Rare Picture: All 3 Hughes Brother Smiling At The Same Time

The Shelter | Eminem—Marshall Mathers

masterlist

summary: you meet eminem at the shelter when your friend drags you along to your first show

pairing: fem! reader x marshall mathers/eminem

words: 1.7k

The night sky across Detroit had stars splattered across the pitch black sky. It was so beautiful that many people that called the 313 their home, momentarily forgot the weight that was bearing on their shoulders, walking across the street towards the shelter with their heads facing the sky. Lauren grabbed your hand so the two of you could sprint across the street to follow a crowd full of people into the Shelter. It was your first time ever going to step foot in the shelter. Lauren was a huge fan of rap and hip hop and had forced you to go since her other friends had planned for the night. You squeezed through a crowd full of people that were waiting in front of the line. ‘Aren’t we supposed to line up?’

‘No,’ she replied, barely looking over your shoulder, still tugging your body until she had reached the bouncers. Neither of them said anything. They gave her body a quick scan and stepped aside, letting her pass into a tight and dark hallway, with flickering lights barely illuminating enough light to see where you were going.It seemed less than a second when she let go of your arm and disappeared as soon as she let go.

‘Lauren!’ You called out, stopping in your tracks to try and find her. ‘Lauren?’ You continued to walk along the hall, no idea where you were going or where it was heading.

It was an eerie atmosphere trapped among the building, filled with people you didn’t know and people double your size. It felt clammy, uncomfortable and you needed space to breathe. Luckily the further you continued down the hall you eventually found a bathroom. Opening the door you took a few steps into the room before you collided with a hard wall, or so you thought. No wall, just a man. He had bleach-blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin and a pointy nose. He was hot. His eyebrows were slightly knitted, his jaw flexed as he stared at you, somewhat intimidatingly.

‘Sorry,’ you said, not moving from your spot.

‘You’re good.’ He replied, his voice laced with drugs that perked up your ears like a deer. He said nothing more than a few words yet they felt like they had sung to your soul, ready to listen to what he had to say. ‘Are you here to watch the show?’

‘Yeah,’ faint smile, lips freshly coated with a sheer red lip. ‘Are you here to watch or perform?’

‘Perform hopefully,’ He adjusted his beanie, his pale skin contrasting the dark washed clothes that hung off his body, barely a silhouette to be seen.

‘Good luck out there.’

‘Thanks.’ He didn’t smile but his face wasn’t as stern as it had been before. Probably one of those men that barely smile or show emotions.

The man you wanted to ask for his name walked past you in a hurry, the whiff of his cheap cologne the only thing that stayed inside the bathroom. Barely getting a chance to mentally go over your encounter you heard the faint voice of Lauren behind you and followed it until you saw her up front before the stage waving you over with a big smile. You walked over and awaited the performance of the mystery man. When he came on stage it was like you were living through his emotions. You could tell he was nervous, maybe you only thought that because he had teased it with you but his eyes looked like there was nothing behind them except rage to rip his opponent to pieces. And that’s what he did. Cypher after cypher, beat after beat, he took majority of the wins and climbed his way to the finale. When the final rappers were announced he had scanned the crowd to look at the people who were cheering on him. His eyes stopped scanning the crown when he laid his eyes upon you, staring at you for so long you were able to flash him a smile and whisper ‘you got this’ which you knew he understood.

The final round demonstrated his flow, speed and creativity on a different level than the rounds before. It was your first show and you knew that second that he had what it took to make a rap legend. When he was crowned winner of the shelter you applauded him like it was only your claps he could hear. When people started to get ready to leave, Lauren had tried holding your hand to not be separated once again but you told her that you wanted to talk to someone and told her you would meet her outside in a few minutes.

‘Hey,’ you walked up to the same blonde boy you had met before. His friends who were talking to him steadily crept away from him and left the two of you alone, knowing that this was a conversation not meant to involve them. ‘I just wanted to say that you absolutely killed it on stage. I know it’s my first time so my comment might not mean much but I just wanted to let you know that you have an incredible talent.’

‘Thank you.’ He replied somewhat dryly. ‘All praise is good.’ His blue eyes stared at you like they had before and before, ready to manipulate you into spilling your secrets. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Y/n.’

‘Eminem. Marshall Mathers.’

‘Nice alliteration,’ you chuckled, earning a small tug on his lip from the monotone face before you. It suited him—a smile. The way his eyes would crinkle. He suited a smile. ‘I hope this won’t be a shot in the dark but can I give you my number?’ Your heart began to race, grabbing the piece of paper with your digits that you had written down right after the bathroom encounter, knowing you wanted to get to know him.

He grabbed the note, roughly inspecting it, ‘I’ll give you a call if I’m interested,’ you gave him an approving smile before he turned around.

Seconds later the sound of your phone rang from your bag, desperately trying to fish out the ringing phone and answering it without looking at the caller. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi.’

‘Who is this?’

‘You know me.’ The voice sounded oddly familiar, you had heard it before but couldn’t recall when.

‘I’m afraid I don’t.’

‘I just wanted to call and say I’m interested.’

The answer popped into your head the same time Marshall turned around with a smirk on his face. Playfully glaring at him you continued to talk over the phone.

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Will you take me out then?’

‘Do you want me to?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then let’s get out of here.’

You hung up the phone and stepped closer to him before you both walked out of the Shelter, walking through areas of Detroit before stepping into a fast food chain to sit down, eat and get to know each other and that night you were already grateful that your life had led you to the shelter.

‘You live around here?’ Marshall asked, taking a sip from his soda, with those eyes that never seemed to stop glaring at you.

‘Yeah,’ you said as you picked up a fry and let it sit before your lips before you had finished your sentence. ‘Born and raised in Palmer Woods.’

‘Palmer Woods?’

‘Yep.’

‘Your family got money?’

‘Why,’ you raised your brows. ‘Is it a problem?’

‘Nah man, I was wondering what a girl like you is doin’ around these parts of Detroit.’

‘Just because I live across 8 Mile doesn’t mean I have to stay there y’know. Most of the people there are stuck up asses anyway.’ You relaxed your back into the booth seat, crossing your legs. ‘Where do you live?’

‘Warren.’

‘Shit neighbourhood.’

‘Tell me somethin’ I don’t already know, Y/n,’ he gave a gloomy reply, taking a bite from his burger, also relaxing into the chair.

‘Do you want to leave?’

‘Nah not really. A nice fucking house would be sweet man but I could never leave the city, you feel me?’

‘Never wish to get away from here? All this bullshit? Crime? I mean it’s fucking exhausting here. We’re all living here never knowing when our last day is our last day.’

‘You scared?’

‘Sometimes but with this in my bag,’ you lifted the handle of a gun only enough for him to see before shoving it away so you wouldn’t accidentally start anything. ‘I feel a lot safer.’

‘That ain’t what I was expecting.’ He chuckled. An actual chuckle. The corners of his lips turned, showing you that faint smile you already loved. ‘You’re kinda different from all the other girls I’ve met.’

‘Positively I hope.’

‘Yeah,’

‘Your house around here?’ You returned the question, not noticing that you had asked him before.

‘Why? Want me to take you?’

‘Just making conversation, Marshall. I’ve known you for less than three hours. Why? Want to take me?’

‘Maybe.’ He smirked, both of your eyes filled with amusement as you finished your food. ‘Not tonight though.’

‘Maybe some other time?’

‘I’ma be honest with you,’ he put his elbows on the table. ‘You’ll probably see my house once but will never go in. My mom ain’t a pretty sight.’

‘I won’t judge you for your house.’

‘I don’t care what anyone thinks but I like you, Y/n, no way in hell am I showing that shit hole so soon.’

‘It’s okay,’ you smiled. ‘I’m more interested in you than your house anyway.’

‘What are you sweet-talking me for?’ Marshall playfully squinted his eyes.

‘Is it working?’

‘Man, you got me good.’

‘Good.’ You bit your lip, ‘Let’s get outta here.’ You got out of the booth and walked out with Marshall by your side as he walked you home, taking the time to get to know each other. At your front door it seemed like neither of you knew how to say goodbye, the two of you standing across each other, the dim entrance light casting a shadow across his face.

‘Thank you.’ You said.

‘No worries.’

‘Call me,’ you took a step towards him and placed a quick kiss on his cheeks.

‘I will, Y/n. You won’t be getting rid of me anytime soon.’ He smirked, both his hands balled into the pockets of his hoodie.

‘Good.’

‘Good.’

‘Good night, Marshall Mathers.’

‘Good night, Y/n.’

sweet pea

aaron hotchner x teen!reader, bau team x teen!reader

5 times the team hears about you and the 1 time they actually meet you

cw: fem reader, set over the span of three years, case mentions, broken family unit, hotchner trio, hotch is a swiftie, also refers to his daughter as ‘sweet pea’, team is nosy, eating/food, forehead kisses run the hotchner home

wc: 3.4k

༺♡༻

1. inception

child cases are always rough.

they’re not only extremely sensitive, but they hit emotionally for everyone involved. 

it’s a small town and yet no strong leads. there’s no reason for the case to be as difficult as it is, but every case the team looks into is different.

local p.d. bring in a woman named chancy solace. she was the last one to see the missing boy alive and no one wants to wait around for another death to happen to look for evidence.

hotch was set to do the interview.

he asked basic questions about the missing boy, keeping his voice calm as she recounted her day through tears. they all knew she was innocent, no doubts about it. he was set to finish up after a few moments. it was clear she didn’t know much.

as he went to stand, however, solace had stopped him.

“do you have children, agent hotchner?” her voice was broken.

hotch nods. “i do.”

“how old?”

“my son is 3 and my daughter is 13.”

the air outside the room went stale. everyone on the team knew jack. some had even met him within his first few weeks of life. he was three, that was a fact - but a daughter? not once had hotch mentioned one, let alone one with such a large age gap. jack never rattled about a big sister either.

solace frowned, more tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “then you must understand the guilt i’m feeling right now. can you imagine if you were the last one to see your daughter before she disappeared? how can i possibly have it in me to be a part of this?”

hotch doesn’t want to think about the question she posed, not at all.

“we’re going to find him. it’s going to be alright,” it was a promise, one hotch intended not to break.

he left the room after that. their only known witness wasn’t much help for the case and there was no point in wasting time.

rossi stops hotch before he can walk away.

“why’d you lie?”

there’s no question on what rossi is asking about. it’s profiling 101 that lying to a suspect, no matter innocent or not, could be dangerous.

hotch glanced at his team.

“i didn’t.”

2. first encounter

you’ve had a really, really, really bad day.

from the second you woke up, everything seemed to go wrong. school wasn’t any better and by the end of the day, the only thing you wanted to do was see your dad. he’s your favorite person and a hug from him always reassures you that things will be okay.

you text him before your last class of the day to ask when he’ll be home. if it’s even possible, a deeper frown appears on his face when he tells you no later than six. 

part of you wants to be happy from that response. no later than six means there’s no cases and he’s on top of his files. but after the day you had, you just need someone and waiting nearly four hours for him to get home is less than ideal. 

can i come to the bau?

your text is a shot in the dark. your dad keeps you out of his profession and you’ve never stepped foot in quantico. you just hope he gets some sort of semblance for what's going on if you're asking to come see him.

he responds back seconds later. ‘i’ll send an agent.’

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you to get there on your own, there’s even a direct line from the train station closest to your school, but you're still young, only 14, and you know he would feel more comfortable having an agent pick you up.

the next time you check your phone, your dad has sent a message with the name of the agent and instructions on how to prove that it’s him. it’s not him being overprotective, it’s him wanting you to be safe. 

agent anderson is easy enough to spot. you run through the procedures your dad wanted and once you know it’s the right person, you get in the car.

he doesn’t say anything when you shove your earbuds in your ears and shuffle your playlist and you’re thankful for that. you’re especially grateful that he doesn’t ask questions when you bite your lip and swipe away stray tears that have fallen down your face.

music is an outlet for you, an escape, and right now that’s all you wanted to do. 

earbuds remain in your ears as you step into the bau building. anderson leads you through security and gets you a visitors badge. you very faintly hear any of his verbal instructions.

he leaves you once you reach the right floor, pointing through the glass doors to show you where to go. with a smile, he’s gone.

you weigh your options for a moment before walking in. you told your dad you're here but you don’t know where his office is. and right now, you really do not want to deal with anyone else. but with a deep breath, you decide to take your chances and head in.

a child walking into the bau is an automatic red flag, let alone one with puffy eyes and red cheeks, a clear sign of crying.

morgan and j.j. are the first two to stand up, wasting no time in circling their desks to walk to where you stand at the bullpen entrance; j.j.’s mouth already open with an “are you alright?” on the tip of her tongue.

but before they reach you, and before j.j. can speak, hotch is out of his office and moving down the stairs.

he steps in front of them when he faces you, thus shielding you from the prying eyes of the team. you look up at your dad, eyes full of a new wave of tears.

hotch doesn’t hug you then, though he desperately wants to, nor does he explain who you are to the team. instead, he places a strong hand on your shoulder, turning you slightly before guiding you up to his office. the door is shut and the blinds are closed. the two of you are cut off from the others and all of them know not to intrude.

“who was that?” rossi questioned after stepping onto the catwalk. the commotion was noticeable.

“i think we just met y/n.”

3. phone call 

on flights home from cases, what the team does onboard genuinely varies with what time of day it is.

during early morning and late night flights, you can find most of the team asleep, trying to make up for the rest lost in the past few days. anything between that is typically a more active time.

hotch is dealt into a game of poker with the entire team. rossi acts as the dealer claiming he’s “not in the mood to get outsmarted at his favorite game.”

the entire group is laughing and chatting among themselves as they play. there’s no reason not to, it was a successful case - worth the positive mood on the jet.

hotch’s phone ringing cuts through emily’s turn.

he holds his hands up in defense and mumbles a quiet apology.

“hi sweet pea,” hotch barely has time to greet you before he gets cut off with your frantic “did you listen?”

his laugh causes the others to bring their heads up from their cards. a hotch laugh is uncommon, rare.

“i did. we finished up here last night so i listened before i went to bed and finished when i woke up,” he answers your question. 

he waits for your response, already knowing that you want to know his thoughts on the album.

“well,” hotch pauses. “if i’m being honest, i liked it more than fearless.”

j.j. and emily are the only two who have any idea what he’s talking about. a record could be set for how fast their eyes snap to each other once it clicks.

hotch is quiet for a few moments. though no one can make out exactly what you’re saying on the other end, they can hear your muffled rambling.

“yeah yeah, i liked that one too,” hotch agrees. “i think my top two are dear john and haunted, though. her songwriting is incredible in those.”

whatever he means clearly pleases you judging by the content look on his face.

“alright i have to get going,” he starts. “but i have the vinyl reserved at the record store. we can go when i get back? should be home by two.”

you agree without hesitation, several “thank you’s” being repeated. hotch won’t admit it ever to anyone besides you, but he’s excited to hear it on vinyl too. it’s kinda your shared thing.

“i’ll see you when i get home, okay? i love you.”

he hangs up after goodbyes, placing his phone back onto the table before picking up his cards. the silence lingers in the air even after he makes the motion that he’s ready to continue. “what?”

“you listen to taylor swift?”

hotch smiles, a genuine one. “my daughter loves her. have to keep up somehow.”

4. vacation 

when hotch doesn’t show up to work for a week, it takes only the first day for the team to panic. it had been a little over a year and a half since foyet had stabbed hotch and hotch had gone missing. no one was going to take chances when their boss, who typically had perfect attendance, showed up without notice.

rossi and morgan went to strauss at the end of the day. 

their interrogation on hotch’s whereabouts is in good faith, but it doesn’t take a profiler to notice strauss’ sigh at their concerns.

“agent hotchner is on vacation,” she starts. “he should be back next week. until then, i am under orders to not assign a new case unless necessary.”

the agents turn to each other in confusion as they leave. “a vacation? come on rossi, when in all the years of knowing him has hotch ever willingly gone on vacation.”

the older man shrugs. “i don’t know. maybe this’ll be good for him.”

there’s no arguing with that.

when hotch returns the following monday, no one hesitates to notice the change in his physical appearance.

his skin is tanned and he has a slight tinge of sunburn on his nose and cheekbones; a clear sign he went somewhere warm.

“hotch!” emily catches him before he can retreat to his office.

all eyes are on him and he knows it. 

“where were you?” she inquired. 

hotch sighs. “greece.” 

this catches the attention of the other team members in the bullpen. rossi seems to have found an empty chair at j.j.’s desk. even garcia had chosen this exact moment to get a new cup of coffee.

“greece?” emily stutters. “like the european country?”

hotch nods. “that’s the one.” 

morgan whistles. vacations in the bau are fairly uncommon. the looming threat of being called back for a case stops most from planning. even if the timing does work out, no one goes far; let alone out of the country. 

“and you just decided to go there for a casual vacation,” j.j.’s tone isn’t condescending, but rather showing genuine curiosity.

“it’s y/n’s birthday in a few months and she’s always wanted to go,” hotch explains like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “jack’s still a little too young so he stayed with jessica.”

he doesn’t mingle around after that, choosing to head up to his office to get set up after his week away.

“huh,” garcia murmurs. “didn’t take him for a greek island guy.”

“guess that shows just how much he’s wrapped around y/n’s finger.”

5. baked goods

you don’t have school today.

despite that, you still get up early to have breakfast with your brother and dad. once jack is picked up by the bus for school, your dad gets ready for work.

you stay in the kitchen, however, moving the cookies you made last night from one container to the other.

when your dad reappears, you wait for his hands to be empty before posing your question.

“is there any way you can give these to agent rossi?” you practically shove the container into your dad’s hand.

aaron raises an eyebrow. “rossi?”

“you mentioned he was italian,” you wait for a nod of confirmation. “these are canestrelli, they’re an italian cookie. i wanted to know if you could give these to him for a taste test.”

he smiles. “trying to expand your baking horizons?”

you match his expression. “exactly.”

with a kiss to your forehead, your dad is out the door and off to work.

“delivery,” hotch’s tone is steady as he knocks on rossi’s office door.

“from who?”

“y/n,” hotch answers as he sets the container down. “she tried to make canestrelli and wanted your opinion. i’m just the messenger.”

rossi takes the container from hotch. he opens it up before plucking a cookie out and examining it. “looks authentic.” 

if he’s being honest, even if the cookie isn’t good, he’ll still love it.

but it isn’t.

of course it isn’t.

rossi takes one bite and his eyes widen.

“i haven’t had canestrelli this good since the last time i went to italy. tell her she should be very proud and i will be happy to pay for more.”

hotch can’t hide his proud expression. “i will.”

+1 first meeting

you always wait for your dad to get home from work. it’s routine.

plus, you made a promise to jack when you put him to bed that you would send your dad upstairs when he got home.

you bake in the meantime. it’s something to pass the time and you figure having something fresh to eat would be a nice surprise for your dad.

music plays from the record you have spinning. you keep it quiet as to not wake jack up upstairs. he’s not a light sleeper, but you don’t want to disturb his rest.

the side door opens as you're mixing the flour to the batter. tonight’s bake is gingerbread. easy enough to make. 

it surprises you when your dad doesn’t call out a hello. he’s come home this late before when you’re still up and he always makes it a point to greet you. plus, you have music playing. there’s no doubt he can’t hear that.

“dad?” your voice is quiet.

you peer around the corner, stepping out a bit further when you see him, though you freeze when you notice the other people following him. 

“hi sweet pea,” his voice is tired, you can tell. you close your eyes when he hugs you and kisses your forehead. if his team is here you know it’s not good.

“what’s going on?”

he turns to you. “i can explain in a few minutes. are you okay for introductions?” his voice lowers for the last part, not wanting the team to hear if you say no.

you nod, though anxiety bubbles at the pit of your stomach at the deflection of the question.

“everyone, this is y/n, my daughter,” your dad starts. unsure what to do, you wave slightly. “y/n, this is my team, that’s dave, derek, emily, spencer, j.j., and penelope.” he points to each of the people as he rattles his name off.

while your dad kept you out of his work, you did faintly know each member of the team. he talked about them in passing and jack rambled often about something “uncle dave” or “uncle derek” did.

“why are they here?” you hope your question doesn’t come off as rude.

your dad squeezes your arm. “can you go back in the kitchen for a few? i’m going to get these guys set up and then i can explain. is jack asleep?”

you nod. “i put him to bed a few hours ago. he was asking for you.”

“thank you,” he starts. “i’ll go see him in a bit.”

the conversation is over. you feel awkward standing in the foyer where you’re clearly the center of attention. you turn and walk into the kitchen. finishing your baking seems like a good idea.

aaron enters the kitchen as you’re pouring the batter into the pans. the music is off by now, though the record stays on the turntable. he waits for you to put the pan in the oven and face him before explaining.

“there’s a mole in the bau. we’re trying to figure it out but we obviously can’t work there. i volunteered our house. we would’ve gone to dave’s but he’s having work done.” you know he’s giving you the most minimal answer possible.

“oh,” you’re honestly not quite sure what else to say.

he continues. “we’re hoping to have it cleared up soon but we don’t have a lot of our normal equipment. i wasn’t expecting you to be up for all this. couldn’t sleep?”

“was waiting for you to get home,” you shrugged. “you know i always do.” 

“yeah i know. i should’ve called.”

you turn to him. “It’s alright. i’m just going to clean up while i wait for the gingerbread to be done and then i’ll go to bed.” 

your dad nods. “let me know when you do.” he disappears out of the kitchen after that.

cleaning up doesn’t take long and you’re still elbows deep in soapy water when the oven beeps. you take it out of the pan and set it on a cooling rack before gathering your stuff. you’re honestly exhausted.

going into the living room takes a moment of mental courage. you know everyone is in there and you don’t want to interrupt them. but, you’ve missed your dad and you want him to say goodnight.

“um, i’m going to head up to bed,” your voice echoes through the room. it was fairly quiet before and you feel embarrassed for interrupting that. the first part is directed at your dad. you turn to the rest of the team. “i made fresh gingerbread if anyone wants any. it’s on the counter, help yourself. i also put on a fresh pot of coffee and that should be ready soon.”

aaron’s heart is so full that he almost forgets the case at hand.

“i’ll be up in a minute,” aaron voices.

you hum, nodding to the team as a non-verbal goodnight.

he dishes out individual assignments within the team. they’ll work as a group to start before taking shifts so others can rest.

jack’s room is his first stop. he doesn’t wake the boy, choosing to instead kiss his forehead before picking up his stuffed dinosaur, a gift, and placing it back on the bed.

you’re just getting under the covers when your dad knocks.

“come in!”

your dad steps inside, shutting the door slightly.

“hi,” you smile.

“hi,” he echoes. “good day?”

you shrug. “yeah, i guess so. i got jack from school and we spent the afternoon together. missed you though.”

aaron frowns. “i’m sorry sweet pea. didn’t think this was going to happen. none of us did.”

“i know you didn’t. i’m not mad.”

you want to continue your statement and wash away any guilt you know he’s feeling. but, your body betrays you and a yawn cuts you off.

“alright, time for bed,” his words make you feel like a child but you know he’s right.

he tucks you in and like with jack, he kisses your forehead.

“goodnight dad, i love you.”

“i love you too.”

his demeanor changes when he goes downstairs and sits with the team. he’s serious, ready to work. right now this case is his priority. he, like others, wants to wrap it up quickly and efficiently. 

emily nudges him when he sits down beside her. spencer and derek’s banter about the case is long drowned out.

“she’s a good kid.”

hotch beams. 

“i know.”

umich pinterest finds😜💗🌷🌸👛

i giggled when i saw this

ultimate duos frfr🤞🤞

he’s so bbg

what the actual fuck is going on here

Sealed Their Fates

This is a new Tobias Eaton/ Four imagine for the Divergent fandom. I hope you will all like it, thank you for the amazing feedback on my first Four imagine.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585 @nickie-amore @elliott-calls @person-005

Main Masterlist

Summary: Everyone in Dauntless knows of (Y/n)'s relationship with Four, but some think that it gives her an unfair advantage. When they try and hurt (Y/n), she doesn't feel safe in her faction anymore.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) tilted her head back when she felt a pair of arms encase around her middle. She let her head fall back onto a firm shoulder and her hands slid down to hold onto the wrists resting over her waist.

She didn't have to look to know who it was behind her. The arms around her were familiar, like a safety blanket. The firm chest that was now glued up against her back was a comfort like no other and the pair of lips that hovered over the shell of her ear were another familiar sense.

Tobias.

"Morning," His voice was gritty and low against her ear and (Y/n) slouched back against him a little more. Grinning to herself when she felt Tobias lean back too until his shoulders were pressed up against the stone wall behind them.

"Hi." It was getting routine to keep her voice quiet when they found little moments like these.

It wasn't necessarily a secret that the pair of them had found solace and comfort in each other.

Others had noticed the way that Four would smile towards (Y/n) whereas he would generally be cold and ruthless towards anyone else. They had seen him take her hand and interlock their fingers, and they noticed that Four wasn't the instructor who trained (Y/n). He wouldn't do that; he wouldn't train the girl he had fallen for, not when he knew people would turn against her and accuse him of giving her points and helping her stay in Dauntless.

That didn't mean to say that Tobias wouldn't help train her late into the night when no one else was around. And he would give her tips and pointers and tell her how to outsmart the others, but he wouldn't do any of that in public, and he certainly wouldn't go around giving her any points.

They didn't hide what they had, but they didn't display it either. Quiet moments together in the mornings like this and little interludes wherever they could was what they decided to do until (Y/n) made it as a fully fledged member of Dauntless.

"You okay?" Tobias kept his lips hovering over (Y/n)'s ear while his hand smoothed up and down (Y/n)'s sternum like he was drawing aimless patterns into her shirt.

She nodded to his words, nudging the tip of her nose against his neck before she angled her head better so she could lean over and kiss him. She liked the way his arms tightened around her, like he was making sure she stayed right where she was and didn't dare pull out of his embrace for a moment. And the feeling of his palms pressing down into her sternum and waist made butterflies swarm through her system.

Sometimes (Y/n) wished it could be like this all the time. She wished she could lean against Tobias or take his hand or walk around with him and no one would bat an eyelid or make a bad comment.

And maybe after the initiates were all chosen and blended into Dauntless, after the dust settled and there was no more competing to stay and for status, things would change. (Y/n) was sure they would. She was sure that things would settle down, that they would all find their own rooms after they were fully fledged members of the faction. They would partner off and find their best suited jobs and no one would care that (Y/n) and Tobias were together.

She just hoped that it wouldn't feel like a lifetime to get to that point.

It proved to be some effort to turn around in his tight embrace, but (Y/n) managed the small task and looped her arms around the back of his neck. Her fingers brushed against the short gazed hairs at the back of his head and she let her chest slouch into his chest, effectively pinning Tobias between her and the wall. Not that he minded at all, he seemed happy to be sandwiched up against her in the corridor. Especially since they were alone without any onlookers.

"What're you thinking?" Tobias's words were hushed and (Y/n) barely heard them when he spoke with his lips so close to hers that they were almost touching.

Their noses brushed and she could feel his temple resting against hers, but it was the feeling of those cold lips hovering less than a centimetre away from hers that made (Y/n)'s knees want to give in. She pushed up on her toes, keeping her chest merged with his as her arms tightened slightly around his neck and her eyes creased with a smile.

"Just that I can't wait for training to be over."

(Y/n) knew being in Dauntless meant endless training, they would never stop, per say. They would always be training and running and fighting and sharpening their skills. But at least they wouldn't be fighting against one another, they wouldn't be opposites anymore. They would all be working together as a group, a family, a faction. That was the goal and (Y/n) wanted to skip this tournament of sorts and be at that point.

She felt Tobias sigh down at her with that half smile pulling at his lips and one arched brow. He knew how she felt, he had never been worried about his training, he had beaten all others in his group, including Eric with no problems. But he was desperate now for (Y/n) to make it through this phase with no problems.

"Me too." His words were nothing more than a whisper on the wind and (Y/n) managed to catch a glimmer of a smile pulling on his lips before she moved one hand to cradle the side of his face.

Her fingers danced a pattern on his cheek and (Y/n) pressed another kiss too his lips, savouring the cold touch and the feeling of Tobias tightening his hand around her hip. They didn't have long before they would have to go. They needed to go to the training room and begin their day, and that meant the start of the rest of the day without being too close to one another.

Another hint of a smile traced over Tobias's lips when he felt (Y/n) murmur "I'm not ready," against his mouth that was savouring her touch and stealing as many elicit kisses as he could manage.

His nose pressed against hers and his lips felt positively bruised in the best way when they finally parted. He allowed himself to lean his cheek into her palm that was cradling his face and shivers coursed up and down his skin from her touch.

"There aren't any fights scheduled for today, just remember what I taught you in training, and you'll be fine."

There was something about the coy grin that lit up (Y/n)'s face which made Tobias intrigued. He arched a brow and squinted down at her, wondering why that look had suddenly flooded her eyes and why she had such a grin all of a sudden.

"Hm, I might need a refresher course on that training."

"Oh really?" He couldn't help but laugh and he kept his cheek leaning into her palm which thankfully hadn't moved away from his face yet. He quite liked the touch. "We'll have to train later then to remind you, won't we?"

It wasn't wrong, not technically when anyone could ask for help with training and anyone could put the hours in to do more. (Y/n) wanted to do better, she wanted to have a better shot at staying in Dauntless and doing the best she possibly could, and Tobias was giving her hints. He watched her practice and told her what she could do to improve. He helped her straighten her frame and improve her throw and taut her how to duck and punch better.

It was the same hints and pointers that he gave to anyone he was instructing, it just happened to be late on in the evening when everyone else gave up to rest.

"Suppose we'd better go." Surprise flooded through (Y/n) when Tobias leaned down to snag another kiss from her lips and he pushed off the wall until he was practically pushing down onto her instead.

Neither of them wanted to part and head off into the training area, into the room that would be flooded with the rest of their faction. But they didn't have much of a choice. This was their faction and they had to make themselves useful, after all.

It was comforting to feel Tobias slip his hand into hers and the feeling of his fingers tapping against the back of her hand was comforting.

When he stood- or rather towered- beside her it felt like (Y/n) had a protective armor around her. The way his shoulder brushed against hers, how tense his arms felt, the sound of his leather boots hitting the stone floor, it was all dominating and overpowering in the best possible way.

It wasn't until they actually reached the training room that the aura seemed to change and (Y/n) felt like she was three inches tall. She barely felt Tobias give her hand a squeeze like he was trying to give her some of his courage.

Eyes were upon them immediately. Some just glances, some long stares and some with pits of jealousy that (Y/n) could feel burning through her skin.

She wanted to shrink in on herself and become invisible, but that wasn't what a Dauntless would do and she didn't have to feel this way.

She felt Tobias give her hand another squeeze so tight he almost cut off the circulation to her fingers. And he leaned down to murmur "Good luck," in her ear because he knew training was as hard and draining as it was rewarding. And with his head angled down, he managed to press a kiss to the back of her head without anyone noticing.

The moment his hand slipped from hers and (Y/n) heard his footsteps retreating, she suddenly felt cold. But she tried to brush it off, shaking the feeling away as she rolled her shoulders and clicked her neck into place.

She wanted to work on her throwing and her aim today, especially since there weren't any fights lined up so there was no imposing need to work on her punches and her balance.

She took a deep breath, sinking her teeth down into her bottom lip when she approached the targets and noticed a few of the other initiates hovering around. One of them happened to be Peter. (Y/n) wasn't sure why, but he had taken an instant disliking to her. He liked to make jibes and jokes and play the tormenter.

Nothing to serious which (Y/n) suspected was because he got his fair share of irritating and pushing her buttons when they were paired up to fight.

"Where's your loverboy, stiff?" Peter clasped his hands behind his back and took a look around but he missed Tobias who mingled in with the other initiates near the climbing ropes in the far corner.

"Where's your girlfriend, Pete?"

(Y/n) didn't bother looking up at him as she spoke. He could be as crude and annoying as he wanted, she would simply respond and annoy him back until he stopped. He could try and make jokes about her relationship with Tobias as much as he liked, (Y/n) would just make jokes about his love life in response, or lack there of.

Her words made his smile slip into a frown and he looked down at his hands for a moment, clearly irritated that she had quipped back at him so fast.

"Suppose I should fine one soon, preferably an instructor. After all, you got in there quick and ranked up your points." His head ticked towards the scoreboard which showed (Y/n) was two places higher up than Peter. Both of them were in the clear, they weren't in the red on the verge of being factionless, but that could all change. They all knew the scoreboard was changing daily with people improving and slipping all the time.

(Y/n) swiped a pack of four knives up from the table and moved towards a target, taking aim and throwing a knife dead centre into the targets middle where the heart would be.

"Then you'd better hurry Pete. From what I saw, I don't think many girls in here would be pleased with the little you have to offer." She didn't bother to look at him as she spoke. She was only trying to level the playing field and irritate him in the same way he was doing to her.

She threw another knife, but this one didn't hit anywhere on the target when Peter roughly barged his shoulder into her side and knocked her forwards.

A huff escaped her lips and she shook her head to herself, but when she glanced her eyes to the right, they locked on Tobias. His features were ever the same, blank and fierce, warding people to stay away from him and not to bother even trying to strike up a conversation.

But his hands- which were now wrapped in tape around the knuckles, ready for both fighting and climbing the ropes- were balled into fists at his sides. He turned away from the wall and took three strides in (Y/n)'s direction before he stopped.

She shook her head.

He didn't need to do anything. As annoying as Peter was, he was only making jibes, he hadn't done anything that warranted Tobias coming over and giving him the third degree. (Y/n) would rather ignore Peter than have her partner come over and try to sort it for her. She knew he meant well and she knew Tobias would threaten Peter to stay in line like he did with everyone else, but it would be easier to let this one go than to make a fuss.

Tobias took a deep breath, letting his eyes linger on (Y/n) for a few seconds longer as he nodded at her and stepped back. She could hold her own, he knew that, but he didn't want Peter to think he could keep stepping out of line and being rude and get away with it.

If any of the initiates started fights or casting others out when they weren't in the ring, the instructors put a stop to it. Competition was fine as long as it was healthy and in good faith. If Peter really belonged in Dauntless than he had nothing to fear, and no reason to be picking on (Y/n) or anyone else.

(Y/n) kept her eyes on Tobias even after he turned and aimed for the rope again which he wasted no time in climbing like he was desperate to get away from everyone else.

She twirled the knife in her hand between her fingers as she watched him, letting herself relax and bask in the aura Tobias exuded, even from across the room.

Roll on phase two when all the competition would be over.

***

A slight sting burned in (Y/n)'s knuckles and she wrung her hands out at her sides, trying to shake away the dull sting and get the feeling back in her fingers. Most of the day had been spent fighting and (Y/n) could feel the bruises that were no doubt blossoming on her skin beneath her clothes.

Her knuckles had split open, grazes littered her hands and her fingers were practically on fire. She had fought against Peter today, curtesy of Eric who had noticed the pair arguing and getting annoyed with each other and thought a fight between them would air out the tension.

It hadn't.

Peter seemed to lose himself when he lost. (Y/n) had barely managed to win, but when she got Peter in a choke hold and made him blackout, he didn't have a choice but to back out of the fight. He physically couldn't get up and it took him too long to regain his breath back, so Eric called (Y/n) the winner and that was that.

He had stormed off in a rage, kicking anything and everything within sight and cradling his sore neck that had been inflamed red and would be littered with bruises and marks in the morning.

(Y/n) had done her best to stay out of his way since this morning and she was ready to sleep.

She didn't want to bother with any extra training tonight, her hands were too sore and she was too tired. Getting some rest would be a better idea than working herself to the bone and being run down tomorrow. Eric might try and pit her against someone else in a fight tomorrow and (Y/n) would need her energy for that.

Her hand rubbed at the back of her neck which she clicked into place as she slowly aimed down the corridor.

It was a long trek back towards the dorms and it was irritating to have to share a room with over twenty others, but it was only until they had passed. Once their training was over and the select few were included into Dauntless, they would each be able to get their own little apartment like the rest of the faction.

Thank God. (Y/n) was fed up sharing with others, fed up of hearing them snore and the beds creak and people getting up to use the toilet. She was fed up of getting up early to shower before everyone else and trying to change without people peering over to get a look.

Her own room would be a dream compared to what these last few weeks had been like.

All she wanted to do now was climb into her bed and disappear until the morning rolled around.

But as she turned from the corridor and headed towards the next hall, her hands clenched into fists and a surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins. She found herself stepping towards the wall as if it would provide some kind of safety when she saw who was walking down the hall towards her.

Peter. Followed swiftly by two of his cronies, and all three of them seemed to grin wider when they noticed her; and the fact that she was alone.

"Oh look, it's the stiff."

(Y/n) refrained from rolling her eyes, she didn't need to cause any arguments. It was late, she didn't want to stand around and berate each other when there was no need. He could go his own way and (Y/n) would aim for the dorms and they didn't need to have any interaction at all.

With her head ducked down, (Y/n) stuck close to the wall and tried to walk past them. She jabbed her elbow out to push Peter when he tried to get close. She didn't know what he was trying to do and she didn't want to know either, she just wanted to get away from him.

One of them, she wasn't sure which, tried to grab her wrist, but (Y/n) lashed out and slammed her heel against his inner leg which caused him to stumble.

"Just fuck off." She wasn't in the mood for a fight or an argument, she just wanted to go to sleep.

(Y/n) quickened her steps and veered down the hall with speed, praying that the three of them would just huff and carry on their way. And for a few seconds, she thought they had.

But then they grabbed her.

She hadn't heard them coming up behind her, not until it was too late. An arm deadlocked around her neck causing her to stumble backwards and her head slammed into a bony shoulder. A strangled sound escaped (Y/n)'s lips and she scratched her nails into the arm around her neck, about to lean forward so she could ram her elbow behind her. But her legs were swept from beneath her.

One of them snagged her ankles and heaved her legs up until it felt like she was about to fall down and slam her head into the ground.

A scream burst past her lips as much as she could with the arm pinned to her throat and her shoulders slid down the person's chest behind her until the third boy grappled to hold her waist.

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes which slammed closed as she began to writhe. She didn't quite know what to do to get out of this situation, but (Y/n) did whatever she could think of. She wriggled, she thrust her torso down and tried to whip her legs up in the air so they'd let her go. She shimmied her shoulders, desperate not to land with a bang on her head or back in case she injured herself or knocked herself out.

"Let me go!"

Another scream left her lips and she dug her nails viciously into the arm over her chest, continuing to writhe as the three of them struggled to hurry with her down the corridor. This was clearly an act of opportunity. They hadn't been anticipating this, (Y/n) could tell they were acting in the heat of the moment.

She wouldn't tell. If they put her down and let her go, she wouldn't tell on them and get them dropped down the scoreboard. But she needed them to put her down.

It felt like her lungs had popped when she managed to slam her foot into Alan's chest who was grappling with her legs. He dropped her. As soon as he did, the other two couldn't hold her up on their own and (Y/n) went down to the stone floor with such a bang she feared she had left a crack in the floor. Her lungs struggled to restart themselves and she laid gasping like a fish out of water.

Her eyes stung as she struggled to hold back her tears that were more out of pain than fear. And her lungs startled once again when a rough hand fisted in her hair and yanked her head back.

Her grazed hands scoured against the floor and her elbows straightened out as she tried to hold herself up while Peter yanked her head back so she was looking up at him. While he crouched down beside her, leaning so close he was sneering and almost spitting at her.

"You're putting out for him, that's why you're fifteen on the scoreboard."

Shivers coursed up and down (Y/n)'s spine causing her arms to tremble as she tried to hold herself up properly. Her lips curled up into a grimace and she closed her eyes when Peter leaned closer to her.

"No-"

"Maybe she'll put out for us." Alan's words made a sliver of fright dwell in (Y/n)'s stomach and she snapped her eyes open to look up at him.

They couldn't be serious. They couldn't try anything, they wouldn't get away with it and all of them had to know that.

Peter's hand in her hair tightened into a closed fist and (Y/n) swallowed down a yelp when he used her hair as leverage to yank her up to her feet. She tried to grapple for his arm, desperate for him to let go, but she couldn't do very much when his other hand gripped her chin and another pair of hands closed around her arms.

They steered her forwards, yanking her from side to side and causing her to stumble in almost every direction. She did her best to elbow them, to wriggle and become a nuisance in the hopes that they would stop and let her go or get tired of having to fight against her.

"No! G-get off!" She wouldn't let them do anything and she wouldn't just stand and let them mess with her. They needed to stop.

"We don't wanna play with you, we wanna get rid of you." Those words hit right at the pit of (Y/n)'s stomach, especially when she realised they were now close to the casm.

Hovering along the small corridor that acted as a ledge towards the edge of the casm. (Y/n) couldn't bring herself to look over the edge, not once despite the countless times she had walked down here. She couldn't lean over and look at the hundred foot drop that would kill anyone who fell down. Merciless.

And now these boys were trying to force her near the edge.

The will to fight burned bright inside of (Y/n) and adrenaline shot through her veins like a high as she bent forward and thrust her elbows back, trying to whack them and wind any of them so she could break free.

She screamed like a lion roaring into the wilderness when the third boy, Garrett- someone she barely knew- grabbed her ankles and yanked, pulling until (Y/n) fell and her front hit the ground. He tried to lift her by the ankles and Peter nodded, laughing maliciously as he tried to grapple for (Y/n)'s shoulders to lift her up. They were going to try and get her over the edge.

Garrett couldn't lift her when (Y/n) rammed her foot into his face. She heard the successful sound of his nose snapping like a twig before he groaned and dropped her ankles, letting her knees slam into the floor which shook her entire being.

"Get her over-"

"No!" (Y/n) shrieked and lifted her arm, using all the force she had to scratch her nails down Peter's face. She tried not to squirm when she felt her finger prod him in the eye and she felt the skin raking beneath her nails as she scratched deep enough to draw blood and leave sizzling burn lines down his face.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

It was Eric. His voice boomed through the air and echoed off the stone walls like he was a God among mortals.

But it was enough. His voice was enough to make them let go of (Y/n) just as her head was hanging close to the edge. Her already bruised and split knuckles scraped along the floor, gathering grit and dirt as she shuffled on her stomach until she was backed up near the wall. Near safety.

Her knees tucked up towards her chest and her arms coiled in on herself as she slammed her right side against the wall, not caring about the shockwaves it sent through her system. She just wanted to be safe. She wanted to be away from the ledge she had almost been thrown over.

It took some effort for (Y/n) to lift her eyes from the floor to look up and take in the scene around her.

Eric was stood with his hands on his hips and a face like thunder. She had never seen such confusion in his eyes and such clear rage across his face.

And the others looked petrified. Peter's chest was heaving and he had one hand cradling his scratched, bloodied face while his other hand flexed and shook at his side. Garrett was cradling his broken nose, knelt on the floor rather close to the edge of the casm which (Y/n) desperately wanted to throw him off right now. And Alan was stood to one side, both arms bound around his chest as he gasped for air and heaved for breath.

None of them answered. None of them had the words to explain what they had been doing when it was crystal clear what their intentions had been. (Y/n) was screaming, they were bloodied and beaten and they were near the casm. Added with the fact that (Y/n) was petrified and openly crying, it was clear what the three of them had tried to do to her.

"You think killing an opponent will get you on top of the scoreboard? Faction is family, you don't hurt your own." Eric snapped his jaw like a crocodile towards them but the way he sighed made him look like an annoyed parent who was fed up with his kids.

They were in trouble. They would be at the bottom of the scoreboard for this. They could have healthy competition with each other. They could fight in the ring and get grumpy and be annoyed, but that was it. They couldn't take that anger out on each other when they weren't training. They couldn't purposely intimidate or beat or attack a fellow member of the faction. They were all family in the end and this wasn't how family treated each other.

(Y/n) couldn't breathe.

Her lungs were burning, her eyes were stinging and her face was sopping wet as tears flushed her skin that she couldn't be bothered to hide.

When Eric tried to reach his hand down for her, he seemed a little more than surprised when (Y/n) slapped his wrist away and shuffled back. She didn't want his help. She didn't want him touching her. She didn't want any of them touching her; she just wanted to get away.

Eric sighed and held his hands out at his sides like he had no idea what to do when (Y/n) scurried to her feet. He watched her with a sense of sadness as she used the wall as leverage and stumbled away from them. He had a feeling he knew exactly where she was going and he didn't blame her, she hadn't done anything wrong.

He would have to remember to go easy on her over the next few days, she had fought for her life tonight and that earned her some points on the scoreboard and some respect from him.

(Y/n) heard the distinct sound of a slap and it echoed off the walls almost like a gunshot would have resonated, but she didn't look back to see which of them Eric had lashed out at.

She didn't care.

She wanted all three of them to be thrown off that casm.

Gasps and stuttering breaths left (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to swipe her sleeve against her eyes to clear her vision, but it didn't work very well. She still couldn't see where she was going, everything was a blur of grey and black with speckles of white in the mix.

She had to use her initiative and memory to guide her towards the stairs which she ended up crawling up like a toddler or some kind of deformed dog. Her body succumbed to trembling by the time she half jogged, half stumbled down the corridor towards Tobias's room.

It seemed rather like him to not bother locking the door, and (Y/n) was grateful. She was grateful that when she grabbed the handle and shimmied the door, it swung open like it had been expecting her all along.

Suddenly it didn't matter about calling out and alerting Tobias that she had found her way to his room and entered without knocking. All (Y/n) cared about was getting inside and staying away from everyone else; every possible source of danger and threat.

As soon as she was in the room, (Y/n) slammed the door closed behind her and fumbled to twist the lock to keep herself safe and secure.

Her eyes closed tightly until it became painful and her body slumped down to the cold floor that was soothing against her burning skin. She didn't bother trying to crawl into the room, she had no more energy left for that. (Y/n) shuffled back until she was against the wall and coiled her knees up to her chest.

Her trembling arms bound around her knees, locking them in place and her head dropped forward like her neck had snapped, slamming her temple onto her knees. She couldn't breathe as she began to rock back and forth, gasping, crying and heaving to gain a little bit of air.

"What the fuck-" Anger bubbled up in Tobias's voice when he heard the sound of his door slamming shut.

No one had knocked, no one had called out his name or asked if they could come in but clearly someone had waltzed straight in without an invitation. He didn't like the sound of that. He wasn't used to getting visitors to his room, barely anyone wanted to bump into him when walking around the buildings they claimed as Dauntless; why would someone come up to his room?

A deep frown set into his features as he wandered out the bathroom, jeans hung low on his waist and his shirt laid out on the bed which he didn't bother to grab in his haste to get to the door.

He didn't reach the door before all the anger dwindled out of his system and he was left with a wave of confusion and paranoia washing over him like the sea coming in across the sand.

"(Y/n)?" Her name fell from his lips in a hollow whisper as his brows furrowed and his lips curled into a grimace.

What had gone on since he saw her a few hours ago?

Tobias let himself scuff down to his knees on the floor once he was close enough to where (Y/n) was curled up beside the door. He shuffled closer until his knees were almost touching her feet but he wasn't sure whether to reach out for her or not when he realised how badly she was trembling. She looked like she was in shock.

Her face was buried down into the top of her knees, her arms were bound so tightly around her knees that she was going to hurt herself and she could barely breathe with her legs pushed up against her chest like that.

He took the risk and reached his hands out, carefully sliding his hands up (Y/n)'s arms until he was holding onto her just below her shoulders. His thumbs glided up and down her skin and he tilted his head down, trying to wait for her to look up at him, but she wouldn't lift her head.

"Baby what's the matter, what's happened?"

He couldn't very well do anything until he knew why she was so upset and what had happened. She could be hurt, she could have seen something, she could have been in an altercation. Hundreds of thoughts sped through Tobias's mind like lightning and he didn't like the sound of any of them.

When he didn't gain a response, Tobias sighed and slid his hand down to reach for her chin. He was careful and as gentle as he could be when he lifted her head so they were finally looking at one another. The tears pouring down her face made his heart lurch up into his throat while he tilted his head down a bit more until their gazes locked and she finally looked at him.

There was a sense of fear in her eyes that Tobias had never seen before, and that he wished never to see again. His thumb traced along her chin and up towards her lower lip and he leaned in closer until their temples were touching. Something broke inside of him when he watched another tear cascade down her face and he saw how hard it was to stop her lips from wobbling and letting out the broken sound she was holding at bay.

It took a few seconds for (Y/n) to gather enough air to speak without crying and it made her feel weak. She was Dauntless now, breaking down after an altercation like this wasn't what they were supposed to do. But no one else in the faction had almost been tossed over the side by their own group.

She had to divert her eyes down to Tobias's chin because looking into those dark brown eyes felt like a death sentence. And she knew she would never be able to tell him what happened if she was staring into his eyes.

"Peter, Alan and Garrett, t-they tried… tried to throw me down the c-casm. Said you're raising my score."

She wanted desperately to tilt her head down and bury her face back in her knees, but that proved impossible with Tobias still holding her chin. She was forced to see the lines appear on his face and watch how his muscles tensed and his jaw tightened until his teeth seemed like they were going to grind and break apart. But it was the way his eyes narrowed and a look of pure rage fuelled them that made (Y/n) want to cower down and hide.

"Did they hurt you?" His voice had never sounded so deep and it came with a low rumbling in his chest that was starting to feel an incessant fire surging throughout his body.

He watched as (Y/n) moved one shaky arm to wipe her eyes with her sleeve before she shook her head. "Eric caught them."

Her throat felt tender where one of them had practically gotten her into a headlock. Her chest was even worse than it had been from her fight with Peter earlier in the day and she was definitely bruised, but it was nothing that wouldn't heal. The scrapes and abrasions she had gathered tonight would heal, they weren't anything to worry about.

(Y/n) knew she was lucky. She could have smacked her head when they kept dropping her. She could have broken something in the scuffle to get away from them. And she knew she was forever lucky that Eric had been there at that exact moment, or else something worse might have happened.

She might have gone down the casm or she could have ended up knocking one of them down, and that may have been worse. They would have branded (Y/n) as a bad person, said she did it on purpose and she wouldn't have any way to defend herself or prove that they had been the ones to attack her.

When Tobias mumbled a gruff but quiet "Come here," (Y/n) tried to stop herself from tensing up and let her muscles go limp when he reached across for her. She wasn't sure whether he was going to try and get her up from the floor and take her to the bed or the bathroom.

But he didn't seem to have either of those things in mind. Instead, Tobias looped both his arms around her waist and pulled her across until she was sitting on his lap.

(Y/n) wriggled her legs around to curl them over his hips and she looped her shaking arms around the back of his neck, clinging to his front like a baby monkey of sorts. Her face burrowed down into the crook of his neck which caused him to shiver.

She could feel his hand splaying out in the centre of her back, trying to pin their chests together. Tobias wanted to tuck (Y/n) into his chest, to keep her safe and as close to his own heart as he could manage.

His lips attached to the side of her head but it didn't stop (Y/n) from being able to feel how tense he was and how each breath was laboured. He was trying his best not to implode. He was holding himself together when he desperately wanted to go off on a tangent and murder those three boys that had decided to mess with (Y/n). His girl.

It was comforting when Tobias began to rock back and forth, ever so slowly and very carefully like he wasn't sure whether the movement would be appreciated, but he knew he needed to do something.

"I… I don't wanna go back to the dorms, if th- if they're still there-"

"You're not going back there. You can stay here with me."

Tobias cut her off before she could even finish her trail of thought. She didn't want to go back to the dorms where all the other initiates would be. She didn't want to stay there if those three would be allowed back in there.

What if the others found out what happened? They might side with (Y/n), or they could agree that Tobias was giving her points and also bear a grudge against her. They might try and be spiteful and hurt her, and (Y/n) couldn't deal with anyone else turning on her like that. Those three were enough.

But she didn't have to go back. Tobias didn't want her leaving his sights. He didn't want (Y/n) to go back there and be with the others when three of them had just attacked her because she was doing better than them and they were afraid of becoming factionless.

She could stay here, Tobias didn't care how it looked or if anyone tried to say anything. She would be safer here with him and that was the point. He wasn't going to have this happen again, (Y/n) might not be so lucky if this occurred again.

"They won't be in this faction after tomorrow; they just sealed their fates." Tobias's tone was calmer than before, but his words were anything but.

He knew Eric would be on the same train of thought. They couldn't allow any of the newbies to act like this and think they still had a chance to stay in Dauntless. And their own families and factions wouldn't have them back after leaving and being in Dauntless for weeks. They had made their choice, and now they would have to deal with the consequences.

The rest of Dauntless might not feel safe, but at least here, sat on Tobias's lap, entangled in his arms, (Y/n) knew she was safe.

She pressed her lips against the side of his throat, breathing in his scent as she finally felt herself beginning to calm down. She was safe here. She wouldn't be running into Peter, Alan or Garrett anytime soon. Eric would be dealing with them right now and if he didn't, they'd better pray if Tobias found them in the morning.

Abs 😮‍💨

When it hits 9 pm and I pull out this combo:

Ps: I have severe writers block. Help

absolutely gutted

ミdaddy issues

part one | part two

🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader

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

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, spare me.” Anjali mumbles sourly.

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

That’s when another voice cuts in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Panopyra.” You breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s Fike that notices you first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, Quaritch speaks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It poisonous?”

You hesitate a moment. “...No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You ask suspiciously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You go entirely ignored as the two soldiers roar boisterously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” You shriek, launching yourself forward. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geiszler creeps into the small workroom a few days later. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geiszler nods awkwardly, looking distinctly guilty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next pause is much longer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That dildo. You ever use it?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer the question.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, fuck.” You squeak, eyes wide. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, you can’t help but snicker yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” You breathe, starting to smile. “Okay.” A little flustered now, you start to push yourself up into a sitting position, embarrassed about your spread legs. “Um… where’s my underwear?”

Quaritch grunts as though he doesn’t care for the question in the least. “D’you need them?”

“Yes!”

That big, stupid smug grin again. You’d dearly love to smack it off his face, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He doesn’t make any effort to seek out your lost panties, but you can’t be too irritated with him when he keeps nipping so insistently at the base of your neck, leaving hot twinges of pain-pleasure in the wake of his mouth.

“Asshole.” You say, though without any heat. Your eyes slide closed, enjoying his rough tongue against your collarbones. “Hey. You never told me why you came looking for me, anyway. Was it just to laugh at me?”

Finally, Quaritch raises his head. This close, you allow your eyes to trace over his face; his features are so alien, big and bold and more expressive than he intends. His ears twitch, and you fight back a smile at the sight. Sweet.

“Brought you more of that damned plant water.” He grunts. “It’s on your desk.”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately try to sit up, pushing roughly at his chest. “What?”

Quaritch allows you to push him away, though it’s not without an irritated sort of groan. Still though, he doesn’t look annoyed as he steps back to allow you to scramble off the counter he’s had you propped up on. If anything, his swishing tail reveals his sense of satisfaction.

Your knees nearly buckle when you hop down on the floor, but Quaritch’s enormous hand wraps around your elbow and keeps you upright. You don’t pause to try and regain your balance – you’re too busy trying to stagger over to your own messy workspace, your eyes wide and fixated on the sight of a sample beaker perched atop your desk.

“No way. No fucking way-!” You crow, your face splitting into an irrepressible grin. “Holy fuck!”

If possible, this sample is even bigger than the one that Wainfleet and Fike had smashed all over your notes. You take it in with disbelief, your hands reaching for it eagerly.

“A sample this size will let me do all the tests I need for my dissertation and more,” You breathe, awed. “I can- oh, wow. I’m going to finish my whole thesis. I’m going to get my motherfucking PhD.”

Quaritch’s mouth quirks, clearly amused by your foul mouth. He leans back against one of the spare desks just so he can watch you fuss over the sample he’s brought. 

“Do I get something in return?” He asks, and you can feel his big golden eyes dropping down over the length of your legs. His gaze feels even more heated now, as though knowing exactly what’s under your dress has lit some sort of fire in him.

You snort, stepping over to the sample fridge with the beaker clasped very carefully in your hands. 

“You certainly do not.” You say archly, hoping to maintain an aura of aloofness as you tug the fridge door open and place your precious sample carefully inside. “As far as I’m concerned, this sample can be considered reparations. If you bring me a sample of panopyra sensory tissue, however… then we can talk about rewards.”

You half wonder if maybe that was too bold, but Quaritch’s next chuckle holds an edge of heated delight. It seems like he wasn’t lying about liking a little fire. You’re so distracted by the careful tucking away of your sample that you jolt when you feel huge blue hands coming to land at your waist, tightening over your hipbones.

When he leans in to murmur in your ear, you shudder helplessly at the rumble of his chest. 

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart,” He mumbles, a hand reaching to stroke boldly over the curve of your ass. “And maybe next time we can get going without you wearing this damn fridge as a hat.”

he’s so dreamy

in love w this😋😋

dark but just a game

just you and your brother's best friend who is completely off limits.

warnings: bbf!ellie , top!ellie , bottom!reader , oral sex (r!receiving) , fingering (r!receiving) , scissoring , slightly mean!ellie at first , then loser!ellie shows up , she's actually a simp

●○●○●○●○●

ellie. your brother's best friend for as long as you can remember. always around, always being so... ellie. when she's not ignoring you, she's picking on every little thing you do. you're excited talking about something? she tells you to shut up. you're walking in the living room of your own house? she tells you to leave. but the thing is, this type of behavior is specifically directed at you. everyone else, and i mean everyone else, always talks about how nice she is. about how good she is at patrols, how kind she is to the people of jackson, how every single kid in town likes her. jesus, even the horses seem to be affectionate towards her. you don't understand why she always had such a distaste for you. you might be overreacting a little bit, cause that's what you do, but it really bothers you cause you also think she's nice, kind, and cool. so you're always, subtly, trying to get her attention. the only thing you're not aware about is that ellie is doing the same thing. but in her own twisted way.

today is one of these days where you're at your house and find ellie walking around like she owns the place.

"what are you even doing here?" ellie rolls her eyes when you two bump into each other at the kitchen. she does her best to look cool in front of you, crossing her arms and making a face that she thinks it's intimidating.

"i live here." you stare at her like she's stupid. which is not too far from reality. you take a look at how her lightly toned biceps are flexing. she's totally not doing that on purpose. it's not like she always wears her sluttiest tank tops around you cause four years ago she heard you talking about how you're into arms to one of your friends. yeah, it's not like that at all, if you ask her.

"in the kitchen?" she raises an eyebrow like you're the stupid one. what a smart ass.

"i'm sorry, ellie, may i get a glass of water from my own fridge?" your tone is dripping with sarcasm, and she chuckles. ellie bows stupidly in front of you and points to the fridge.

"go ahead." she talks as if she's doing some kind of charity, a mocking grin plastered on her face. her eyes are attentively following you as you walk to the fridge.

"i'm grown now, ellie. i don't need supervision to be in the kitchen." you roll your eyes and she just keeps staring at you with a blank expression. "what?"

"what are you wearing?" her voice is quieter now. if you didn't know ellie, you'd say she looks nervous. "i mean, this is a family house." she adds, trying to seem playful. you look down at your oversized white shirt and... that's all. all you're wearing. in your defense, you thought you were home alone. but ellie always pops up in the corners like a ghost.

"my pajamas... or something like that." you shrug, feeling a little embarrassed. ellie simply nods. whatever. she heads to the living room, crashing on the sofa. you quietly follow her and just stand there, watching her roll a blunt. she's pretty much back to ignoring you now. her hands are fast and skilled. she lights up the joint and takes a hit. you're still awkwardly standing there when she turns on the video game console. you just want her attention.

"ok, you can play." ellie sighs and rolls her eyes. "just don't... remind me you're here." she tosses one of the controllers to your side without even sparing you a quick glance. she brings the blunt to her lips again, not sharing it with you. she's not taking the risk of looking stupid in front of you just because of an... indirect kiss. yeah, she's ridiculous.

"manners?" you raise an eyebrow at her actions. everyone knows that a joint is supposed to be shared. she's always doing petty things like this when you're around.

"you get manners when you get your own weed." she blows the smoke on your face, just to piss you off. you roll your eyes. what a child. the game starts. "don't start whining when i beat your ass." she looks focused with her tongue poking out of her mouth, and she is, indeed, beating your ass. you groan.

"you're so not fun, ellie." you blurt out, eyebrows furrowed in anger and she snickers. oh, she loves this.

"i said no whining. jesus, it's just a game. what a bad loser." ellie says as if she didn't purposely use every skill she has to beat you in seconds. she's bitchy like that.

"it's just a game, huh?" you cross your arms as you give her a sour glance. you're tired of her always having the upper hand. you're gonna play a different game with her right now. "what are you even doing here anyway? my brother's not home."

"it's none of your business." she looks away, and suddenly the blunt on her hand seems to be the most interesting thing in the world. got her.

"aww... you just wanted to see me?" your mocking tone makes her ears get slightly red. there it is.

"shut up." she grunts, still not looking directly at you. yes, she wanted to see you. in fact, she always does. her heart begs to see you every day, even if it's just to bicker with you and piss you off. she just wants your attention.

"is someone feeling lonely?" you tuck her hair behind her ear, and ellie suddenly forgets how breathing works. what are you doing? "you just want to be touched a little, don't you?" your whisper in her ear makes ellie fully blush. she didn't expect this turn of events, but she's not moving away from your touch.

"i..." she whispers back, her gaze glued on the ground. her mind is racing. she wasn't expecting this at all.

"hm?" your hands find their way to her hair, and you start massaging her scalp. she melts. ellie leans closer to your touch, and she's not sure what to do as her heart beats faster and faster. "you're so cute when you shut up." you whisper, making your lips brush against her jaw. her breath hitches. she leans in closer, wanting more with her heart pounding wildly. you laugh.

"what?" she mumbles, embarrassed. she knows you two shouldn't be doing this. ever since you were kids, your brother has been overprotective of you. he can't stand it when his friends try to have their way with you simply because they are his friends and you, his little sister. it's weird for him. ellie knows this. still, she's not making any effort to get out of your trap.

"you're dirty, ellie." she looks like she was hit by a car. her eyes, wide, and her breath, shaky. "you know that, right?" you start to firmly caress her thigh, and now she's trembling. "this is wrong..." your whisper is like a spell, making her dizzy from the thrill, but also from the guilt of it all.

"um..." she tries to you something. anything. a 'stop'. but her mouth doesn't seem to have the ability to form words. this is wrong. this is wrong. this is wrong. but it's so good...

"you wanna fuck your best friend's little sister, huh?" your kiss her neck, your hand closer and closer to... it. "he's gonna be so mad at you..." ellie shivers, her breath even more shaky. she closes her eyes tightly, not believing this is happening. she tries to get away from you, but her body isn't cooperating right now. you firmly cup her pussy, and she gasps. "are you enjoying taking advantage of me?"

"you know that it's not... like this..." her voice is weak and needy. you straddle her thigh and she whimpers. she's starting to panic and she looks pathetic. how far are you going to take this?

"you're filthy." you whisper in her ear, and she shakes her head with a miserable expression. you're gonna kill her.

"you're... the filthy one..." she swallows hard, not knowing where this is all leading. she's shaking and breathing rapidly, but you have control of her now. you're teasing her in all the right ways, and she's barely able to respond.

"me? but i'm so shy..." you bury your head in the crook of her neck, gently sucking on her skin. ellie's heart is pounding like it never did before, but she's enjoying every second of it, even if her brain is telling her it's wrong.

"you're not shy at all..." she mumbles breathlessly, her entire body trembling. you're not. you've never been. not in situations of that kind, at least. all these years, you've watched ellie from afar, hearing her talk about random girls to your brother, and you felt jealousy build up inside you. not... not cause you like her... or something. it's just that... you know you can be better than them. you're gonna show her. but for now, you're messing with her a little bit. this is just a fun game for you. yeah. just a game.

"oh, i am... i don't even know what i'm doing." you blink your eyes at her. ellie's heart rate goes up even higher. you're making no sense. you're not even shy. you're just playing her like a puppet.

"you know exactly what you're doing." she whispers, exasperated. she's frustrated, annoyed and horny. very horny. this is not fair. she's always had her little fantasies about what she would do to you if she had the chance, but you're nothing like she expected. you are a tease. you're breaking her.

"i bet my brother wouldn't think that... right, els?" you're getting a kick out of this situation. it's way too fun for you. ellie, on the other hand, is on the verge of a heart attack. she can't do this. she can't do this. she can't do this.

"i s-should... i need to go." she whispers, trying to push you away. if she really wanted, she could do it easily. she's stronger than you, after all. but something is telling you that ellie wants to stay right here in this moment.

"but i didn't even get to show you my new panties..." you mumble as you play with the hem of your big oversized shirt. ellie's jaw drops. what the fuck. you can't do this to her.

"what?" she asks, her voice hoarse. when you press your body against hers, she shuts her eyes hard. she can feel every little curve of your body.

"they're pretty... but they're not here." you start. "i'm not wearing anything right now." you whisper the last part in her ear, and ellie is about to faint.

"you're not wearing anything?" she asks, like she's fucking deaf. maybe she is. maybe you broke her to a point where she's losing all her senses. her voice is still raspy from the shock and her is mind spinning.

"not even a bra..." you gently hold her hand and make her grab your breasts. ellie looks at you like you just stabbed her with a knife. her heart is beating so fast that she's afraid it'll jump out of her chest. her hand is trembling when she hesitantly palms your chest.

"oh god..." it's all she can say as she bites her lips, trying to hold in a noise. you're not wearing anything at all. she can feel your hardened nipples under the fabric of the shirt. this is so not fair to her.

"what were you saying again? something about going home?" you start moving your hips back and forth on her thigh, and she buries her head on your shoulder, her body giving up. she's weak. you have her just where you want.

"please... i can't..." she mumbles, her voice so needy. poor thing. but then her hands grip your hips tightly, as if she doesn't want to let go. you smile. that's what you like to see.

"your hands are so strong... and pretty..." you keep moving faster and faster, her flexed thigh giving the exact amount of pressure you need on your clit right now. her tattoed arm tenses up, making her veins pop. you almost cum at the sight.

"y-you feel even better..." ellie whispers, her hands massaging your hips. she's getting lost in all these feelings you're giving her right now. her brain is mushy and she's completely at your mercy.

"yeah? you like it how i grind my pussy on you?" ellie whimpers at your words. you take that as a yes. "give me a kiss..." you mumble, still moving up and down. she eagerly slams her lips on yours, you two sharing a messy and needy kiss. she moves her hips to match your rhythm, unable to help herself. she's giving you everything you want now. your soaked pussy presses against her clothed one, making a mess all over the fabric of her jeans and it feels so good. her hands are all over you, squeezing your boobs, your ass, your waist. her lips are hungry, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving marks that you'll have to deal with later. she's not even thinking. she just wants more of you.

"take it... take it off...." she mumbles into your lips as she lifts your shirt, throwing it into the air.

"you seem very eager for someone who can't stand me..." you try to tease her a little to show that you don't care about this at all, thank you very much, but ellie is not even listening. she blinks hard, her eyes glued to your body as if she's in a trance. "it's ok. you can touch me... anywhere you want." you add quietly, suddenly feeling kinda shy with all the attention. ellie nods eagerly, burying her face on your boobs. of course that's where she wants to touch first. she kisses it and squeezes it, looking up at you from time to time as if you are a goddess incarnated as a human. her hands palm your ass, pulling you closer to her as she takes one of your hardened nipples into her mouth. a soft moan escapes your lips. your fingers are tangled in her auburn hair, pushing her head onto your body harder.

you're feeling... weird. every time ellie gives you one of her sweet looks with those gorgeous green eyes, it feels your heart is being thrown directly into an electric fence. it's making your palms sweat and your stomach is... oh, no...

"what?" ellie stops her make out session with your boobs. she looks so pretty, lips glistening with saliva, face flushed, freckles all over her cheeks, furrowed brows and... "hey? are you okay?"

"you're very pretty." you want to slap yourself in the fucking face. why the fuck did you just say that?

"oh..." she scratches the nape of her neck awkwardly. she looks away so you don't see her pink cheeks. "thank you." you want to grab her face and kiss all over it, tell her how much you like her, and oh my god. what is wrong with you? you have a frown on your face. when ellie sees that she timidly whispers: "we should stop, right?"

"no, no... not at all." you press your lips onto hers again, in an attempt to forget... that. ellie is caught by surprise, but soon she is kissing you back with just as much passion. her hands cup your face as you kiss, your bodies falling onto the couch. she's now on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist. her hands slide down your torso, feeling your soft skin and she closes her eyes for a few moments, almost as if she can't believe this is happening.

"can... how... should i..." she stutters and you can see the way her hands are trembling. ellie killed and dealt with countless infected by herself, and yet she had never been so nervous in her life. all because of a pretty girl.

"here." you lock eyes with her and gently grab her wrist, guiding her hand between your legs. her cheeks get more pink, if that's even possible.

"ok." she sucks in a deep breath. "here..." her fingers cautiously touch your slit, taking in your wetness. she bites her lip, her gaze glued to the sight. you slowly part your legs even more, and ellie blinks hard. "prettiest... prettiest fucking pussy.... i've ever seen..." you're sure she's never seen that many. ellie's not a player, you know that... she's more of a romantic. when she likes a girl, she likes a girl. and you hope she likes you. you have to fight the urge to close your legs when you look away from her. you're... nervous. as much as you hate to admit it. you feel her giving your clit a sweet little peck, and you shiver. "pretty..." she mumbles again almost as if she's in a daze. her lips start to place a few kisses on the inside of your thigh. "so... fucking... pretty..." her fingers gently rub your clit in little circles as her lips get closer and closer to your dripping cunt. you look down, and caress her hair as you bite your lip. ellie gives you another one of her Sweet Looks™ before closing her eyes and diving into you.

"oh, god..." your back is arched as she eats your pussy like she's never tasted anything better before. your legs are both resting on her shoulders as she pushes her face deeper and deeper into you, her hands gripping on your ass cheeks. she licks and slurps everything you have to give her, leaving your hips trembling and making your grip on her hair get stronger. she's moaning into your cunt and basically humping the couch under her, getting so worked up just from eating you out. "ellie, f-fuck... k-keep doing this..." your thighs start to press against each other, trapping her head and ellie nearly goes cross eyed. she's even more hungry now, your juices all over her skin. her veiny hands pull your body against her, making you fuck yourself on her face. you roll your trembling hips on her mouth and she grunts. It's like she's getting as much pleasure from this as you are.

"i'll keep... doing this..." her babbles get lost in the heat of the room when she slides two slender fingers inside you. she latches her greedy mouth on your clit again, and start fucking you so good. her hands are fast and skilled, after all. at this point you can't hold back any noises and ellie's going crazy. she's the one making you feel like this. not the girl from the stables, not the guy from the pub, it's HER. it's on her fingers you're clenched around, it's on her face your hips are pressed against. and it's for her that you're gonna cum. "gonna give it to me?" her voice is shaky and needy as she gasps for air. "please, give it to me..."

"y-yes... fuck, ellie..." oh, that she's doing. you close your eyes tightly, and next thing you know, a tingle is spreading all over your body as your hips squirm and you bite your hand to hold back a scream. ellie gently pecks her way up your body and cups your face with both hands. she's trying her best to hold back the I love you that wants to escape her mouth. instead, you two share a sloppy and lazy kiss.

"i want more..." she mumbles as her lips brush against yours. your hands slide down her body, caressing her hips and abdomen. ellie lets her head fall into your neck as she tries to calm down. her boxers are fucking soaked. unwittingly, her hips buckle against your body. she's needy. she just wants you.

"shhh..." you whisper as you kiss her biceps. couldn't miss the chance. "gonna take care of you now, ok?" ellie feels like crying. she's desperate. you feel her nodding in the crook of your neck and you hug her tightly. you're feeling... a lot. for her. but you can worry about that later. right now... "let's take this off..." you gently tug at the fabric of her jeans.

"yes..." she whispers in a whine. as if by magic, she's naked. your gaze instantly falls to her perky tits and next thing you know, your tongue is on her pretty pink nipples. ellie becomes a whimpering mess, hands gripping on the flesh of your ass, pushing your body against hers. it's messy. your hands are groping her biceps, because why not, as you suck on her nipples like it's candy. then you press you cunt against hers and ellie loses it.

"need... need to..." she pushes you, making you lie on your back on the couch and sits on top of you, fitting her pussy into yours. "oh, shit..." she throws her head back, eyes tightly shut, as you two start grinding against each other. ellie grips your thighs and throws one of your legs over her shoulder, placing sloppy kisses on your heel as you roll your hips on her. "this is... so fucking..." ellie is babbling as she pounds onto you harder. if the noises leaving your lips weren't enough, the wet, squishy noises hanging on the air were dirty. it was erotic. and so... "so fucking good... oh my god..."

"ellie..." you whine as you feel your lower belly tightening. you're so sensitive that your eyes are wet with tears. you can't see anything at this point, just a very blurry ellie slamming her pussy against yours like she's trying to fuck a baby into you. as if that's possible.

"fuck... fuck... gonna fucking cum all over you... shit..." ellie's eyes are tightly closed, her lip between her teeth almost drawing blood. she's pretty much using you at this point, her hips moving in an insane pace. she needs it. bad. you hands find their way to her tits and you pinch her nipples making ellie gasp. her pretty green eyes roll to the back of her head as her body falls on top of you with a silent moan, her warm sticky slick coating down her thighs. she's still trembling when you hug her, the two of you holding each other, trying to catch your breaths.

"so..." you start after a few moments of silence and ellie shushes you. you giggle softly. "what?"

"don't even... just shut up..." she sweetly pecks your lips and you feel that again. that weird feeling from earlier. you're scared of what it could possibly mean. ellie, noticing your expression, whispers: "hey... what's up?"

"i'm feeling weird... that's all." you mumble, hiding your face on her shoulder. she gently caresses your hair with so much affection that you don't even know what to do with yourself. so much for not being shy.

"weird? like.. good weird? or bad weird?" unlike you, she seems completely comfortable with the situation, her arms wrapped around you as you timidly snuggle against her body.

"that's the point... i don't know." your voice is muffled since you have your face pressed firmly onto her shoulder. "probably... probably good, yeah..." you admit. "don't laugh at me."

"i'm not laughing!" she is. a little. just a little. "it's just... i don't know..." ellie is happy. she's the happiest girl in this shitty town right now. when she looks at you again, she sees that you still have your face hidden. "hey... come on, look at me." you slowly look up at her, and for the first time, she sees your eyes filled with hesitation. "it's alright... i got you..." her gentle touch finds your cheek. "we'll figure it out."

"really?" your whisper is quiet and shy.

"i promise." she adds. maybe you don't have as much control of this game as you thought.

achievement unlocked

fall in love with your brother's best friend.

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