”

“Cool,” he ran a hand through his hair nervously, “cool. Listen, I…want to do this right. So can I umm, do you want to-”

“Yes,” you slid off the desk and almost skipped over to him, “I’d love to.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

[tothosewhoyearnforit]

serving double - minnie and miyeon

-I saw this on my way back home from my jog and I knew I had to write it so here we are ! I think I’m gonna make this a universe where all the women you interact w are rich so... stay tuned! And also cuz I had a bunch of other ideas but I didn’t know how to link them but now that this is here, I can finally write more smuts. 

-threesome, anal, breeding, facial

-word count: 1831

-male reader x miyeon and minnie

“Yah! Keep up! You’re far too slow.” 

I’m trying, you say to yourself. If only either one of the two women turned back to see that you were struggling with the numerous shopping bags filled with branded luxury goods; Gucci, Louis Vuitton, some brands you never even knew existed but were sure cost more money than you could fork out with a month’s worth of your salary. 

But you really weren’t one to complain.

After all…

Both Minnie and Miyeon were paying off your services in more than just cash.

.

.

.

As soon as you drop the mountain of shopping bags back in the hotel room, the two of them are all over you, pinning you down into the large king sized bed. They’re like vultures. Ripping away at your clothes to reveal your vulnerable peachy skin, before their mouths are on your skin, leaving bite marks and faint stains of their expensive lipstick on your abs, your neck, your nipples, your ears. Everywhere. 

Minnie gets up to take off her clothes and tosses them in some corner of the hotel room while Miyeon’s lips meet with yours, her tongue finding contact with yours as you start peeling off her clothing. Soon, all three of you are stark naked on the bed, Miyeon on your left and Minnie on your right. A passionate makeout session ensues, as you wrap your arms around the two drop dead gorgeous ladies, feeling your way around the geometrically perfect curves and welcoming their tongues into your mouth. 

“Time for the appetizer, baby boy.” Minnie says in her expensive, lustrous voice, as they both move their heads down to your raging boner but shifting their butts to face you, creating the eighth Natural Wonder of the World. Their plump buttcheeks, both reasonably voluptuous, just warrant a smack from both your hands.

Smack!

As if on signal, the two women start working on your cock, with Minnie giving gentle kisses starting from the head and Miyeon doing the same from the base of your cock. Their gentle breath blowing against your balls as they work their magic on your cock causes it to twitch. Their heads then both hover above your phallus as they engage in another kiss, this time letting their saliva drip off their chins messily and onto your cock. Minnie then uses her slender fingers decorated in bone white nail polish to rub in the saliva concoction. Once lubricated enough, she takes your length in your mouth, slowly working her way to half your length. She pauses there to compose herself, before going all the way down, her lips coming into contact with your pelvis as your cock hits the back of her throat. A moan escapes from your mouth. Miyeon on the other hand, is working on giving your balls a nice oral massage, coating each ball sack in her spit. 

After a while, the two girls rotate their bodies, both their eyes now gazing intently into yours with a certain hunger. Miyeon and Minnie then switch roles. This time, Miyeon gets into a doggy style position facing you. Minnie sees this as an invitation to get behind her and work her mouth magic on Miyeon, causing her to moan. The sight before you is truly one to behold. Miyeon’s innocent doe eyes look at you warmly while Minnie’s head is buried within her butt.  The vibrations of her vocal chords from her moans send a tingling sensation throughout your nerves as you throw your head back in pleasure. This continues as she bobs her head up and down, precum and spit starting to coat her mouth. Soon, you feel your cock start to twitch and you tap out. Miyeon releases your cock from her heavenly mouth. 

“Kneel.” 

Diligently, the two girls get down onto their knees on the floor as you stand up. You bunch both their hair into makeshift ponytails and take turns facefucking the two of them. Three thrusts into Miyeon. Pull out. Three thrusts into Minnie. Pull out. You don’t care if they gag, you’re too drunk in fulfilling your own carnal desires, but they probably don’t care either. It doesn’t take long before your cock sends another signal of its climax. Pulling out of Minnie’s, or was it Miyeon’s? Doesn’t matter. You pull out from either of their mouths and they both place their faces together while you stroke your spit covered cock, pointing at their faces. After a few strokes, streams of your cum erupt out of your cock. Minnie’s mole under her right eye is covered and gradually her picture perfect face is. You direct it to Miyeon’s innocent doe face and let out the rest of your fluid, painting it in your unholy white paint. The two then lick the remnants of your markings off of each other's faces. It’s like a performance, a really sensual one at that.

“Our turns next.” Miyeon says, her voice intoxicated with lust.

You climb onto the bed and the two vixen follow suit, crawling at you like panthers. Minnie positions herself in the cowgirl position on your cock and lowers yourself onto your cock. Her doing that is the last thing you see before Miyeon sits on your face facing her female counterpart, your mouth now right below her pussy while your eyes only able to see her gaping asshole right in front of you, its lewd scent clouding out the smell of the hotel room that you three were in. Instinctively knowing what to do, you stick your tongue into the caverns of her nether region, while taking in the sight and smell of her glorious asshole. 

“Ahhh…Shit, your warm breath… blowing against my exposed asshole is turning me on even more!” 

Bringing both your hands up, you spread her buttcheeks apart, allowing your tongue to go further into her cunt and also allowing more of her lewd ass scent to escape into your smell receptors. 

“Shit! Just like that.”, Miyeon cries out, while the sound of Minnie’s butt slapping against your skin can now be heard.

“Your cock is fucking huge. I don’t want any other cock but yours boytoy.” 

Wanting to overstimulate Miyeon, you start eating her out even faster, your tongue exploring deeper into her caverns. In response, she moans and clamps your head with her thick thighs and sits all the way down, blocking out all access to air that your lungs have. But you really don’t mind it. It was a fucking glorious way to go out, your head in between the beautiful honey thighs of a princess that clearly worked hard to maintain their skin complexion while a Thai princess is riding you out, your dick getting constricted by the folds of her cunt. Just as your head starts to go queasy because of the lack of oxygen, Miyeon’s hips buckle as she screams out and cums, her squirt coating your mouth. 

“Fuckk that was insane…”

She collapses onto the side, both you and her panting furiously. 

Now, you can focus on Minnie for a while. One powerful thrust upward into her is all it takes for her to lose her stability as she screams out and collapses into the crook of your neck, her dark blue-black locks of hair draping over your face. 

She’s all mine, you think to yourself. 

Your mind is overridden by lust as you wrap your arms around her back and hug onto her body tightly, thrusting your length into her furiously. 

Placing your mouth at her ear, you growl into it, “You’re my fucking cocksleeve you slut.”

“AHHH…FUCK….I’m your fucking…cocksleeve”, she repeats. 

All mine. And I’m going to leave my mark inside her to prove it.

“Fuck…Fuckk…FUCKK….” she screams out one last time, before her pussy walls melt around your cock and a stream of squirt sprays all over your body below her. The sudden tightening of her pussy catches you off guard and your cum gets wrung out from your cock. 

“Shit…Your cunt suddenly got so tight that I came so much Minnie.” 

The beauty slumps over to the side, her mind a haze as she replies to you. 

“Really?…ha…That’s good…I’m your…cocksleeve, just like you said…”

“I hope you still have cum for me baby boy.”, Miyeon is now up, her vigor restored as she licks her lips. She inches towards you and whispers into your ear, “I’m going to wring Every. Last. Drop. of cum you have within you.”

The string of words turns you on even more and your cock, despite going for two rounds, feels perfectly fine once more. You grab Miyeon’s delicate frame and toss her onto her belly, preparing to ravage her pussy with your shovel, before you get stopped by her.

“I want it in my ass now. You were playing with it so much before, so why not fuck my ass?”

You smile at her. This woman knows me so well.

Miyeon gets into a doggy style while you coat your dick in lube, then coat your middle finger. With the lubed up finger, you slide it as far as it goes into her puckered up asshole, earning a moan from her. 

“Fuck! My asshole is going to get destroyed today.”

After testing how tight her asshole was, you slowly load your dick into it. 

“It’s so damn tight, Miyeon.”

“FUCK! I know it is, baby boy. You’re taking my anal virginity.”

Can’t let the first time go to waste can I?

With one thrust, your entire length goes in. Miyeon loses stability in her hands as she collapses into the king sized bed, screaming out for the nth time today. It’s only now you recognise the beauty of her sweaty back. The essence of sex coating her smooth skin in a shiny layer.

Miyeon snaps you out of your momentary delusions, “Ya! Nobody told you to stop! Continue!”

Once more a slave to her every word, you resume thrusting into her again. 

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

You lean forward now, changing your angle for deeper penetration. You tuck her dark locks of hair behind her ear and say: 

“I’m about to cum again, Miyeon!” 

“Ahh.. Ah… Ah…Me too!” she replies in between thrusts. 

With one final deep thrust of your hips, you send your cock as far down her asshole as you possibly can, rearranging her guts inside and planting your seed deep within Miyeon. Miyeon’s pussy explodes with her love juices as her body goes limp onto the bed, completely spent by your relentless use of her sacred virgin butthole, which is now gaping wide open, cum flowing out and staining the bedsheets.

Finally resuming your role as the “caretaker” of the two women, you tuck both their nude bodies into the bed, leaving a space in the middle between them for you to climb into. You just know that in the morning before you leave, you’re going to be greeted by their cock hungry faces once more.

[sunnybeewriting]

peachy keen. Part Two

Wow! Thank you all so, so much for all the likes and comments on last chapter, I was blown away! Every time I get a notification that someone liked or commented on something I’ve written I get giddy, so thank you! And I read everyone's comments and they were all so sweet!

Someone actually posted fanart of peachy keen!! I nearly died when I saw it, so thank you again to @desertrose244 for making that, it’s wonderful. And I’m sorry this chapter took so long, classes got me all kinds of messed up. So without further wait, peachy keen. Part Two!

peachy keen. Part One

WORDS: 9,000

WARNINGS: Adult themes and language

“Bitch, you better wake the fuck up right now.”

A hand whacks you on the back of your head firmly and you are jerked right out of your hazy sleep state. You let out an embarrassing snort as your head lurches up from its position of laying on your arms crossed over the table.

Your eyes squint tiredly against the bright light of the room. For a brief moment, your fuzzy mind struggles to remember where you are, until you realize that you’re still sitting in the break room.

“The time?” you slur out as you straighten your back in the chair. You lean backward, arms stretching out above your head, and strong relief fills you as several pops resound in different places. You groan loudly at the feeling, and blood rushes back into your body parts as you shift them. Hunching over in a chair for a half hour to try and get as much rest as you could had not been a good idea.

The sharp scent of something chemical makes you wrinkle your nose, and you look over to your left to see where the odor is coming from.

Margot sits beside you, humming softly and painting her nails a pretty light pink color. The little bottle of nail polish she is using cost her a lot of money to buy from the supply shop, given that nail polish was a rare find in Bridgehead. Granted, it wasn’t like there were a lot of military personnel or scientists who were fist-fighting over nail polish, but still. Margot had insisted it was completely worth the price, although you had definitely seen her lip wobble when she had looked at the dent in her wallet.

Margot had lasted almost two months before whining about missing her pretty nails, and the next day she caved and forked over the big bucks to get the tiny little bottle. Now, she likes to joke that it’s her most prized position (it wasn’t really a joke).

You yawn, then press your lips together as your right hand rubs at your eyes to help wake yourself up.

“What’s the time, Margot? Why did you even wake me up?” your tone is almost a whine as you question your friend, ready to throw a fit if she says she only woke you up because she was bored.

Luckily for Margot’s physical safety, she has a fairly good excuse.

“We’ve got that meeting with the new team leader, Amanda What-the-fuck-ever, in ten minutes.” Margot rolls her eyes as she carefully paints a strip of polish on her left index finger, tongue sticking out in concentration.

You snort softly at Margot’s clear disrespect toward a woman neither of you had even met, but you couldn’t really blame her. Your own feelings about this mystery lady were mixed as well.

Two months into being in Bridgehead, Amanda Hall was assigned as the field team leader of the new Avatar Program by the RDA. Her job is essentially to connect the members of the program to the important people in the company. She is the one to handle any concerns within the group, any issues with military personnel, any special reports about discoveries on Pandora, shit like that.

She also apparently did data work, collected samples, and would go out into the field with your team whenever the RDA finally chose for that to happen.

All that would be fine and dandy if it weren’t for the gossip from the other Avatar team, who told Margot that this lady was essentially here to report all matters of the program and its members to the RDA. Every slip-up, every boo-boo, every time someone sneezed out of turn, she would be mentioning it to the same higher-ups who would be deciding whether to disband the program or not.

This was very unpleasant news to all of you, given that your entire purpose on Pandora is to be an Avatar. The program was already in a precarious position, being that it was still in the testing stages. If it got disbanded because of whatever Miss Hall said, you’d all be completely fucked.

So yeah, none of you were exactly fond of her, too worried that she might very well ruin your lives.

Margot blows on her finished nail, holding it up closer to her face for careful inspection. Once she’s satisfied, she carefully screws the lid of the nail polish shut and gently places it into the right pocket of her light blue windbreaker.

She rises from her seat to check her reflection in a small, circular mirror on the grey wall of the break room, fixing her hair and smoothing down her clothes.

You watch her, not even bothering to do anything to fix up your own appearance. You’re certain your hair is slightly mussed and your clothes are wrinkled, but you’re beyond too tired to really give a shit.

You hadn’t slept well the past two days, too concerned about the rumors of Miss Hall. You have no idea what you would even do if the program went tits up, no idea what would happen to you or your friends.

Would you be shipped back to Earth, as if you were an unwanted toy the RDA no longer wanted to play with? Would you be forced to remain in miserable Bridgehead, doing nothing but look at samples for the rest of your life? As a xenobotanist who thrives on nature and color and unique things, that would be one of the worst things you could ever think of happening to you.

All the terrifying possibilities swirled around your head, digging so deeply into your brain that you were beginning to dream about it.

So yeah, you were stressed and unable to sleep, which made you exhausted and anxious. These past few days had been nothing but a vicious circle of misery for you.

Margot’s hands pause as they fluff up her hair, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. You stare back at her, too spent to even muster up a fake smile.

She turns away from her reflection, walking over to your slouched form and taking your hands in hers. You stare up at her with watery eyes, and she squeezes your hands tightly and says,

“Oh, honey. You don’t have to be so worried about it, it’ll be okay. The RDA spent billions on our Avatars, they’re not going to throw them away so easily, alright?”

You nod shakily, deep down knowing that she was probably right. Still, it was hard to shake the fear from your heart, the cruel little whispers of ‘but what if?’ refusing to let go.

It wouldn’t even be failing to reach a lifelong goal that would bother you so much, wouldn’t even be the years of school and training and sleepless nights that would all have been for nothing if the program was discontinued.

It would be failing to keep the promise you had made to your mother as she lay on her death bed that would be the worst of it.

Oh, your sweet, vicious mother. Once so kind and caring toward you as a child, she turned spiteful once her mind and body began to weaken. Bitterness and regret seeped into her heart and turned it as dead and cold as her husband, and the name-calling, the pinching, and the ugly insults began by the time she was confined to her hospital bed.

For five years you stuck by her side through it all, through the malice and the failed treatments and deterioration. You stayed by her side even when your aunt on your father’s side offered to take you away, because she was your mother, and you would love her always. Even on the bad days when she couldn’t even remember who you were, you stayed with her.

Through all the nastiness and difficulty, your mother’s true person would shine through sometimes, like when she told you about your father, when she made you promise to follow your heart and never let anyone or anything get in the way of your dreams. Those were the moments you stayed for.

And so, even the mere thought of letting her or yourself down, of failing to keep your promise, scared you to death.  

You shake your head, pushing the ugly thoughts back into your mind so you could focus on kind, lovely Margot.

It’ll be okay. You’ll see.

You swallow thickly, squeezing Margot’s hand tightly in your own.

“I know, Margot, I’m okay. I just need a little time to adjust, that’s all,” you smile shakily at her, and she looks at you, eyebrows furrowing with concern even as she smiles back.

“Right. Right, honey,” she tears her eyes away from you to glance at the clock, eyes widening when she sees the time, “Oh shit, sugar! We gotta go!”

Margot pulls you up from your chair by the hands she was still holding, and you sway dizzily as blood rushes back into your head. You barely have time to pull on the tennis shoes you had kicked off underneath the table before she’s tugging on your hand and you’re out the door.

“Margot, slow down!” you laugh quietly as you almost trip over the shoes not quite pulled over your feet correctly, and it feels so, so good to laugh again, even if it is just slightly. You hadn’t realized it’s been days since you felt genuinely well.  

Margot glances back at you, grins, and picks up her pace. Before you know it, you’ve reached the conference room, and you drop Margot’s hand and kneel to fix your shoes properly. Then you finally find the motivation to put your hair into a ponytail, straighten your clothes, and take a few breaths to calm your nerves.

Once you are ready you nod at Margot, and she nods back before opening the glass door to the room.

Inside is a long, metal table surrounded by ten chairs, along with an enormous whiteboard, several holotablets, and other various fancy-looing equipment.

David is already sitting in a chair closest to the door, posture straight as he reads from a tablet. He looks up eagerly when he hears the door open, and his overwhelmingly saccharine sweet smile drops fast from his lips when he sees that it’s just you and Margot. He scowls deeply, rolls his eyes, and points to his wristwatch like the little prick he is.

You resist the urge to childish stick your tongue out at him, but only just.

Probably got here an hour early, the teacher’s pet. What a weirdo.

You and Margot reluctantly take seats across from him at the table. It had been very tempting to sit all the way in the back of the room, as far away from David as possible, but that definitely wouldn’t have been seen as very professional by your new team leader. And, god help you, you did want to make a good first impression.

Hopefully that doesn’t make me as much of an ass-kisser as David.

You turn to look at him just as he takes a pocket mirror out of his pants, checks his reflection, and then positions himself in his chair so he’s the first one Miss Hall will see when she walks into the room.

Yeah, nope. Jesus Christ, David.

Barely a minute passes before Emma and James walk just in time, giggling quietly and blushing. They take a seat across from one another, James sitting by you and Emma sitting by David. They grin across the table, clearly amused about some private joke only they know.

It’s so cute, but it also kind of makes me want to puke.

You tear your eyes away from them in hopes that no longer looking at such sweet affection will help your stomach settle. They were awfully charming, but also gross if you looked at them too long.

You know, I wonder if employee relations are something Miss Hall will report to the higher-ups?

You turn to tell Emma and James they should probably keep their affections discreet whilst in the company of Miss Hall from now on. Just as you open your mouth to speak, the woman in question finally walks through the door.

The first thing you notice about her is her hair, bright red and pinned up into a smooth bun. She’s a tall, slender, strict-looking woman with young features, and while she does look stern, she also has a small smile on her lips as she looks around the table and introduces herself,

“Hello, everyone. My name is Amanda Hall, I’m the new Avatar Program team leader, which means that I will be overseeing any concerns you have and guiding you through our travels in Pandora. From here on out, if you need something or would like to speak to the RDA, you will do so through me and me alone. Do you have any questions?”

Your lips thin but you shake your head, and all members of your group rise from their seats to shake her hand in greeting, all smiling as pleasantly as they can. You notice that David is the first in line to introduce himself, and he eagerly shakes her hand and lists off all of his titles when he tells her his name.

Ew.

You’re worried your small smile might look more like a grimace than anything else when it’s your turn to greet her, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she slips her cool, smooth hand into yours. She looks at you, and her smile doesn’t seem to reach her eyes as she says,

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor…?”

Miss Hall trails off and you tell her your name. She nods her head in understanding and then shakes your hand in three perfunctory pumps before releasing you.

The next two hour is almost mind-numbing as Miss Hall talks about her new role in the science division, what she expects from you, all other mundane things that almost bore you to tears. Just as sound becomes muted in your ears and your vision begins to blur as you drone out, Miss Hall mentions something that quickly snaps your attention back to her.

“…and so, your group will be cleared for field-work within the next week or so, and you’ll be able to begin your jobs at Bridgehead in earnest, as well as-”

You gasp, “They’re finally letting us out?! In the next week?”

Miss Hall looks startled as she says, “Oh, well, yes, in the next week or so. Given that it’s been almost two months since you arrived, it’s about time you are able to do what you came here to.”

You slump back into your seat, mouth open in shock and joy. Your thoughts run wild as you realize that in a week's time, you will be in the wilds of Pandora, actually able to touch and observe and collect alien plant life. You’ve been waiting for this exact moment for years.

I can’t fucking wait!

Miss Hall smiles slightly when she sees your stunned face and then goes on to talk about her education. You don’t even bother trying to listen, simply too busy thinking to pay attention. By the time the meeting is over, you mindless shake her hand again and walk out the door with Emma, James, and Margot.

David had neglected to leave with you, staying behind to spend a few more minutes speaking with Miss Hall.

Better her than us. He’s probably sucking up for a promotion or some shit.

As you all wander back to the break room in a daze, you realize that you aren’t the only one stunned by Miss Hall’s announcement. All three of your friends look pale and glassy-eyed, and poor Emma is destroying her fingernails as she picks at them while biting her lip anxiously.

Since Pandora is a dream come true for you, it’s always been difficult for you to remember that it’s not a safe place, not an easy walk in the park, and that you could die out there. You just get so lost in your own head, so busy thinking about all the scientific possibilities that you forget the danger that may be lurking. Your one-track mind is a dangerous flaw of yours, and you hope it doesn’t get you killed someday.

Once you all reach the room and sit down, everyone has some color back in their cheeks, and James has grabbed one of Emma’s hands to stop her from hurting herself. You sit in silence for a moment before Margot breaks it,  

“I still don’t like her,” she huffs, arms crossed over her chest as she practically pouts in her chair.

You roll your eyes, having seen that coming from a mile away. Ah, classic Margot. Once she made up her mind about someone or something, it was incredibly difficult to get her to change her opinion.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Emma says quietly. Over the past month since your group really came together, Emma had opened up more and more until she was able to hold full conversations without freezing. You had once thought that her dreary attitude was because she was an unhappy person, but it turns out she’s just painfully shy.

James certainly helped with bringing her out of her shell; his caring attitude and cheerfulness are good for her.

You take a deep breath and agree with Emma, surprising yourself when you say the words aloud,

“You know, I don’t think having her as a team leader will be as bad as I thought. I think she’ll help our team more than hurt it, but we should still be careful with what we say and do around her for the next few months, just in case.”

Margot sighs but nods, uncrossing her arms from her chest.

“Yeah, okay, that’s probably for the best. I guess she didn’t seem that bad. She had pretty hair,” she mumbles the last part, and to your utter bewilderment, Margot tucks her hair behind her ear and actually blushes.

You gawk at her; it was incredibly rare for Margot to turn red, and it usually only happened when she was extremely angry or embarrassed. She hadn’t even blushed when she got super drunk at the bar downtown, took off her top, and climbed up on a table to dance around. Well, she tried to dance, but the only thing she succeeded in doing was falling off the table and throwing food and drinks everywhere.

You had tried to get her top back on and get her off the table but were fairly drunk yourself, and you failed terribly. When she went flying off the table, she kneed you right in the face, and you had to walk around with a black eye for two weeks.

Yeah, defiantly not either of our best moments.

But even when you had told her about it the next morning, hungover and miserable, she still hadn’t tinged red even a little bit at the fact that she’d shown her tits to an entire bar full of people. She had just waved her hand indifferently and asked if you got any good pictures.

So, it was defiantly bizarre to see her blush now for seemingly no reason.

Huh.

Margot catches you gaping at her and blushes even more before clearing her throat and turning her attention on you. She smirks mercilessly, eyes gleaming, and says,

“You know, I was surprised you even gave her your real name, I was half expecting you to tell her to call you Peach.”

Now it’s your turn to burn scarlet, and you shrink back into your seat with a flustered, “Margot!”

She laughs at your squeaky reaction before saying, “What? I’m just saying, Colonel Quaritch is always calling you that, and I’ve never heard you tell him to stop, soooo.” She wiggles her eyebrows and jams a sharp elbow into your ribs.

You wince, one hand reaching up to grasp where she hit you as you say, “Uh, yeah, I’m not going to Quaritch of all people what he can and cannot say, and you wouldn’t either. He could call me much worse names, so I’ll take Peach any day, thank you.”

“And I can’t believe you’re still going on about this!” you scoff, annoyance tinging your voice.

“Oh, come on! You guys spend so much time together-”

“Yeah, for lessons. During which he knocks me around for a few hours, so yeah, I can certainly say that we are, at best, acquaintances.”

“But you have such good chemistry-”

“Ha! Margot, you and David have more chemistry than Quaritch and I.”

Margot blanches and leans away from you, disgusted at the thought of such a thing, “I can’t believe you would even say something so horrid!”

“Well, it’s true!”

Margot lunges from her chair, jabbing an accusing finger in your face as you lean back, “Lies! I know for sure that you want to do the hanky-panky with him!”

You shake your head, amusement bubbling up in your gut and making you laugh as you say, “Hanky-panky? Are you fucking eighty years old, what’s the matter with you?”

To both your utter delight and disgust, Margot rolls her hips in a way she must think is provocative, but it mostly looks like something in her body is broken and she’s struggling to stand upright.

You burst out laughing and shout, “Jesus Christ Margot, what the hell are you doing?”

“Come on, I know this what you want to do with Quaritch-”

“What, roll my hips in a way that makes it seem like my spine is shattered to get him to sleep with me?”

Margot falters and stops wiggling around to say, “Is that really what I look like?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, okay, fine!”

She sits back in her chair with a pout but leans forward, and her green eyes bore into yours, “But my point still stands. You know, you’re starting to be like those little ducklings you had talked about seeing him with that first time, always following him around.”

You groan, “Ugh, Margot. You know what, I’m not even going to worry about it anymore. If you want to be lost in your delusions, you do that. I’m going to go to bed because I actually have something important to do in the morning.”

You pat your thighs and stand from your chair as Margot boos and shouts, “You grandma!”

“Goodnight, Margot,” you say, still absolutely tickled at Margot’s ability to bullshit even herself. You pat her on the shoulder as you walk past her to the door, and she smacks you on the ass and says, “Night, bitch.”

You barely remember to say goodnight to Emma and James, whom you had honestly forgotten were still even in the room.

They jumped slightly when you called out to them, having seemingly forgotten you and Margot’s presence as well, even with the way you had been so loud.

You shake your head fondly as they guiltily say goodnight, and you’re out the door.

You spend the journey back to your quarters thinking about the past month you’ve spent with Quaritch.

Your relationship with him, if you can even call it that, has grown from distant to something more of an…understanding. A mutually beneficial, symbiotic agreement. He’s still a massive prick, always poking and jabbing nastily, always quick to make fun.

He's still likely to smother you in your sleep if you do or say something bad enough, but he isn’t as terrifying as he was when you first met, that’s for certain.

You’re not sure if it’s simply the result of spending four hours every damn day for a whole month in his company, or if he chose to be less frightening on purpose. Either way, that all-consuming terror you felt in the first week of meeting him has faded into faint uneasiness.

And it was hard to stay so scared of him all the time when he did almost, dare you think it, nice things.

Like that one time, just a week ago, when he had been teaching you different ways to hold your blade so you could better attack someone instead of just defending yourself.

Quaritch had stood close to you, and even through the stifling, humid heat of Pandora, you could feel the heat coming off him. His bare arm brushed against yours gently as he moved from your right side to stand in front of you, and he lifted the little knife he had given you three weeks ago.

As he had warned you to, you’d kept good care of; you didn’t want to give Quaritch any other reason to dislike you, and losing the knife he entrusted into your care would worsen his feelings toward you for sure.

So, you kept it on you whenever you were in your Avatar form, nice and safe tucked away in your right short pocket. Sometimes, whenever you were distracted, you’d find yourself stroking over the M.Q engraved on the handle, thumb roving over the groves. It was sort of comforting, in a way you couldn’t describe. You probably just liked the texture.

“Alrigh’, Peach. Your defense with this puny little thing has been adequate at best, but it's good ‘nough for now. So, we’ll be moving on toward something a little bit more fun,” he grinned unpleasantly, head tilting to the side, “your offense.”

You swallowed uneasily but nodded.

Can’t be any worse than before, right? You had naively thought.

You were really, really fucking wrong.

Five minutes in, you figured out that Quaritch is a fucking monster at defense. You’d known this to some degree, just because this was Quaritch and he’s good at everything when it comes to combat, but trying to even touch this guy with your knife was utterly impossible.

No matter how fast your feet moved, no matter how much your muscles burned, no matter how hard you tried, Quaritch is bigger and better than you’ll ever be. You could see it in the way he moved, the ease of which he ducked and weaved around your inexperienced blade. He had a smug look on his face and his lips were curled up in amusement as he played around with you like a cat with a mouse.

Someday, you might get jealous of his skill, of his ferocity in combat. Now, though, watching him just made you feel in awe.

Embarrassingly, you can’t help but think he’s stunning when he moves like that. Maybe in the future you’ll actually get to see him against a real opponent, a real warrior who knows what they’re doing. You have no doubt that Quaritch would give them hell.

You leapt at him one more time in a last-ditch attempt to cut him, and he surprised you by not immediately dodging as he had done the past few minutes. Instead, he simply stays still as you run at him.

You tried to slow down once you realized he wasn’t going to move, but it was too late. He stepped slightly toward you and stopped your body’s momentum by splaying a huge hand across your upper chest and pushing you back with barely any effort at all.

You went flying backward, ass landing hard on the ground with a grunt.

Ow!

You groaned as you struggled to stand back up and Quaritch offered no helping hand, not that you had expected him to. Instead, he crossed his bulging arms across his chest, smirked, and said, “Well. You weren’t as pathetic at offense as I thought you’d be.”

You scoffed, eventually able to stand back up and dust off the gravel that clung to the fabric that covered your ass, “I was ridiculous, I didn’t even manage to make contact.”

“Well, that’s just ‘cause you ain’t pissed enough. You gotta think of me as some sorta son of a bitch you despise, someone you hate. Really let it provoke you, feel the hate in your blood and let it guide you until you kill em’. Then you’ll be golden.”

You considered his words thoughtfully, wondering who the hell you could ever hate so much you could brutally kill them.

Quaritch sighed when he saw the questioning look on your face, one large blue hand resting on the thick belt wrapped around his slender waist. He reached up to rub at his jawline as he rolled his eyes at your naivety, and then he said, “Look, Peach, there’s gotta be someone you don’t like-”

“David!” you blurt out, remembering how irritated he’d made you the past week with his stupid little comments and snotty attitude, “I really, really fucking don’t like David. If you think I’m a priss, you’d hate David if you ever met him.”

“…Alright, David it is, then. Come on, get ready to come at me again, and this time don’t be such a pussy about it. Remember what I taught you and think about whatever it is about this poor David bastard you hate so much.” Quaritch spreads his legs into a wider stance, long arms deceptively relaxed at his sides as he waited for you to come at him.

“The guy’s a douchebag, always rambling on about how he’s better than everyone else. He’s a real stuffy, know-it-all science puke. You know, your favorite type of person.”

You flashed him a sharp-toothed grin and he smirked back, wide golden eyes grudgingly amused.

“He once told me that it would be highly unlikely that you would be able to teach me anything. I really wasn’t sure if it was a dig at your teaching skills or my intelligence. Probably both, knowing him.”

Quaritch’s eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened as he said, “…Interesting. Might have to meet this David guy some time.”

You grinned at the thought of massive, terrifying Quaritch looming over a tiny, frightened David, grinning down at him evilly. That might finally be enough to deflate David’s ego, though it was David. Who knows, he’d probably be delusional enough to think Quaritch was talking to him out of respect or some shit.

I would literally fucking pay to see that happen. Quaritch would eat him alive.

“Alright, I’m ready, let’s go again.”

You spent the next thirty minutes pathetically struggling to hit him, and you didn’t make contact even once. You came close a few times, but you never actually touched the bastard.

And thinking about how utterly irritating David was didn’t even help! As much as you disliked the guy, you really couldn’t develop enough anger to want to kill him, even if it wasn’t real.

Maybe throttle him or duct tape his mouth shut, but to kill? That wasn’t you; you just didn’t have that sort of determination or ferocity in your heart. Maybe one day, but certainly not now.

It seems Quaritch could see that because he sneered at you before sighing and coming to a stop.

“Jesus Christ, alright, this isn’t working. We gotta figure somethin’ out, ‘cause at this rate you’re just going to hurt yourself by flailin’ ‘round like that. Goddamn.”

You stopped when he did, panting, face flushed and sweaty. You winced at his words but admit defeat by nodding your head in agreement.

Quaritch propped both his hands on his hips as he considered you for a moment, eyes flicking over your body. He checked the watch on his left wrist and then said,

“Well, Peach, we only gotta few minutes left and I’m fuckin’ hungry, so let’s call it a day. I’ll see ya nice and early morning tomorrow on time, you hear me?” He gave you a look, and you internally rolled your eyes even as you nodded understandingly.

It was one time you’d been five minutes late to meeting up with him, weeks ago, and he’d never let you forget it. Tom had woken up late, so you’d had to wait to link into your Avatar. You were only a few minutes late, but Quaritch had been a grumpy little bastard about it the entire morning.  

He was fucking relentless, and now every single time at the end of the lesson, he always has to say some little thing about it, because it’s Quaritch. Why ever waste an opportunity to be a dick?

“See you tomorrow, sir.”

Quaritch gave you one last look, golden eyes stern, before turning around to head back toward the gate of the courtyard.

You watched as he went, hands distractedly reaching for the sheath of your knife so you could safely put it away.

You gazed at the thin, green fabric of his tank top that stretched taught over his broad shoulders and muscled back, eyes lowering down to take in his slender waist wrapped in his belt.

And then your eyes went lower, and you made a daring observation that shocked your world, an observation you would have never dared to even think a mere few weeks ago.

Miles Quaritch has a fantastic ass.

You blushed strongly even as your head tilted to the side, eyes locked on his camo-covered ass as he practically struts his way to the gate. Your mouth parted gently before you bit softly on your bottom lip.

I’m mean, really, he’s goddamn packing it away down there. Is there any part of him that isn’t fucking attract- mother fucker!

You yelped as stinging pain ripped through your senses, concentrated strongly on the palm of your right hand. You dropped your knife on instinct, looking down hurriedly to see what the hell was hurting so bad.

You hissed lightly, shocked, when you saw the angry, bright red cut on the upper part of your blue palm, already weeping blood profusely. Your tail flicked irritably behind you, ears lowering on the sides of your head.

No fucking way, you absolute dumbass.

You’d been so distracted with checking out Quaritch’s ass that you had accidentally cut your palm open with your own knife while trying to sheath it.

“Mother fucker!” The words burst out of your mouth before you could stop them, tingling pain finally pushing its way through your surprised brain and throbbing from your palm all the way up your arm.

Blood slowly dripped on the concrete of the courtyard as you grasped your right wrist with your left hand, gasping softly.

I have to get to the medical center, Jesus Christ, why the hell does it hurt so much!?

You’d just started taking steps toward the gate, eyes locked on your bleeding palm when you heard stomping footsteps approaching fast. Before you knew it, camo-covered legs were in your peripheral vision.  

You looked up at Quaritch’s irritated and baffled face, his eyebrows furrowed as he snagged your wrist and yanked your arm up to his face to closer inspect the bleeding wound on your hand.

“Jesus Christ, Peach, the fuck did you do? I left you alone for two seconds!”  

“I-I know, I know! I was just trying to put it back into its sheath and-and I must have not been paying attention and it-” you stuttered, mind franticly trying to come up with an excuse to say instead of why you’d been so distracted.

There was no fucking way you were ever going to tell Quaritch you’d actually injured yourself because you were preoccupied with checking out his ass. Your pride and dignity would never make a recovery.

He interrupted you before you could finish, gripping your wrist tightly as he hissed, “Yeah, I can see that. Fucking hell, I should just start callin’ you clumsy instead of Peach. Let’s go.”

Quaritch lowered your arm from his face, scowling deeply, his own ears flicking angrily.

He began walking with your wrist still in his grasp. He tugged on your arm when you remained rooted to the ground, and you stumbled after him.

“U-Uh, hey, where are we going?”

“To the medical center, you idiot. It doesn’t look too deep but you’re going to need to get it cleaned. Hurry the fuck up, let’s go.”

He marched you out of the courtyard, through the bustling area of soldiers and across Bridgehead, all the while still holding onto you.

Every now and then he’d shorten his long, angry stride to take a look at your hand, and every time he did, the scowl on his face grew. His sharp teeth were clenched angrily as you walked on.

You didn’t say a word, too embarrassed and in pain, even as you struggled to keep up with his aggressive pace. You winced every time a gust of air blew across your open wound and made it sting even more. Every time you winced, Quaritch’s grip tightened.

Eventually you made it to the med center, and Quaritch waltzed through the doors with zero concern or hesitation. He tugged you upfront to stand beside him and finally released his grip on your wrist.

Ten or so tiny little humans wearing exo-masks and white sanitary gear bustled around the near entrance of the center, but none took any notice of the two giant blue Avatars standing in front of them, too busy with their own tasks.

When none of them looked up from their work after two seconds, Quaritch lost his minuscule amount of patience and barked,  

“Hey!”

You jumped slightly, not expecting Quaritch to shout, and every person in the immediate vicinity froze, heads snapping up and around to you and Quaritch. His deep voice almost echoed in the ensuing silence as any other sound stopped.

You wanted to shrink away from their stares, to just go back to your quarters and take care of your wound by yourself. Quaritch must have sensed your uneasiness and desire to bolt, because he firmly placed one large hand on your bare back, fingers splaying out across your sensitive skin.

You jumped again at the unexpected feeling of his skin against yours and tensed, mouth parting to gasp before you choked it down.

Quaritch’s hand was so big that his thumb brushed up under the loose fabric of the training crop top you wore, and goosebumps erupted across your body as you involuntarily shivered at the feeling.

You could feel the pads of his fingers against your skin, and it felt so strange (good).

“If any of you busy fuckers wouldn’t mind takin' a moment to check out this girl here, I would greatly appreciate it.” Quaritch’s deep voice boomed across the silent room, clearly irritated and sarcastic.

He sneered at them all, and then lifted an eyebrow when everyone remained frozen, “Well?”

One brave little human finally managed to unstick their feet from the floor to approach you and Quaritch slowly, as if you were both wild animals that might attack her at any moment.

They come close enough that you can tell it was a woman, even through all the bright white gear she wore. She was short, stout, and stern-looking, with grey hair pulled up into a tight bun.

She tilted her head up to meet Quaritch’s fierce yellow gaze firmly, and you almost raised your eyebrows in surprise when she refused to look away from his angry glare, her back straight and gloved hands folded in front of her.

Jesus Christ, this lady has some serious balls, you had thought incredulously.

“What’s the problem, sir?” she asked, voice coming out polite but stiff.

Quaritch had seemed startled for about half a second, then he narrowed his eyes once more and said, “This idiot sliced her hand open.”

He nudged you strongly with the hand on your back and you took a stumbling step forward, looking down at her small face and sheepishly raising your right bloody hand. It had stopped bleeding so much a few minutes before you had entered the center, but it was still a gross-looking mess.

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry, I did do that,” you said sheepishly, apologetic.

The lady didn’t seem remotely bothered by the blood, though, and she simply sighed before guiding you over to a nearby cot with a white privacy sheet away from the entrance of the center.

You walked over willingly, careful not to jostle your hand. The stinging had faded slightly now that you were inside, but it was far from numb, and you didn’t want to make it hurt even more.

As you walked over to the tent, Quaritch left your side without your notice and wandered somewhere out of your viewpoint without a word.

You turned around to say something to him, and only then did you even notice he was gone.

Oh, you had thought, he could have at least said goodbye.  

The lady introduced herself as Doctor Miriam as she moved around your cot to grab various medical supplies. She asked you some questions, like how and when you injured yourself, and with what.

You sheepishly told her that you had been distracted when you had cut yourself, and your hand drifted down to your pocket to grab your knife to show it to her.

Your heart dropped to your shoes when you were met with nothing, and you tensed in alarm before immediately slouching when you realized you had dropped it in the courtyard.

You’d have to go back for it once this was done, but you’d much prefer that than it being lost like you had thought it was when you hadn’t felt it in your pants. Quaritch would have killed you.

All in all, the process for healing your hand was a simple one; Doctor Miriam cleaned your palm, removed the gravel, smeared a clear gel on it, and wrapped the upper part of your hand with a simple white bandage.

“Luckily,” Doctor Miriam explained, “the cut is shallow enough that it didn’t sever any of the nerves in your hand. It’ll be healed by tonight because of the medicinal properties in that healing gel, but be careful not to squeeze anything too tight. You don’t even have to wear the bandage for more than a few hours.”

You thanked her profusely and apologized again for causing her trouble, and she simply waved her hand, patted you on the back firmly, and guided you back toward the entrance of the center.

You stepped outside back into the light of Pandora, so ready to go back to the Avatar center to take a shower and get back into your own body after such a tiresome ordeal.

You’d barely taken a few steps before Quaritch rounded the corner of the building, stepping into your viewpoint.

You jerked to a stop, wondering what the hell he was still doing here.

He headed toward the entrance of the med center in long strides but stopped when he saw you standing outside. He changed his course of direction to you and reached you in a scant few seconds.

“I thought you were gone?” you asked, bandaged hand raising to shield your eyes from the bright light as you looked up at him.

Quaritch grabbed your wrist once more to examine the handiwork of Doctor Miriam. Apparently satisfied, he dropped your arm a moment later, and you let it go limply back to your side, still waiting for an answer.

“Noticed you left my knife in the courtyard, and I don’t like leaving my shit where others can take it,” he said, and lifted up your knife to your view.

“Sorry, sorry, I was just about to go back for it!” you exclaimed, hand reaching out to grab it from his own.

Quaritch pulled his hand back before you could take it, scoffing loudly before he asked, “What, you think you can just leave my shit laying around and then just take it back?”

He took a step closer to you, face lowering down to yours to look you firmly in the eye. He glowered at you, yellow eyes burning as he said, “Don’t do it again.”

You wanted to scoff at him and say, ‘Well, I was a little distracted by all the blood pouring from my hand!’, but you bit your tongue. It would just result in an argument you would never win.

“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

He glared at you one last time before dropping the knife into your hand. You took it gratefully, and as you tucked it into the pocket of your pants, you noticed that he had cleaned it of your blood. 

“And the next time you handle that knife, Peach, do your best not to slice open your own hand. Jesus, you gotta be the clumsiest brainiac I’ve ever met.”

You winced, suddenly feeling a hot flash of embarrassment all over again at the thought of your accident. You shuffled awkwardly and cleared your throat before you tilted your head up to meet his gaze, and you said, “Thanks for your help, sir. I really appreciate it.”

Quaritch sneered down at you, ears flicking as he sniffed derisively and said, “You’re damn right you’re thankful,” and then he stormed away as quickly as he had arrived.

You had watched him go, and it wasn’t until later that night as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling that you realized how surprised you had been that Quaritch had even bothered to take you to the center.

For all the cut had hurt like a bitch, it was far more superficial than life-threatening. Quaritch had been able to tell that the moment he had looked it at, but he still stayed with you to take you to the center. And he hadn’t even complained about it once while you were walking, which was a goddamn miracle for Quaritch.

And there was that other time a few days into the first week of lessons when you had neglected to eat much of breakfast, nor much of dinner the night before. While that would have been fine to do in your human form, your Avatar needs a massive amount of nutrients and calories to survive. Since you were working yourself to the bone every morning for the past week, it was a very dumb move to forget to eat two meals in a row.

You had gone out one morning to meet Quaritch and had felt fine through his Na’vi lesson, and it was only during your own combat session that you began to weaken.

You were thirty minutes in, clumsily dodging Quaritch’s hits when black spots began to cover your eyes. You stumbled to a stop, panting and dizzy, and your limbs felt much heavier than before. Your arms lowered from where they had been positioned defensively in front of you as you struggled to stay upright, swaying unsteadily on your feet.

Quaritch paused in his own movement, his fists lowering down in confusion as his eyes flickered over your face before he said, “You good, Peach? You’re lookin’ a lil’ green for such a blue girl-woah!”

Your vision faded, sounds muting out as you felt your body slacken. Just as you began to tilt backward, Quaritch lunged forward and caught your limp form before you could hit the ground.

It took a moment to come back to reality, to claw your way out of the darkness as the harsh buzzing in your ears lessened. You slowly moved your fingers and legs as feeling came back to them, and you realized distantly that your upper body was laying down across something firm and covered in soft fabric.

 A deep voice began to filter into your ears as you kept your eyes closed, still not fully conscious.

“Hey, Peach? Peach, you wuss, you went and passed out on me, wake up.”

You groaned as a hand began to lightly smack your right cheek, slowly blinking open your eyes.

For a moment, the only thing you could see was fuzzy blue, until Quaritch’s upper body and face became clearer. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, lips curled in light amusement, but you felt more than saw his shoulders become less ridged when you met his eyes.

You swallowed, mouth dry, and whispered, “Oh. Did I pass out?”

Quaritch barked out a ridiculing laugh and said, “Yeah, sweetheart, you sure did.”

“Oh,” you said again, still stunned. It wasn’t the first time you’d fainted, but the empty and dizzy feeling never got easier.

You swallowed again and realized just how thirsty you were. Your stomach growled furiously, and all of a sudden you were starving.

Didn’t even think about eating, you realized, beyond disappointed in yourself for not taking proper care of your Avatar. 

You moved your shoulders to start lifting yourself up from the ground, before you realized with disbelief and humiliation that you weren’t laying on the hard ground, but rather your upper body was mostly in Quaritch’s fucking lap.

No wonder I had been able to smell him so well, I’m practically on top the poor guy!

You blinked and lifted your head up, your face coming closer to Quaritch’s own, close enough that you could see the small flecks of brilliant green in his bright yellow eyes. More embarrassment flashed through you even as you subtly inhaled his intoxicating scent, made more overwhelming and mind-numbing by your proximity to him.

You wanted to scream and bury your face in your hands. Not only had you passed out like an absolute pussy for such a stupid reason, but Quaritch had actually had to catch you like you were some prissy damsel in distress. Honestly you were surprised he had even bothered to prevent you from falling, let alone bothered enough to cradle you in his lap until you had awoken.

Probably just pitied the stupid, clumsy girl who couldn’t even take care of herself, you thought bitterly, lips thinning.

You sniffed quietly as you met his eyes, your own golden eyes flicking between his as you said, slightly breathlessly, “Thanks for catching me.”

He looked back down at you blankly, eyebrows furrowing for just a moment and ears flicking back on the sides of his head before he scoffed and said, “Fuck, Peach, I just didn’t want you to bust your head and get blood all over my courtyard is all.”

You saw his muscled biceps suddenly flex with tension and realized you had about two seconds to get yourself off his lap before he tossed you away, curious generosity swiftly revoked.  

You tensed your core to sit upright quickly, and once you no longer felt dizzy, you shifted your hands to support yourself. Your right one went to press a palm down firmly on the ground, and once you began to lift yourself up all the way, your left hand moved to place itself better. That would have been fine if Quaritch hadn’t still been sitting there, waiting for you to move so he could get up.

Your hand landed just on the right side of his crotch, pinky finger brushing gently against something really fucking big by the cold zipper of his pants.

Oh.

Your stomach exploded with butterflies before sinking violently like a stone in dread as you realized exactly who you were practically fondling.  

You gasped loudly, head whipping downward in wide-eyed horror to confirm your terrified thoughts, and, yep, that was your hand full on Colonel Quaritch’s lap, just an inch away from earning you a horrifying phone call from the human resource department. If Quaritch didn’t rip your arms off and strangle you first, that is.

You jerked your hand away as fast you could, face and ears already burning. You franticly started lifting yourself away so you can give him more space, and you turned to look at him so you could furiously apologize and beg for your life.

Quaritch snatched your wrist in a bruising grip before you could fully pull away and tugged you angrily back into his body space. You hit the ground hard on your knees, wincing, kneeling in front of his sitting form. You didn’t even have time to pull away or straighten up before Quaritch is shoving his furious face close to yours, tail flicking furiously behind him.

And you couldn’t help but distantly think, this close to his face and eyes, he really is fucking pretty.

“You,” he hissed, bright yellow eyes enraged and narrowed as they flickered across your own wide ones, “need to watch you put your fucking hands, sweetheart, before you start something you can’t finish.”

“Sorry, sorry!” you squeaked, heart pounding in your chest with all sorts of emotions, “It was a slip of the hand!”

Quaritch growled, baring his sharp teeth slightly before tossing you your wrist back to you. You scrambled up and away from him quickly, taking several steps to widen your distance, chest heaving.

Quaritch rose as well, glaring at you one last time before turning on his heel and walking right out of the courtyard, fists clenched and tail still flicking angrily behind him.

As you squint worriedly after him, wondering if this was the end of your brief partnership, you could see the slight hint of a pretty purple on the back of his neck and the tip of his ears.

It was an accident, you wanted to shout after him, but somehow you don’t think it would help any.

Jesus Christ, I think my heart is about to explode.   

The morning after that whole thing had been unnerving, with Quaritch still grouchy and you still embarrassed. It was a little awkward when you began Quaritch’s Na’vi lesson, but by the time it was your lesson, you were back to inelegantly moving around and Quaritch was back to kicking your ass.

Now, every morning since your fainting spell, Quaritch will ask, “You sure you won’t pass out again, princess?”, or “Sure hope you snagged some grub, Peach”, always smirking callously and teasing you whenever he gets the chance, the dickbag.

You can’t really blame him, though; you really, really didn’t want another crotch-grabbing incident. Knowing your luck, you’d do something even worse, like full-on fondle him or trip and land face-first into his lap.

So now you make sure to take proper care of your Avatar, always eating and drinking enough and listening to the signals your body gave you. It had been massively dumb for you to not do that in the first place, but now you’re going to make sure it is your top priority.

As you finally arrive at your quarters, you conclude that you are far from friends with Quaritch, if that was even a possibility for him. In fact, you don’t think he even had any friends.

Sure, he was the commander of the Recombinant Unit and everything, and those guys fucking worship him, but it didn’t seem like it was the same as actually being friends who care about each other.

You get ready for bed, mind consumed with thoughts of Quaritch, and you can't help the thought that pops into your head as you shuffle around your room.

You know, I don't think I would mind all that much being friends with him.

Peachy Keen. Part Three.

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