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#more reason to do more of these ask things they’re fun :)
cloudcountry · 17 hours
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SUMMARY: you and idia prepare for a fun day at the beach!
COMMENTS: this is my entry for my own event, sweet shroud summer 2024!! be sure to check it out here!! (shameless self promotion)
IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT I READ THROUGH THIS ONCE AND I DONT FEEL LIKE DOING IT AGAIN
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If you asked Idia, today would have been a perfect day to stay inside. The air was warm, the sun was out, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. That was the perfect weather to sit in with the air conditioning and a tub of ice cream, munching on some instant ramen noodles and binge watching one of his favorite anime or absolutely wiping the floor with some idiots in his new favorite game.
If you asked Idia’s partner of two years now, they would disagree.
They came knocking on his door late in the morning, calling his name through the door. Idia, still in his pajamas, scrambles to put a hoodie over his head to at least look somewhat presentable. He briefly checks his appearance in his computer monitor, and once deciding that you’ve definitely seen him looking worse, he cracks open the door.
He knows why he’s been so self conscious around you lately, the "summer body" season in full swing. He doesn’t like thinking about it. Regardless of his appearance though, you beam as if seeing him is the best thing that could have happened to you today.
“Hi.” you breathe, pupils blown as you take him in.
Idia scratches his arm awkwardly, shuffling his feet from behind the door.
“Um, yeah. Hi.”
You giggle, placing a hand on the door.
“May I come in?”
He lets you in, hurrying to clean up extra wrappers and misplaced mangas as you step into his room, eyes following his every move. He’s so cute when he gets nervous around you, shoving things into the various corners of his room to make it look cleaner even though you know his room has always been messy. He’s still in his pajama shorts and his fiery hair is even more untamed than usual.
It makes your heart flutter.
There’s a sweet sense of domesticity that bubbles up in your heart as you take in a sight nobody else has ever seen, the bare skin of his legs and the rolled up sleeves of his hoodie as he throws what looks like five instant ramen cups into a trash can by his desk.
His face is bright pink, and so are the tips of his beautiful beautiful hair.
You part your lips as he turns towards you, bashful and unsure, ducking his head before his hair. You giggle again and his heart picks up in his chest, sharp teeth gnawing at his lower lips. They’re chapped because he has yet to moisturize, and his heart jolts for an entirely different reason when he realizes you might be looking.
Why is he such a mess!?
“Idia, stop getting in your head, okay? Here.” you  dig through your unusually large bag and pull out some chapstick.
Idia flushes pink as you cup your hand in front of him. He places his chin in your palm obediently, and averts his eyes as you apply chapstick to his lips. He rubs them together when you pull away and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Cmere.” you gesture him forward, closer to you again, and Idia feels himself get even warmer.
You lean in and give him a quick peck, murmuring “sharing is caring” against his lips. He snorts at the cheesiness and you can tell his nose is crinkling in half fake half very real disgust. It’s okay—he can take the cringeworthy couple things if it's with you.
“So...um, what do you want to do today?” Idia asks, eyeing the giant bag you have slung over your shoulder. He knows you have a plan, but he doesn’t know if he’d call it a good one.
Yet.
“I’m so glad you asked!” you beam, setting your bag on the ground and rummaging through it, “I was thinking we could take a trip to the beach! When we were watching that anime last night, you said you wanted to try out some of the things they were doing and I knew I had to take you!”
Idia freezes, the scratching of his arm ramping up in intensity as you riffle through the bag. He hadn’t been expecting you to be paying attention to anything he said during that marathon, much less plan anything like this for today. 
“So I got us matching swimsuits, plus swim socks so we don’t poke our feet on anything.” you look up from your bag at him, smiling so brightly, “I wouldn’t want my baby getting hurt.”
Idia flushes even brighter at the pet name and you laugh, handing him a pair of swim shorts and a shirt. He silently thanks you for the cover up, and you two turn away from each other to change into your swim suits. He knows you won’t look at him when he’s changing but he can’t deny the anxiety that comes with being in the same room as you while he’s vulnerable, and so he changes as fast as he possibly can and tells you he’s done.
You take a little bit longer to change, but it isn’t long before you tell him he can turn around too.
He turns, and sure enough, you’re matching. He thinks you look so nice in that shade of blue, and little does he know you think very much the same.
“Can I help apply your sunscreen?” you ask, dangling a neon yellow bottle between your thumb and index finger.
“Are...are you sure?” he winces, “You don’t have to touch me.”
“Idia...I want to if you’ll let me. I don’t want you to burn.” you say softly, eyebrows furrowed.
It's like talking about himself like that hurts you.
“If...you wouldn’t mind...I’d like that.” he slumps down to the floor and tucks his head in between his knees, the tips of his hair turning bright pink again.
“Okay. Can you relax for me?” you ask gently, kneeling by his side.
He takes a few breaths before sitting up, turning to look at you. You beam as his eyes lock onto yours, and you pop the cap open. He holds out his hand to get his legs, and you squirt some into your palm to do his arms.
His arm hair is soft under your fingers as you rub the sunscreen in, making sure to hit every spot that the sun could possibly touch. You can feel his skin warming under your palms, and it makes a soft smile bloom across your face. You run your thumb over the inside of his wrist, and the pad of your finger catches on the tough tissues of his tendons. His fingers twitch at the contact, and you briefly find yourself fascinated by just how boney his wrists are. You sigh softly, your breath hitting his skin. He shudders, and you giggle.
“You know Idia...” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You’re very soft. And warm.”
He huffs in annoyance, but the sound is empty of animosity. His red face tells you everything.
When it’s time to move to his other arm, you scoot over to Idia’s other side and press a kiss to the top of his head as you pass. It flusters him to no end, but it's so important to you that he knows how much you love him. That you don’t think he’s filthy and full of sin, for one reason or another.
“Are you done with your legs?” you ask, rubbing the last bit of the cream into his upper arm.
He nods in affirmation, wrinkling his nose.
“I don’t like the way it feels on my skin at all.” he groans, rubbing his fingers together and wincing, “Especially my hands. Gross.”
“Then let’s get your hands washed, honey.” you set the sunscreen on the ground before getting up, offering him a hand when you’re steady on your feet.
He tries not to think about the pet name as he stumbles after you, letting you lead him down the hallway and into Ignihyde’s bathroom. There's another student in there washing their hands, and they gawk when they lay eyes on their Housewarden in a bathing suit.
“Hey there!” you greet cheerfully, dragging Idia past him, “Don’t mind us!”
Apparently seeing Idia like that and with another person was shocking enough that he just listened. Stumbling out of the bathroom like he’d seen a ghost, the door swinging shut behind him.
Silence. Then, you chuckle.
“Wow Idia, your dorm members do not grasp the concept of subtly at all.” you joke, bumping hips with him, “Now come on, let’s get the gross sunscreen feeling off our hands!”
You two wash your hands in silence, only broken by the occasional humming from you or him.
“Is that any better?” you ask once you two are done, and Idia nods slowly.
You take his hands again and lead him out of the bathroom, picking up the pace to make sure you make it to his room before he runs into anybody else. That one encounter was probably more enough for Idia today, especially when you’d insisted the two of you wear matching bathing suits.
“You look cute in it, by the way.” you mention, turning to look over at him, “I don’t think I said it before, but you look cute.”
He squeaks and hides behind his free hand, muttering the fastest “thankyou” you have ever had the pleasure of hearing.
Once you’re both settled back in his room, you sit with your legs criss crossed on his floor, and Idia sits beside you. Your knees are touching as you take out your phone, calling your transportation so you can Idia can arrive at the beach safely. He busies himself with picking up the sunscreen bottle from the floor and folding your clothes, placing them on his bed. The sheets are wrinkled and he tries to smooth them out, cheeks pink as he sets your clothes down next to his. You confirm the ride and put your phone away, standing up and catching his attention.
“While we’re waiting for the ride I figured we could go on a snack run. Would you mind going with me?” you ask, eyes searching his for any apprehension.
“Um...there’s going to be people there, right?” he murmurs, grasping at a chunk of his hair and running his fingers through the strands nervously, “I, um...I don’t want to go, if that’s okay.”
“Honey, of course it’s okay. I’ll be right back.” you reach out and take his hand, planting a kiss in the middle of his sweaty palm before pulling away.
“Ack—! Um, why did you do that? My hands are really sweaty and—”
“And I love you, that's why. Sweaty hands and all.” you interrupt, reaching for his other hand and peppering kisses all over it, “I’ll see you later, love.”
You smile and wave as you leave, shutting the door securely behind you. Idia stands awkwardly in the center of his room for a short while, unsure of what to do with himself now that you’re gone. He finds himself lowering himself to the floor once again, next to your bag. The top is open and next to the sunscreen he threw in there earlier is the scrunchie you always put in his hair. Next to that is a small journal, the blank cover giving it an air of mystery.
He shouldn’t look why would he look he should leave it alone—
He grabs the notebook and cracks open the first page.
The words date plan are scribbled out in your all too familiar handwriting at the top of a lined page. You used your favorite colors of ink, doodling hearts in the margins and using little blue flames as your bullet points.
Invite Idia to the beach to get him outside for once! Pamper him so he doesn’t feel too uncomfortable.
He expressed a lot of discomfort with unfamiliar sensations. Offer to apply sunscreen for him so he doesn’t have to get any of his hands. (Note: he does not like his legs being touched. If he holds out his hand to get his legs just give him some.)
Make sure to give him plenty of kisses and buy him ice cream. They have a limited edition Premo ice cream stand set up by the beach today.
His eyes fly over the page, heart fluttering in his chest. It’s so silly but it’s so you, putting so much effort into a guy like him. The absolute bottom of the barrel.
It’s like his favorite character’s SSR card just came home.
It’s like his favorite anime just got a beach episode.
It’s like you’re everything he’ll ever look forward to, all at once.
If Idia gets burned, make sure you take care of him later.
If Idia wants you to stay over afterwards, stay over with him and do whatever he wants for the night.
If Idia says ANYTHING bad about himself, make sure he knows that it's not true at all!
His face must be bright red right now, the tips of his hair hot pink. You have such a visible effect on him, no matter what you were doing but especially when you were praising him so sweetly. Making up cute dating plans like he's seen in anime, Giving him his own beach episode experience. Taking note of that new Premo ice cream that he knew was only at a few select beaches, and you picked a beach that had one just for him.
And Idia, if you find this and end up reading it, whether I showed it to you or you just got curious, I hope this shows how much I love you. I want you to know that no matter what, I’m always going to be in your corner, even if you shove me out I’ll come back, because I know you want me there. Maybe not forever, maybe not always, but so long as you let me come back to you and chip away at your walls, I’ll be there.
I love how pretty your hair is. It moves so gracefully, like an actual fire. I love how warm you are, and I love how careful your hands are. I love how small your wrists are and the curve of your elbows, I love your teeth and your lips and your eyes, I love how you shine when you talk about the things you love and I love how you look in black. I love how your face twists up when you’re annoyed and I love how you look when you get your favorite character in a gacha. I love how you’re always so dedicated to improving yourself and your craft, I love how sweet you are to me even though you think you’re being slick. I love how smug you get when you win and I love how you lean over and teach me how to play video games when I’m confused. I love how you let me learn on my own but still give me guidance when we have game nights. I love how you let me drag you places sometimes, I hope you know I’m so so thankful you let me. It will forever be special to me that you trust me to take you to my favorite places, and I hope soon we can go to a Premo concert together one of these days
 I’m sure I’ll love the way you swing your glow stick around, I’m sure I’ll love the way you’ll pass out on your bed after everything is over, I’m sure I’ll love the way you hold me as you sleep.
And if you let me,  I’ll love the way wrinkles form in your features, I’ll love your stretch marks, I’ll love the way your joints creak, I’ll love the way your hair turns gray. I’ll love the way you grow older and wiser but the way you’ll still be the same Idia.
If you let me, I’ll make silly little date plans every single outing we have. I’ll tell your mother all about them years from now and we’ll laugh, and I’ll debrief her on my next one. I’ll get your favorite colored pens and use them until I’m sure they’re dead, I’ll decorate my heart and my life with you because I don’t want anybody else.
If you let me, I’ll love you forever. My sweet boyfriend. You’re the smartest, most talented, kindest soul I have ever met. I want to treasure you for as long as I live, if you let me.
A gargled squeak escapes his lips as he sinks even deeper into the floor, falling over in the fetal position. His eyes are full of tears and his bottom lip is wobbling—argh, he has such an ugly crying face—and he knows he looks like a mess but after everything he just read his heart and mind are full of love, love, love.
You see a future with him. You actually do. You seriously, seriously do. Even after everything that happened at STYX. Even after everything he’s told you about himself and his family.
You’re just so impossible. How is he supposed to deal with so much affection at once!?
A knock on the door and a soft announcement of your presence is the only warning he gets before you enter his room, turning to shut the door behind you.
“So you’ll never guess what happened, Sam had a sale on ramune soda so I picked up a few—!” you finally turn around, freezing when you see your boyfriend on the ground, curled up around a familiar notebook.
“Um...I love you.” he chokes out, so quiet you barely hear it.
He turns over completely, eyes puffy and red and watery, and mouths it again, like no noise could come out of his throat even if he wanted it to.
Your eyes go wide at his quiet, tearful declaration. He must be overwhelmed.
You set down all the snacks before you take him into your arms, rubbing his back as he clings to you. It’s rare to see him like this, all vulnerable, but your expression goes soft when you think about that note you wrote for him.
You were vulnerable, and it hit him right in the heart.
He trusts you so much.
“I love you too. I love you so much.” you whisper against his forehead, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin you can find. His hair tickles your cheeks, brushing against your skin like individual caresses, like each and every part of his body loves and adores you.
Like every atom of him yearns for you.
“Let’s go get some Premo ice cream.” he sniffles, leaning into your touch as you wipe away his tears.
“Alright.” you smile affectionately, pulling the two of you up from your crumpled positions on the floor, “Our ride is probably going to arrive soon anyways.”
Idia helps you pack all of the snacks into your bag, but not before giving the journal one last hug when your back is turned.
He’s so lucky. It’s not just that letter that shows it either, he thinks. It’s the shiny ramune bottles and his favorite chips, it’s the candy you picked up and the fruit salad full of sweet, bright colored fruits. It’s the way you kissed his sweaty palms and applied sunscreen to his arms, it's the way you respected that he didn’t want his legs being touched, it’s the way you wrote down all of the things he knows you would have done anyway because you’re you and you’re wonderful.
He zips up the bag for you and slings it over his shoulder, shielding it with his body when you try to grab it. You roll your eyes playfully, getting the message. You go to open his bedroom door and Idia is right behind you, stomach twisting in anticipation. There’s a fair share of nerves, sure, but you’re right in front of him, shielding him like you always have, and when the hallway comes into view he lets you grab his hand and pull him outside.
The pair of you walk down the hallway and outside the building together, hand in hand. You only run into a few students, all of which are too occupied with their own things to gawk at Idia. It makes him feel less nervous and makes you feel better for him.
Sure enough, your ride arrives a little while after you reach the meetup spot, and before he knows it, he’s off on a beach episode adventure with you.
He hopes you won’t change your mind, and that it won’t be the last one you have.
But when he looks over at you and sees you already looking at him with a look that screams love, love, love, he knows for sure there will be more days like this one in his future.
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theitgirlnetwork · 2 days
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Earn It
Ch. 5: Pretend With Me
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Note: Hello! Thank you for all of the support you've all shown this story. Thank you for the notes, reblogs, messages, and comments I love interacting with you all! We've got our first time skip so I hope it's not too confusing. Once again, I'll remind everyone that the characters are meant to be just as complex as those in the movie and so they will do...questionable things. But that's part of the fun...not being them! So I hope you all enjoy! <3
Warnings: Cheating (fr this time y'all :(), explicit sexual content (MDNI!!!!!), small mention of disordered eating, and some strong language.
Taglist: @spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109
Present Day (California) :
“They won’t answer any questions about that, don’t bother asking. Make sure there’s at least one close up on the ring and we only film from the angles we discussed, understand me?” Kiely takes a deep breath, brushes her hands down her dress, straightening out the wrinkles at the bottom and noting to herself that she needs to stop by Target today to get a new steamer. 
This job is a big opportunity, she can’t afford to fuck it up. Out of all the applicants they decided to give her a chance. She pushes through the dark front doors, fixing a potted flower plant hanging near the doorway before glancing back sternly at the camera crew and closing the door. 
Kiely does wish that her trial week wasn’t the same week as this interview. 
She presses her finger to her earpiece to turn on the speaker as her heels click across marble floors, her steps are long strides. “Crews’ in place, we need a clear house, just the family. They want this in one take. Let’s go.” 
The blonde woman raises a shaky fist to the Grenadil African Blackwood door, knocking softly once before steeling herself and knocking more assertively the second time.
“Yeah?”
Kiely turns the cold golden door knob and stops right at the threshold of the master bedroom, her back rod straight as she addresses the people in front of her.
“Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson? They’re ready for you.”
12 Years Earlier:
3:22 p.m.: So, that smoothie that you recommended? It’s fucking disgusting.
Heaven giggles at her phone before flipping it over so she can’t see the front of the screen, sliding down into a split to complete her stretches. She hums in satisfaction to herself as she stretches forward to reach her front foot. It’s peaceful like this.
She loves coming to the studio early. After the bullshit classes she takes to remain eligible for the dance program, she rushes here to just dance. No other dancers, no teacher or choreographer watching. Heaven can just be with the choreography. 
She has a habit of getting fixated on a piece and doing it over and over until she masters it. Then, she does it over and over until it’s not fun anymore. It’s her award winning strategy, to actually fall in love with the pieces she dances to. 
For some reason, she was struggling to become Juliet. She knows she has the technique for the dance, that much is obvious. But something about this role wasn’t connecting for her. She just feels like she can’t force herself to give the vibe of a 15 year old girl whose parents were absent enough to let her fall in love with a 20 year old loser.
Oh and Romeo can’t fucking dance.
Correction. Peter who is supposed to be Romeo can’t fucking dance. 
Heaven stands from her split, grabbing her phone with her to respond to the text waiting for her, not noticing the uncontrollable smile that had formed on her face.
3:30 p.m.: It’s not supposed to taste good, it’s supposed to be good for you, Arthur.
They had been texting back and forth a lot since the birthday party. Not many phone calls, but messages here and there. They range from checking in to arguing about the various media they both consume. It’s like an unspoken agreement they have not to talk about Tashi or Patrick. Anytime they did the jokes would halt and suddenly Heaven would feel a rock in her stomach, unable to text back. 
Her phone buzzes again and before she can open the little white envelope on the screen she hears several sets of footsteps behind her. Without turning around she rushes over to put her phone in her duffle bag and heads back to the middle of the room, settling into first position next to Peter and staring tensely forward as they wait for the rest of the cast and the premier maitre de ballet, Madame Fontaine. Along with the older woman is her assistant choreographer, Fallon, the only other person who will acknowledge that Peter can’t fucking dance.
“Afternoon, all.” Madame Fontaine offers the group a brief, tight smile as she stands before them, her flats clicking on the stage. “Romeo, Juliet. We will work on the pair of pas de deux performances after warm-up.”
“Madame.” Heaven nods, turning to go to the bar toward the back of the room. She can feel Peter behind her, looking at her. His cheap ass cologne fills her nostrils as he leans forward to murmur in her ear.
“Think you can actually act like you at least like me today?”
Heaven slips into third position, facing forward as she continues through her warm up, shrugging at his question. “I don’t need to like you, Juliet needs to be in love with Romeo. The dance will show that.”
“Maybe if we spent some time together-”
“I’m in a relationship.” she dismisses.
“Really?” He scoffs. Gripping the bar Peter stretches his leg into the air, watching Heaven do the same, he strains to get his kick as high as hers. “What does your boyfriend do?”
“He’s a professional tennis player. So is my girlfriend.”
Peter’s brows furrow as he watches the woman in front of him wrap up her warm ups, cracking her neck absently as he stares at her. “You…so…”
“Okay.” Heaven huffs, turning to the man, craning her neck and fixing him with a wary look as she stands facing him with her arms crossed. “Yes, I have a boyfriend, his name is Patrick. I also have a girlfriend, her name is Tashi and she is the girl you saw here before. Yes, they are also together, no we’re not looking for a fourth and if we were it would never be you. No, we aren’t open so don’t ask me out again. And Peter, even if I was single, I would literally fucking never fuck someone who can’t do a simple fucking lift.” With that she pushes past him to find Madame Fontaine stopping when she hears him over her shoulder.
“Well maybe if you weren’t so heavy I could lift you easier.”
Heaven doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the insult, instead just pursing her lips and getting into the position for the first pose of the “Love Dance”, the first pas de deux of the piece. As she goes through the movements on the stage no one would be able to tell that Peter had said what he said. 
She holds him close and twirls prettily. She leans into him with all of the trust of the world as he butchers his half of the piece, failing in the lift not because of her weight, she tells herself, but because his hand placement is wrong. 
Heaven thinks logically, like Tashi would tell her to. Other people have lifted her before. It’s not her. 
So she can swallow the lump in her throat until after rehearsal is over.
“Answer.” Heaven bites her lip as she drums her fingers against the steering wheel, her phone is balanced between her cheek and shoulder, vibrating against her ear as it rings. “Tashi, answer.”
Hi, this is Tashi Duncan, leave a message after the beep, thanks.
She shouldn’t have come. Tashi has two matches this week, Pepperdine and then Princeton, she doesn’t need to be distracted. She doesn’t have time to be distracted. That’s not what they do to each other, she knows Tashi needs to focus before a match just like Heaven needs to be distracted before a performance. 
But after rehearsal ended, her focus on the beautiful dance, and getting her body to move the way it needed to to tell the story faded. Then all she was left with was the sound of Peter’s voice mixing with her mother’s and the personal trainer she’d hired her when she was only 10. And suddenly she found herself speeding down the road in a silent car, driving 5 hours and 13 minutes to Stanford.
She told herself as she weaved through the cars that she just needed to get away. That this was okay because she was supposed to be heading down the next day anyway. That she was only here to see Tashi. 
“Fuck.” The girl huffs, pulling the phone away so hard one of her hoop earrings falls out of her ear, tumbling to the floor as she dials another number. Unlike Tashi, he actually picks up.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hi, baby, hi.” She sits up against the leather seat. “Are you, um, busy, or…”
“Uh, no, not-not really.” Patrick’s muffled voice through the phone settles her nerves a little. “What’s up?”
“Nothing I just wanted to talk to you or something-” Heaven hears laughter and the clattering of glass in the background. She can faintly make out the words to Candy Shop playing in whatever bar he was pretending not to be in. “You’re out.”
“Babe, I can talk, are you okay?”
“Mhm.”
“I hate that ‘mhm’, ‘hm’ shit you guys do just…Heaven, just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I had, like, the most shitty rehearsal.” Heaven looks out at a couple of students stumbling drunkenly, shaking her head to herself as she sees a t-shirt with distinct letters spelling out “The Duncanator” on it. “The guy playing Romeo, he’s like a fucking idiot and he wants to fuck me-”
“Don’t most people?” 
“I’m not-” Heaven huffs out a breath, head dropping forward against the wheel in annoyance. This is who her boyfriend is. He makes jokes about serious things. He doesn’t take anything serious because it never fucking is. But what is she supposed to do? Berate him for trying to make her laugh when she’s upset. Get mad at him for perpetually being in a state of relaxation that she’s almost never in. Heaven doesn’t want to live in the land of not giving a fuck about anything, she isn’t built like that. “H-yeah. That’s funny.” she forces a giggle, scrubbing her hand angrily at the drops that managed to squeeze their way out of her eyes. 
“Good, you’re laughing, m’glad you’re feeling better.” 
“Yep, thank you, Patrick.”
“No problem, Hev, look I’m out right now but I’ll see you tomorrow right? You’re coming down to Stanford right?”
“Um, yeah.” She says staring out at the school buildings from the parking lot. “I’ll be there.”
After a couple more slurred jokes from her boyfriend who shouldn’t be drinking while on tour and a couple attempted calls to Tashi, Heaven climbs out of the car, deciding to just go to the girl’s building herself. 
She was determined not to go crawling to he who shall not be named. No. She would not see Art, because then he would give her that look. That look he does with his stupid monochromatic eyes that puppy dog look he gets when she’s happy, when she’s sad, when she’s anything. Like he’ll just do anything. It’s distracting and it makes her feel weird. 
And she’s taken. So, they’ll stick to texting, that’s safe. So, no, she won’t call him. Not to tell him about her shitty day. Not even to ask him where the actual hell Tashi’s building was. 
So instead she planned to wander aimlessly until she saw a building that looked familiar.
She walks along the cobblestone roads, squinting to find something that would remind her which direction she was supposed to be going in. 
“Heaven?”
The woman freezes at the voice behind her, cursing herself and whatever god that curated this situation as she slowly turns to see Art. “Arthur.”
Her breath catches as she gets a good look at him. He’s even hotter than she remembers, standing tall amongst a group of his teammates. His racket bag slung across his back, the strap tight against his chest that was currently filling out the dorky ass Stanford Men’s Tennis shirt that he was somehow making look like the sexiest outfit ever. 
This college tennis shit was really working for him.
But what brings the wide smile to her face that she couldn’t bite back, despite how much the logical part of her brain telling her she needed to, is those damn puppy dog eyes and the bright crooked smile he offers her.
Art takes a step forward, it almost looks like a reflex, but he pauses, smile dropping slightly as he tucks his hands into his tennis shorts, waiting to see what Heaven does.
And she can’t help it. Her legs move on their own, she can swear she didn’t consciously take three quick steps over to Art. And she didn’t take two more big ones when he met her the rest of the way, arms open as he dips low lifting her up and hugs her waist. And she definitely doesn’t wrap her legs around his waist when they meet. “Hi.” he says softly, swinging her back and forth.
“Hi!” she smiles back.
“What are you” he places her down so close to himself that their chests brush, craning his head down to look at her, brushing his thumbs over her hips through her t-shirt before releasing her fully. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, Pepperdine.” She tries to shrug easily, struggling to focus with him this close.
“You’re…uh, you’re a day early.” Art says, biting his lip a little, rocking on his feet.
“I know, I just had a rough day and I came to, um-”
“See Tashi.” He finishes for her, nodding his head. “You had a rough day?” He asks, eyes searching hers as he ignores the calls from his friends behind him, demanding that he introduce them to his hot friend. Art’s lips part as if he’s planning to say something before he snaps it shut, a beat passes before he trusts himself to speak again. “She’s gonna be on the court until late.”
“Fuck, yeah, she’s gonna be pissed, she hates when I throw her off before matches, she has this whole ritual situation, I just really couldn’t be at school right now.” Heaven groans, tossing her head back in frustration. 
“You could, you could come with me. I’m gonna go off campus for a little bit, go to Dave & Buster’s with my friends, you should come and blow off some steam, Hev.” 
Heaven glances around suddenly conscious that she drove all the way here in a haze like a maniac and despite telling herself she wasn’t here for Art she managed to be here, standing in front of him, notably not with Tashi. And yet, next thing she knew, she was kicking her feet, sitting on Art’s bed while he took a shower, so they could go to Dave & Buster’s.
Art knows that what he’s doing is not…healthy. It’s not good that he’s currently out with his best friend’s girlfriend (though one might still argue that Patrick had two and Art had none.) and he was enjoying the fact that everyone here thought she was his. 
It had started with his teammates. They’d seen the movie scene-esque display of Art lifting the girl in the air in excitement upon seeing her and suddenly, murmurs of the fact that Art doesn’t really entertain any of the girls who talk to him on campus seemed to make sense to them. They nudged him as they walked and wiggled their eyebrows as he held the door open for Heaven, guiding her with his hand on the small of her back. 
He’d tried correcting them. Originally. Sort’ve. 
Well, Matt asked if she was his girl and he’d responded with ‘c’mon man, what does it look like?’ 
Jesus, maybe there is a reason me and Patrick are friends.
But they were having so much fun, playing games and Heaven had been smiling so much. At him. And he didn’t have to share it. He was fucking happy.
“Let me get you something to eat, on me, Hev, come on.” Art says nudging her as he pulls their game card out of the skee ball machine. “Then we can talk about your shitty day.”
Heaven’s nose scrunches in a way that makes Art want to kiss it, her lips, whatever else she has to offer and she snatches the game card from him and takes a couple of steps back, a smirk on her face as she holds it away from him. “Or…we could play some more games.”
“I’m hungry.” Art cocks his head to the side, reaching for the card and laughing when she snatches it away. “And I want you to come eat with me. Please.”
“One more game.” 
“Come on, Art, the lady wants one more game.” One of his teammates, Kyle says smugly, tossing his arm around Heaven as he approaches from behind. 
Heaven’s lip curls in dismissal for a moment before her expression morphs into something more sinister. “Yeah,” she says sweetly, “M’just asking for one more.”
“Hev.” Art scoffs, holding his hand out again, embarrassed at how irritated he is by Kyle’s arm over her shoulders. 
“How about ping pong? If you win, we’ll go get some food and talk about whatever you want to talk about. And if,” her manicured hand reaches up and pats the one Kyle is dangling off her shoulder. “Kyle wins, I’ll play some games with him.”
Something feels so familiar about this moment. The innocent look on her face was only marred by the challenging raised eyebrow that Heaven couldn’t help but have. The look of expectation. It reminds Art of the day he’d lost to Patrick. The expression of ‘is that all?’ on her face. 
This is stupid. He thinks, working his jaw as he stares down at the girl. It’s dumb. 
“This is really fucking dumb.” he laughs, bouncing the ping pong ball on the table, rolling his eyes when Heaven shrugs, tilting her head as if to say, ‘go on’. “You’re seriously gonna go with him if I lose?”
“You’re not gonna fucking lose.” she murmurs under her breath. “We’re just having fun.”
“You’re trying to get out of talking about whatever you’re upset about, but m’not gonna forget-”
“Kiss for good luck?”
That has him whipping his head to her. He would be embarrassed if he could think about anything other than the offer she’d placed on the table. Like a dog to a bone immediately all of his focus is drawn down to her lips. “What?”
“You heard me, Arthur.” Heaven grabs his hand holding the paddle and brings it up between their faces, switching it’s position so that he’s holding the handle out to her and brings her glossed lips down to it, kissing it softly. “Kay, good luck!” she chirps, bouncing away from him to watch the game.
“That’s not fair!” Kyle calls from the opposite end of the table.
“Shut the fuck up, Kyle.”
As dumb as Art thinks this stupid little was, he absolutely demolishes Kyle. Like it wasn’t even fun, at least, not for Art’s opponent. The blond played like he was at the fucking US Open and didn’t let the guy get more than one point that he only got because Art briefly looked away, eyes following Heaven as she skirts off to use the bathroom. “I think I won that one, Kyle.” 
“Jesus, Donaldson, I wasn’t really going to get to go off with your girl. It’s fuckin’ ping pong at Dave & fuckin’ Buster’s.” His teammate rolls his eyes, tossing the paddle on the table before stalking off.
Art feels the heat rise to his face. All night while he’d been enjoying playing pretend he’d somehow avoided Heaven hearing what the guys were saying. He was quite literally ready to tuck his head to hide from the embarrassment when he felt an arm slide and loop with his. 
“Oh, what the fuck ever, he’s a sore loser, you were better, that’s why he’s not fucking ranked like you are.”
He wants to ask her how she knows that. Did Tashi tell her or did she look up the men’s teams rankings on her own. But instead he just guides her over to a table to collect his prize.
“Take the last one.”
“Mm no, can’t have it.” Heaven says, taking a sip of her water.
Art’s jaw clenches as he thinks about how the smallest attempt at a bullshit comeback from some dickhead had her questioning herself when Art thinks she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. “He’s an asshole.”
“I agree.”
“And he’s wrong, Hev.”
“Not completely.” she shrugs, swirling her straw in her glass. “Not statistically…for a ballerina.”
He crosses his arms, leaning back against the red booth seat. “Well, maybe male ballerina’s need to work out more then, I can pick you up just fine.” 
“Art.”
“I’ll come be Romeo. Put him out of a job and get to kiss you, that sounds like a pretty good deal.” 
Heaven laughs, shifting in her seat, lifting one leg into the chair, wrapping her arms around it and resting her cheek on her knee. “Thank you for letting me talk about it.”
“Yeah.” Art smiles, quietly taking a sip of his own water. 
“Now say what you wanted to say.” 
“I didn’t wanna say anything.”
“Yes you do,” Heaven scoffs, you’ve got that look on your face, you wanna say something just say it, Arthur.”
“I told you I hated that name and you haven’t stopped saying it since.” he snorts.
“It’s your given name.” She exclaims. Her big brown eyes stare up at him from across the table and he can feel his heart racing in his chest. “Okay. Art. You always let me talk to you. Talk to me.”
Art swallows deeply. This is the part where she runs. He gets real and honest about his feelings and she retreats to Tashi’s side or under Patrick’s arm. He knows this isn’t healthy to do to himself. But then he has the shittiest thought that crosses his mind. 
This time they’re not here.
He’d won the game today. There was no Patrick to beat in tennis, he wasn’t in a tug-o-war with Tashi. He wasn’t distracted by anything. He should at least try, shouldn’t he?
Like, how long could the situation between the 3 of them last anyway. Here she was again, upset, alone, and where were they. Tashi might have some years on him regarding Heaven but Art knows Patrick. He loves the guy, but he’s not good for them, either of them. This was just some fantasy for him, having two girlfriends, it wasn’t real for him. That’s why he’s here and she’s not. That’s why he was there when Heaven needed him when Patrick was out doing god knows what.
“Why didn’t you call me when you were upset? We text all of the time.” 
Heaven breathes out heavily as she nods her head, as if she’d been expecting this conversation. “I called my girlfriend. She was busy.”
“And then?”
“And then I called my boyfriend, Art. Your best friend, Patrick, remember him?” Art scoffs, shaking his head and Heaven sits up fully. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?” she persists.
“It’s just, what makes him your boyfriend? Because I just…Patrick Zweig isn’t really the boyfriend type, is all.” He shrugs.
“Maybe he changed for me and Tashi. We tend to have that effect on people.” Heaven jokes.
Art laughs humorously. “I know.”
“Oh.” 
“I just want you to be with someone that loves you.” He says in a tired tone. “That’s all I’ve been wanting for you-” He knows he should stop here. That placing seeds of doubt wasn’t the way he should win her. This was fucked up. She’s his friends’ girlfriend. His friend.
“And, you don’t think I have someone like that now?” She asks. That same brow raised as she crossed her arms, staring him down. It's the same bone chilling look she gave Tashi when she’d asked her about her audition dance. He can’t help but wilt a little under the stare, not backing down completely but suddenly questioning his decision to open this line of discussion.
“I…I just want you to be with someone who loves you, Heaven.” 
Her face softens and Art can breathe a little easier. Brown eyes wide as she takes him in, shifting in her seat back and forth as if she was really thinking. 
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
Art nods solemnly, hesitating slightly before standing, stepping out of the booth and walking over to Heaven’s side, holding his hand out to her. “I know what I’m about to say is so fucked up, and if you dont want to, I’ll listen. We’ll be friends, but…let me show you. I’ve, jesus this is embarrassing, I’ve been pretending you were mine all night. Pretend with me for tonight. Let me show you. Please.”
They're quiet the whole way back to campus. Heaven held Art’s hand, or maybe she let him hold hers…neither of them were quite sure. And they made their way back. And they both waited. They both were on the edge of their seats to see what happens next. They waited for Heaven to open her mouth, to ask him with indignity to direct her to Tashi’s dorm because, surely, the girl was back from the gym now. 
They waited for the wave of guilt to hit Art, for him to remember who she actually belongs to, to remember that she’s only his in his fantasies and send her on her way to wait for Patrick to get here tomorrow. But instead, when his phone vibrates in the cupholder of his car with a text from his best friend, he simply flips it over before Heaven can see. 
Once they’re safely inside his dorm Heaven is basically shaking next to him and he pauses, brushing his thumb against the smooth skin of her cheek. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything.”
I’ll just die if we don’t, that’s all. He thinks.
Her eyes are shut tightly but she leans her face into his hand. “I’m scared. Meeting you guys was just supposed to be fun. This feels…” serious. “I’m…I’ve never felt like this for anyone other than her. So I was trying to avoid you.” she whispers, finally opening her eyes to look at him.
His heart almost hurts because he’s causing her stress. Almost. But this was the first time that she’s been clear that she’s feeling what he feels, and he physically cannot stand not kissing her. “I’m sorry.” He breathes, leaning down, brushing her lips with his own. “M’sorry.” 
The gap finally closes between the two of them and Art feels like he’s really breathing for the first time. Like, up until this point he’d been holding his breath his whole life, like he had a taste of real air when they’d kissed in that theater and now he was breathing. The only air worth breathing is Heaven’s.
Heaven’s head swims as Art lifts her up, laying her down onto his small bed, placing her gently as if she was fine china. It feels unfair. She didn’t know that something could feel this good. Being with Tashi and Patrick, it’s the first time she’s really felt something. Tashi was the first person Heaven ever loved. But it was so alarming how quickly Art was making all of that feel less all consuming. All she could think about was him. The only time her mine was this clear, this focused, was…when she danced.
Art places kisses along Heaven’s cheek, jaw and neck before making his way to her ear, groaning when he feels her hand in his hair. “Heaven, baby, let me touch you, please.” 
He pulls back to look at her to wait. He needed confirmation. He needed to know she was okay with it. That it would make her happy. “Okay.” she looks up at him from his pillow with a soft look, lifting her hand to his cheek and smiles gently as he kisses the palm of her hand.
“Yeah?” He asks desperately as he kisses his way up her arm.
Heaven brings Art’s hand to her lips, mirroring his action and kissing his palm before nodding. 
That’s all he needs.
He has to focus hard as he breathes in her sweet, flowery scent as he drags his lips along her torso before he reaches the edge of where her t-shirt meets her pants, nudging the fabric up with his nose to expose the skin of her stomach and kissing his way back down. He feels himself hardening in his own pants and wills himself to calm down so he doesn’t cum before he even gets to really touch her. He reaches his hand down, undoing her buttons on her pants and looks up to the ceiling briefly as he hears her kicking the fabric down her legs, counting backward from 20. 
“Kiss me again?” she asks sweetly. 
The question barely leaves her lips before he’s racing up to meld their lips back together, humming in relief when he gets to breathe from her again. When he finally lets her get some real air, she takes his dominant hand this time holding it in both of hers. “I love your hands, Art. They’re strong,” she kisses one finger, “and talented,” she kisses the next, “and part of you. Let you play some really good fucking tennis.” 
Art’s laugh turns into a moan when she places the two fingers into her warm mouth, staring up at him through her lashes. “Oh fuck, Heaven.”
She pops his fingers out of his mouth and she wraps her arm around his neck to hold his face close as Art slides hand down her body, holding the wet fingers away as he pauses briefly to squeeze her breast, drinking in the sound she makes. He would say he wants that noise as his ringtone, but then other people would hear it. Heaven. That’s what she is. His own personal heaven. 
As he pushes his fingers into her his own grunt frustrates him as he tries to memorize the gasp that falls from her plump lips and chases it with his own. He pushes his fingers in and out of her again and again to hear her voice pitch as she chants his name and gasps obscenities. His own moans and whines fall from his lips and his ears and cheeks turn red at how loud he is. 
His suitemates have to be used to the sound of him cumming with her name on his lips by now, especially considering his one attempt at not being in love with his best friend’s girlfriend that led him to stumble home from a bar just off campus with a sorority girl who promptly slapped the shit out of him and stormed out of the suite screeching when she’d given him head and he cried Heaven’s name when he came. To be fair, he’d gotten her off first…and apologized immensely. 
But this? They weren’t gonna wanna room with him next semester. Fuck them. 
He shivers as he feels her tugging his shirt over his head before pulling him back down to her, kissing him deeply again. “I’m gonna cum.” she whimpers, burying her face in his shoulder.
“Wait, wait, wait, please let me look at you.” Art pleads. Heaven’s head falls back against the pillow as her back arches slightly off of the mattress as she reaches her peak and Art nearly loses it from the sight. Not yet. 
“Shit.” Heaven breathes kissing his cheek and neck, running her hands through his blond hair. “Let…let me-”
“One more.” Art blurts, sitting up and looking down at her, smoothing his hand along her body in awe. “Let me have one more, please. Let me taste you, baby. You’re so pretty, Hev. You’re,” he kisses her lower stomach, blue-brown eyes on her as he bites her panties, pulling them down with his teeth. “You’re a goddess. I want…I love you.” 
“Art-” she gasps, pushing up onto her elbows to look down at him between her legs.
“One more, Heaven, please.” He pleads one more time, stopping just short of his destination to give her time. If…if she didn’t want it he wouldn’t do it. But he’d die. He would, he’d fucking die. 
But all she does is bite the collar of her shirt. And Art could fucking cry at how good she tastes. He kisses her center deeply, licking his way up her slit, sucking on her clit, holding her legs open as she squirms above him. Murmuring against her through his own moans. “I know, baby, I know.” He reaches his hand up tugging the fabric of the shirt to pull it from her mouth to stop her from muffling her cries. “Heaven, beautiful, talk to me, honey, please.”
“I-I’m, it feels so good.”
“Yeah? I wanna make you feel so good.” he whines against her thigh.
“Fuck, Art-” she turns her head to muffle into the pillow, squeaking when he gently tugs her down the bed away from it. 
“Please don’t fight it. Cum for me baby, please. One more, Heaven.” 
“Fuck.” She gasps.
This time when she cums Art can’t help it. Between her sounds filling his ears, her scent in his nose and her taste on his tongue, he was moaning out her name and cumming in his pants before he could stop it. He breathes heavily and sits on the bed because he’s genuinely worried he’s gonna pass out, the black spots in his vision apparently an after effect of coming harder than he’d ever had. “Fuck, Heaven. Heaven?” He breathes, confused when he can finally see again and the girl is no longer in his bed and his room door is open.
She comes padding back through his door and Art thinks if he wasn’t empty, he could cum again to the sight of her stumbling back on wobbly legs, wearing his shirt, holding a washcloth. “Least I could do since you tried to kill me by making me nut.” She sits next to him and he intakes a breath as she unbuttons his pants, coaxing him out of them and his boxers and taking the warm cloth and cleaning his dick. 
“Fuck, baby-” he whines, burying his face in her hair. “Okay-”
“You know you sound like you’re having sex when you play tennis? Or you’re playing tennis when you have sex. Since you played tennis first.” She smiles, smoothing his messy blond hair. 
“Fuck tennis, I wanna do that.” He jokes, lifting his head and reaching for a clean pair of boxers from his drawer before climbing into his bed and holding his arms out for her to climb into. 
“As a pro? That’s prostitution, handsome.” she smiles, laying herself between his arms and entangling their legs. 
“M’not chargin’ you.” he mumbles sleepily, kissing her head.
“Shut up, go to sleep.”
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chibishortdeath · 6 months
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Fuck it, Simon Belmont, because why not you basically themed your blog after him
You don’t have any specific numbers, so I’m just answering every question >:3c mwahahaha—
1. “Why do you like this character”:
A lot of reasons!!! First off, most of his games are super fun and some of my favorite platformers just in general. I replay CV1, Simon’s Quest, and SCV4 most often cause they’re a real joy to play! I also absolutely LOVE Simon’s story, I’ve considered making comics about it if I could ever get out of recent art block whoops, even though I’ve seen many people say he doesn’t have one (´TωT`). His designs are really cool, he’s got great music in his games, there’s just a lot to love and I’ll explain more in detail in other questions.
2. “Favorite canon thing?”
I really like the concept that he looks up to Christopher as this legendary hero and then ends up considered the same kind of legendary hero by Juste and others after him. It’s pretty ironic, kinda bittersweet, especially after being hated for so long. Castlevania loves its cycles like that. Also just Simon’s Quest in general, I love that game.
3. “Least favorite canon thing?”
Ooo that’s very hard. There’s kinda a lot of things about him that aren’t explained or confirmed, especially personality wise, but I kinda like that in a way cause it leaves room for interpretation and whatnot. Idk hmmm. I’m gonna go with Grimoire of Souls in general. I had some hopes for it, but it ended up being kinda lame. A lot of the characterization was weird and don’t even start me on things like the Cursed Whip theory being in there 💀. So I just choose to ignore it and not consider it canon.
4. “If you could put this character in another media, what would it be?”
I have thought about drawing him as if he was a character in other series for ages lol. I’ve already drawn him as a Pokémon trainer, I’ve thought about drawing Castlevania and Soul Eater crossovers before, and I tried drawing him in the style of Resident Evil 1 but could not get the art style down. Idk put him in Fortnite or something that’d be funny we already got Solid Snake so Konami has been in talks with them I guess X,,,,,,,,,,D
5. “What’s the first song that comes to mind when you think of them?”
Probably either Simon’s Theme (of course lol) or Bloody Tears, but I do wanna mention that I have a YouTube playlist of songs I wanna make Simon animations with eventually (alas animation is HARD).
6. “What’s something you have in common with the character?”
Mostly negative things unfortunately d(;w; ). Like self comparison, doubt in my own abilities, trouble making and keeping friends, etc etc. Although a lot of these are based on assumptions and interpretations, as a lot of him usually is. Simon does have a really similar hair color to me on the NES box art tho so that’s cool.
7. “What’s something the fandom does with this character that you like?”
There’s a lot of really nice art of him!!! Usually portraits, but sometimes there’s other doodles and whatnot too :3. Cool fan redesigns too! I also have seen a lot of neat headcanons, a lot of which I’ve adopted. I also appreciate the Captain N reunion stuff for the most part, it’s pretty wholesome.
8. “What’s something the fandom does with this character that you don’t like?”
I’ve seen a lot of comics, especially around when Smash Bros Ultimate came out, that were really… weird. I think all of them could kinda be boiled down to “old = bad” in the way that the artists probably just found out he was from the 1600s and then decided to make him the Boomer to Richter’s Gen Z for whatever reason (ya know despite Richter being from the 1700s but anyway). Simon would either be the jerk in the situation and/or the butt of the joke. I don’t think that Simon would have any issue with any of the female characters’ outfits let alone start harassing them for it. I saw some comics that made fun of him for not speaking very much in some genuinely disgusting ways too. Like making him not able to read or practically just the generic caveman stereotype. Especially in cases where the artist would depict other silent NES protagonists really nicely after making Simon out to be a complete idiot and asshole. There was also the trend of making him generally be all “oh no witchcraft!!!!!!!!!! What sin!!!!!!! The horror!!!!!!!!” about like anything and everything. I guess a lot of this comes from Smash Bros fans not usually being fans of Castlevania, but I’ve seen it in the Castlevania fandom too just less frequently. There’s also the “Simon has no story” thing oof. I’ve seen people tell people to skip his games or play fan games instead before :(
9. “Could you be roommates with this character?”
Realistically, no, my room is too small for another person :(. If that wasn’t an issue, then yeah probably :).
10. “Could you be best friends with this character?”
I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO—
11. “Would you date this character?”
No, he’s probably married, generally feels more like a bestie, and I’m aroace lol
12. “What headcanon do you have for this character?”
Too many oh my god. I think he probably makes things. That’s a very vague sentence lol, but think like armor, knives, general woodworking, all his necklaces and headbands and stuff, etc. He generally seems like he keeps to himself and lives mostly alone, so I can see him doing all that by himself. He keeps some bones and teeth of things he hunts most of the time. A lot of people have him as the most super Christian of the family, but I see him as like Christian but really not organized or strict about it, if that makes sense? I’ve seen someone else describe the Belmonts as like “Christopagan” before and yeah I think that fits. Idk why but I have consistently drawn him with his cross necklace in his mouth sometimes. I headcanon him as semiverbal (I think that’s the correct term for it, basically like inbetween speaking and nonspeaking). I like to think he’s like really average height for the 1600s cause he’s about as tall as other townspeople and skeletons and stuff. Which is funny cause that’d make him like 5’5-5’7 ish and that’s kinda short in modern day lol. And I guess that makes his 8bit sprite being used all the time make more sense XD. I have way more, I didn’t even get into Simon’s Quest related ones, but I don’t wanna make this too long aaaaaaaaaaaa
13. “What’s an emoticon that reminds you of the character or you think they’d use a lot?”
Ok this is funny cause I actually do have one for this and it’s got context. It’s the “:3”. So I was watching a bunch of people’s playthroughs one night cause I was bored and ran into a channel with a toooooon of speedruns of maps from Harmony of Despair. Whenever they’d get to a boss battle they’d use the typing feature just to go “hi” with a different cutesy emoticon every time, but when they got to Dracula they specifically went for the “hi :3” and then went “oh no :(“ when Dracula started attacking and now that’s the way I think he’d text I guess.
14. “Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character”
How does one properly explain how much this guy slays in one aesthetic term—
15. “What’s your favorite ship for this character?”
Oooooo, in canon probably like his wife (Selena) and/or the Mysterious Woman (who could be the same character depending on what theories you go by), but outside of that Simon Belmont x Getsu Fuma and I can’t even explain exactly why, but it’s pretty cute.
16. “What’s your least favorite ship for this character?”
Any BelmontXBelmont shipping ugh, it’s unfortunately really common on some places… also the whole Lucas or Pit or whatever other child character thing the smash bros fandom had ugh. I guess I also just don’t see the appeal of shipping any of the Belmonts with Dracula.
17. “What’s a ship you don’t hate but it’s not your favorite?”
I’ve also seen people ship him with Solid Snake, Palutena, or Bayonetta before. Ummm he doesn’t really have a lot of other characters he’s shipped with tbh. Idk I saw someone ship him with one of the priests from Simon’s Quest once.
18. “Relationship in canon you admire?”
Unfortunately he doesn’t really talk to people enough in game to form canon relationships 😔
19. “Relationship in canon you don’t like?”
I don’t even know if I can answer this one for the same reasons as the above 💀💀💀. I guess the townspeople hating the hell out of him, but I don’t hate that cause it’s kinda integral to the plot???? Yeah idk lol
20. “What character is the ideal best friend for this character?”
Simon and Shanoa would get along a lot I think. Sara too. Hmmmm… I think he and Alucard would probably also be good friends. Christopher too for many reasons. Simon just really needs friends my poor dude is out here in Dracula’s Castle and the Romanian countryside after being cursed alone like this poor guy :’(
21. “If you’re a fic writer, what’s your favorite thing to do when writing this character? What’s something you don’t like?”
I have not written much at all, however what small comics I have done I looooove to make sure to sprinkle in whatever symbols he has in the games into it. He has a lot of cool things ranging from like rose thorns to The Hanged Man card and a lot of them end up meaning things like martyrdom and whatnot idk I made a post about it a while ago :3. I also like specifically Simon’s Quest speculation stuff, like what if scenarios for the vague, left open spots of it. If it’s not something super angsty or lore heavy, it’s usually just wholesome character interactions or doodling him being comforted by Christopher or Trevor cause I was sad or something lol. As far as things I don’t like writing uh idk that’s hard, maybe just any kind of filler scenes cause I’m not very good at those oof. Dialogue is hard too 💀💀💀
22. “If you’re a fic reader, what’s something you like/don’t like to see in fics?”
I’ve mentioned a lot of things I don’t like seeing in uh question 8, but things I do like is when people really try to go full horror with him. I’ve seen some Simon’s Quest fics (sadly there’s very few :’3) that really try to get that same feeling of anxiousness and dread the game does and I love that honestly. It’s a really dark story in the series! I also saw one that went psychological horror with it with him kinda losing himself a little at night it’s just ough it’s cool :D! Simon is a horror protagonist! Make him afraid!!!
23. “Favorite picture of this character?”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Again, too many!!! X3
24. “What other character from another fandom reminds you of them?”
Not from fandoms I am in (yet, hopefully I’ll get into these), but Ragnvaldr from Fear and Hunger I’ve heard is just directly inspired by him and Alfred from Bloodborne also, to me, seems heavily inspired by him. The whole Vilebloods section seems very Castlevania inspired tbh. From other fandoms I’m in, that’s hard to say, there’s not really any I don’t think.
25. “What was your first impression of this character, is it the same as now?”
Well I got into Castlevania through Smash Bros and at first was completely indifferent about him, he was just kinda fun to play as. Then Richter got me to play SotN and actually get into the series more. I had no idea I had SotN on XBOX360 for a long time, but that made it pretty easy to start playing. And now I am absolutely hooked and Simon is my favorite character so uh yeah X3.
26. “Freebie!”
I guess I just say anything? Ok, I am currently half trying to cosplay Simon’s Simon’s Quest design rn! I have like everything but the armor, but I’ll have to wait a while to be able to get materials for it oof. But yeah :). Hopefully that works out. 
Ok yeah that’s pretty dang long wow, but yeah, thanks for the ask!!!! I am happy to rant about Simon anytime :3
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ezraphobicsoup · 6 months
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the car seat is headresting that’s for certain
#watching bake off and in my head it’s just vague twin fantasy#‘woah that’s a nice cake’ ‘cute thing don’t be a rude thing!!!!!!!!’ rauasasaaaaaaa#man i still have so much work to do but this is more fun#i want to like. gain the power of flight i think#i want to detach all my limbs and move them about and put them back together#and i don’t mean that in an unhappy way i should clarify im doing alright this evening#but like. i want to dance as if i did not have a human body and just explode everywhere and and and#hjhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#i don’t think this is only csh i think it’s also cause concerts are slightly different to what i thought they were#turns out it’s actually more convenient but it’s different so it’s the end of the world etc#man i remember one time i was at choir and someone jokingly called me a tory for not liking change :(#i do like change in some respects!!!! but the plans are not the original plans what am i meant to do now#uh i’m just saying words here now huh#i dunno there’s a lot of thoughts in my head i can’t make sense of it all#i need to do my duolingo and homework and homework and homework#they’re stressed on bake off which isn’t helping i don’t think but still quite enjoyable#i need to find music teachers as soon as possible to ask questions i must not forget to do that !!! that is very important#(need to see if i can keep the baritone in school thursday -> friday next week i really hope i can#hm hm ok that’s enough of a tumblr post i need to have a shower and i’ll try and get to bed like what before one??#no ok. half 12 half 12 that’s reasonable ok i’ll call it that#ezra’s real life rambles#ezra likes music#<- got a bit off topic but that’s the original post
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soaps-mohawk · 4 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language
Summary: You get something to aid you in your attempts to bond with your pack. Unfortunately, your ideas have consequences for everyone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, some brief violent imagery but nothing worse than what's in the game, lots of military inaccuracies
Author's Note: Did you know there’s Scottish translators online? I do now lmaooo. Those military inaccuracies are really coming through in this one so...if you’re here for accuracy...I am so sorry. This one's a bit shorter, more of a filler for the next one but there's some important stuff that happens that you'll need for the next chapter. Also a lot of good ole easter eggs and references in this one. If you can find them all, I’ll give you a cookie. 
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You perk up when a knock sounds at your door. You hop off your bed, eagerly swinging the door open. Price is standing there, a package in his hands. The corner of his mouth twitches as you smile, almost bouncing on your toes in excitement. 
“Kate said you’d be expecting this.” He says, amusement shining in his eyes. 
You nod, holding out your hands. “Yes, sir!” 
You take the package, holding it against your chest. You had sworn Kate to secrecy about what was in it, after a long explanation of why you needed it and why you were asking her for it and not Price. She said she threw in a few other things, things you didn’t realize you’d miss once you moved to the UK. You knew she likely did that so she wouldn’t have to lie to Price when he asked.
“Don’t have too much fun.” He says, giving you a smile. 
“I’ll try not to.” You grin. “Thank you, sir!” 
You close the door, not bothering to lock it as you bound back to your bed. You open the package, digging through the snacks to the bottom of the box. You move the box to the floor, holding the book in your lap. You run your hand over the cover, excitement thrumming through you. 
“The Powerful Omega.” 
You’ve spent the last few days running through what you remembered from the book the last time you read it almost four years ago. There wasn’t much, only a few things sticking with you. Things you thought would be helpful. 
You curl up on your bed as the others head out for the afternoon, the familiar sound of boots disappearing down the hallway fading into the background as you dig into the book. You’re determined to find some way to get Ghost to at least be tolerant of your presence. You don’t need him to want you, you don’t even need him to like you. You just know the entire process will be easier if he’s at least accepting of the fact you’re going to be part of the pack, whether either of you like it or not. 
That was long before you knew you’d be placed in a military pack, though. 
He’s a big, tough, military alpha who doesn’t like to show his face. There has to be something in the book that might help you, or at least give you ideas on what to try. You know the best you can do with Ghost is try. He’s an enigma on purpose, and it seems like he’s going to stay that way, regardless of how close you try and get to him. 
You could use Soap to get close to him. Ghost’s protective aura practically envelopes Soap whenever they’re in close proximity, laying a claim without even having to touch one another. You know getting close to Soap could force Ghost to get comfortable with you, or it might make him more territorial.
But that scene at breakfast a few days ago, when he’d gotten defensive over that soldier staring in your direction. 
You let out an exasperated sigh, opening the book. “Alphas are so infuriating for literally no reason.” You murmur to yourself. 
You read until another knock sounds at the door, signaling lunch. You use your note pages as a bookmark, stuffing the book into the back of your underwear drawer before opening the door. 
“Hungry, pup?” Price greets you as he usually does when he’s escorting you to a meal. 
You nod, stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Always, sir.” 
Like most omegas, you have a healthy appetite. It always gets bigger close to your heat, and you never quite feel satisfied and full during that time. You wonder how you’re going to manage on a military base with such a rigid schedule. There’s always snacks in the rec room, but you’re going to need a lot more than chips and protein drinks to keep you happy when the time comes. 
You follow Price to the mess, his arm brushing yours as you walk. You’ve noticed them getting closer to you over the past few days, at least in the literal sense. It started with Soap and Gaz. They walk closer to you, sit closer to you. When you join them in the evenings in the rec room they’ve started putting you between them. Price has now started getting closer, walking closer to you, standing closer to you, often looming behind you like a shadow. 
Ghost is the only one who hasn’t changed much, still regarding you with disinterest and speaking shortly to you when you’re forced to interact. 
“Don’t worry about ‘im lass. He'll warm up tae ye.” Soap had reassured you after a rather cold shoulder from Ghost. 
You’re not entirely sure that’s possible. You’re determined to at least try to get on amicable terms with him, and you’re hopeful the book will help with that. Even if he’s nothing more than just another alpha in your pack, if you can get him to stop being so icy around you, perhaps you’ll be able to settle in better. 
And maybe you’ll be able to fix your lack of instincts. 
Dr. Keller said there was nothing wrong with your lack of instincts at this point in the transition, but everything you had learned at The Institute goes against what she said. You’re an omega. Your job is to be obedient, to serve your pack, and follow your alpha’s commands. Good omegas do what’s asked of them without question, putting their trust in their alpha. No one knows what’s best for you like your alpha. 
Your alpha hasn’t asked much of anything of you. 
You don’t know how to feel about that. 
“I’m startin’ tae think that sandwich insulted ye, lass.” 
Soap’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You have been sitting and staring at your sandwich for a while, lost in your thoughts. It’s not a terrible sandwich by any means, certainly better than the ones you got at The Institute. 
They’re all staring at you, four pairs of eyes watching you. You’ve barely touched your plate, and you hardly remember going through the line. 
You shake your head, picking up your fork to poke at whatever mushy vegetable Price had added to your tray. “No, it’s fine. I was just lost in thought.” 
“‘Bout what?” Soap asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich. 
You shrug. “Just something Dr. Keller said.” 
“Ah, omega secrets then.” Soap grins. “I’ve heard rumors that omegas know the true meaning of the universe.” 
“Yeah, it’s 42.” You say, earning a chuckle from Price. 
If you hadn’t been looking, you wouldn’t have noticed the shift in Ghost’s shoulders, the slight softening of his gaze for a moment as he stares at his own sandwich. 
He's laughing at you again. 
He’s an enigma, a confusing presence in your life. You have no choice but to have him in your life, just as he has no choice but to have you in his life. 
You finish your food quickly, wanting to get back to the book. You’ve already got some ideas floating around from it, things that might help you ease into their world a bit more. 
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, the area between the two buildings more crowded than usual. You both slow a bit as a whistle sounds through the air, your head turning as a rather crude comment reaches your ears. 
“Ignore them.” Gaz says, putting a hand on your back. “Bunch of cocksure alphas. They’re always rowdy after the weekend. They go out, surround themselves with omega barrack bunnies, make themselves feel important.” 
“Have you...been with a barrack bunny?” You ask hesitantly, mostly out of curiosity. You know they likely have. They've had their entire lives they've been able to dictate for themselves. 
“Not since joining the team.” He answers honestly. “None of us have. We don’t usually have the time, or the need. We have each other now.”
And now they have you.
“Do they, the other soldiers...do they know why I’m here?” You find yourself asking as you enter the barracks. 
“Not specifically.” Gaz says. “Most of what we do is classified, even to them. I think some of them have begun to put two and two together. And before too long, they’ll be able to figure it out.” He says, giving you a look as you stop in front of your door. 
“Yeah...” You say softly, your stomach churning nervously at the thought of your approaching heat. There’s still quite a bit of time before then, but you don’t feel ready. You don’t feel ready to spend a heat with an alpha, you don’t feel ready to be claimed. 
“Don’t worry too much.” He says, pressing his finger between your brows like he might be able to smooth out the frown that’s formed between them. “Price will take good care of you. Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to work out the kinks.” He chucks you under the chin gently before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your rapidly warming cheek. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” 
You still feel a bit like you’re floating as you close your door behind you. Your face is warm, not just from the forwardness of Gaz’s actions but also his words. You let out a quiet sound as you fan your face, trying desperately not to think about how soft his lips are, how easily he had ignited a fire within you with some words and a simple touch. 
Gaz is trouble, you think as you pull out the book again, settling down at your desk to read. 
You open the book, starting at the next section. 
Bonding With Your Pack. 
This is what you need, ideas on how to do exactly that. Even though you’re already beginning to feel close to Soap and Gaz, you still feel as if there’s a chasm keeping you from Price, and an ocean between you and Ghost. You just need something, anything that will start building that rope bridge and maybe a boat. 
Learn To Speak Their Language. 
You pause at the chapter title, pulling out the notebook you’ve been taking notes in. 
“As much as we want to think it can be, not everything can be about us all the time. Just like in any relationship, we have to put effort into others as well. If you find yourself struggling to connect with your alpha, the first step is to figure out something they’re interested in. Sports? Video Games? Food? Get to know your alpha, and make it a point to learn about something they’re interested in. Learn to speak their language.” 
You read the passage thrice over, the realization dawning on you. You knew from the beginning that getting them to adapt to you was not going to be possible. You were going to have to adapt yourself to fit into their lives. Their lives of fighting and war and violence and guns. 
An idea begins to form in your head as you brainstorm, scribbling page after page of notes. It’s not perfect, but you’re in no rush to perfect it. After all, you’ve got nothing but time.
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You sit next to Soap at breakfast, close enough his arm is brushing yours. You wish you could see Ghost’s face, or, well, his eyes at least. 
“So what do you guys do between breakfast and lunch?” You ask, all four of them pausing as they look at you. You continue to eat, pretending not to notice their looks. You know mornings are for their workouts before breakfast, but what they do between meals is almost entirely unknown to you. You assume it’s some sort of training, maybe meetings and briefings. 
“Training, usually.” Price answers after a moment. “Running simulations, training courses, weapons training, hand-to-hand. Keeps our skills sharp. Today they’re running a routine course to make sure they’re not getting lazy in our time off.” 
“Can I come?” You ask, their gazes snapping to you again. “To watch? I’m getting kind of bored sitting around.” 
Price’s gaze burns into you as you meet it, not looking away despite the tickling at the back of your neck telling you to yield. Tough alphas like a challenge, the book said. Don’t back down, even when you want to. 
“I don’t see why not.” He finally says, picking up his cup of coffee. “Give these muppets another reason to compete with each other.” 
The table erupts in chaos as Gaz and Soap immediately start betting with each other. You can’t help but smile, used to their bickering and competitiveness after spending time with them doing literally anything together. 
This is certainly going to be interesting, if nothing else. 
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“There’s two rules for you being here.” Price says as you walk with him down a line of hangars. “You do everything I say, and stick close to me. They’ll be using live rounds, and the last thing we need is you catching a stray bullet in some freak accident.” 
“Sir, yes, sir!” You say, saluting him. 
He stares down at you for a moment, amusement shining in his eyes. “Cute.” He leads you into the hangar, a sort of building made out of plywood set up inside. “Over here.” He leads you to where a sort of command center is set up. 
There’s screens showing feeds from cameras set up inside the mock building, a timer and an intercom system set up. You look it over in amazement, Price coming to stand next to you. 
“How does it work?” You ask. 
“They enter there.” He points to what you assume represents the front door. “Work their way through both levels to clear the house.There’s targets in some rooms that pop up when certain pressure triggers are hit on the floor. Hit every target, clear the house, exit there,” He points at a spot on the side of the house in front of where you’re standing. “And reach that red line in 60 seconds.” 
You blink in surprise. “How fast can they do it?” 
“Gaz holds the record currently at 19 seconds, Ghost in second at 19.5, and Soap at 20.5.” He says. 
“Wow.” You say under your breath, looking over the cameras again. “I’m not sure I could even think that fast.” 
Price chuckles. “I wouldn’t expect you to be able to, sweetheart. We’ve had years and years of training and experience. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He says, heading back down the steps to where the others have gathered, wearing light gear. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen them all geared up, but the change is always palpable. Gone are the laid back betas and alpha, and instead they’ve shifted into battle-hardened soldiers. It’s almost mesmerizing how easily they can shift between the two. 
And you can hardly handle your instincts getting a little twitchy. 
Price joins you again, turning on the intercom system. “Alright Gaz, at my go sweep the house and clear the rooms.” You hold your breath as Price pauses, Gaz in place at the front door. “Go, go, go!” Price says, the timer starting as Gaz enters the house. 
You watch on the cameras as he goes through the lower levels, jumping slightly as the first gunshots echo through the hangar. They’re louder than you had expected, even with the hangar doors opened partway. You feel a bit anxious as you watch the time and his progress, almost as if you’re watching an intense movie. 
17...18...19...
Gaz slips through the side door, racing for the red line marking the end. You stare at the timer as Price hits the stop button. Twenty one seconds. You wonder how often they don’t meet their previous records, or if their break really is having that much of an effect on them. You hear Gaz curse quietly as he passes, heading back to stand by Soap as Ghost gets ready at the start. 
The nervous anticipation doesn't lessen any as Ghost makes his way through the house, moving swiftly and silently as he always seemed to do. For such a large being he can move so quietly with an ease unlike you’ve ever seen. 
You watch the timer as he crosses the red line. 21.9. 
You catch a whiff of his scent as he passes, the hint of ozone burning your nose. He’s frustrated. They have to know they’re not performing as well as they know they can. Part of you wonders if it’s your fault they’re not even meeting their best times. 
Soap is up last, moving with an ease and focus that you’re not entirely surprised he’s capable of. Though he tends to be the most lighthearted of the four, and the most unserious, he made it on the team for a reason. 
Again you watch the timer, still held at rapt attention in the intensity of the moment as he crosses the red line. 25. He lets out a loud string of curses, most of which you don’t understand as he moves back to the start. 
“Wait here.” Price says before descending back down the steps. 
You’ve seen the change in him as well, a bit more subtle as he always seemed to be in the Captain mindset to some degree. You wonder if he’s ever not the Captain, if there’s a time where he gets to just be John Price. You wonder what he’s like when he doesn’t have the weight of his responsibility constantly on his shoulders. You wonder when the last time he got to let go like that was. 
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” You say as he joins you once more. You’re beginning to think maybe you made a mistake in asking to come along. 
“Most likely.” He says, resetting the timer. “But that’s something we need to know. This is the new normal. They need to learn to work through it.” 
Especially if it’s you they’re trying to get to. 
You knew there was a risk. Just being associated with them puts you at risk. They’re hidden, anonymous, deeply classified for a reason. You’d gotten that briefing during your time training with the CIA, after Laswell had told you where you would be going. Just knowing their names, who they are, where their home base is, is enough to put you in danger. You were hidden just as much as they were now, your entire existence now hidden beneath layers of security clearance. 
You could still be a target, if anyone found out. They might think you have information, details about their missions, about the things they do. 
The likelihood of that happening was low, but never zero. There was still risk involved in being around them, a risk you were assigned to take. It was your duty, though, as an omega. Do what you’re told, go where you’re sent, follow your alpha without question. 
Institutes really are like the military, you think. Only you’re fighting a different battle than they are.
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You’re seated on the couch in your usual spot, curled up with a book. Your pack was having some downtime as Price had an emergency meeting he had to attend. Your heart had jumped a bit at the news, at the thought that they might be pulled away early. They weren’t supposed to get called off on a mission until after your next heat to allow for the adjustment and claiming, but if they were needed...they could be called away before then. 
So you’d settled in with a book in the rec room to try and calm your nervous energy. 
“Mind if I join ye?” 
You look up as Soap enters the rec room, a smile on his face. “No, go ahead.” You offer a smile back. 
He joins you on the couch, lifting your legs over his lap. You flush a bit at the bold move, but you were growing used to his boldness. “What are ye readin’?” 
“‘Lord of the Flies.’” You say, holding up the cover. 
“Did ye finish the other one already?” He asks in astonishment. 
“I’ve already read two books since I got here.” You say, laughing a little. 
“Och, yer a bright wee lamb, aren’t ye?” He chuckles. “Ye like tae read?” 
You nod. “Yeah. It’s good for passing the time.” 
He hums, grabbing the remote. “Ghost likes tae read too. Dinnae tell him I told ye that.” He holds up the remote. “Ye mind?” 
You shake your head. “No, go ahead.” 
He turns on the TV, keeping the volume low as he sits with you. His hand is warm where it rests on your calf, his thumb absentmindedly stroking circles over the fabric. You try to focus on the book but you can’t help the fluttering in your stomach at the proximity of the beta. You keep catching whiffs of his scent, and you’re beginning to feel an urge to ask him  about Ghost. If anyone can give you answers, it’ll be Soap. 
“Soap?” You ask, closing your book. 
He hums, turning to look at you. You stare into those bright blue eyes, your heart fluttering a bit. His eyes are so warm and expressive, shining with something you can’t quite put a name to. 
“Does Ghost...hate me?” You ask quietly, knowing with your luck as soon as you start the conversation, the man in question would appear out of nowhere. 
Soap’s lips tug up into a smile, a quiet chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Nae, lass. He doesnae hate ye. Ghost is...” He makes a face, trying to find the right words. “Ghost is very guarded.” 
He slips his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You let out a quiet sound in surprise, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders out of instinct. His arms wrap around you, his tactical vest digging into your side a bit, but you’re too focused on the sudden proximity to really care. 
“He's no an easy man tae get close tae.” He continues. “I know. Couldnae stand me when we first met. I broke him down, proved myself. We spent enough time together, and that bond just formed naturally.” 
“He sees me as a threat.” You say, voicing the opinion you’ve been coming to over the last few days. 
“I wouldnae say a threat.” Soap grins, his hand squeezing your side. “A wee yin like ye. He just needs time tae adjust. He's gonnae dae it in his own way.” 
“I don’t even need him to really like me.” You say, tracing the Union Jack on the front of Soap’s vest. “I just need him to tolerate me.” 
“This is him tolerating ye.” Soap deadpans. 
You give him a look. “Well he’s got a funny way of showing it then.” 
Soap chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body. “Nah, dinnae worry too much about him, hen.” 
You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re right. It’s Captain Price I need to worry about.” 
“I dinnae think ye need tae worry too much there either.” Soap grins. “The Cap’n is head over heels for ye already.” 
You give him a look of disbelief, eyebrows raising. “What?” 
Soap nods. “Oh aye, I havenae seen him smile this much in all the time I’ve known him.” 
You continue to stare in disbelief. You knew Price at least tolerated the idea of you becoming his omega. He’s been nothing but polite, cordial even with you. In the traditional sense he’s already begun courting you, providing and protecting. You still have yet to move beyond the polite tiptoeing, even with how things have been shifting the last few days.
You have the beta’s approval, which you know is an important step in pack formation. 
You bite your lip, your fingers curling around the edge of his vest. “You really think he...” 
“Mhm.” Soap nods. “Cannae blame him, pretty omega like ye strutting around the base.” 
He’s getting closer to you. You can’t do anything but stay still as his face lowers towards yours. Your stomach is fluttering, but you can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement. His hand slides down your side, following the curve of your hip before it settles on your thigh. He’s so warm, his scent amplified with your close proximity. You feel a bit dizzy, your head spinning a bit. You understand now how betas can still win over both alphas and omegas. 
“We all feel lucky havin’ ye.” He says quietly, his breath fanning your face. His forehead presses against yours, so close to you your noses are brushing.
You wonder what Ghost would do if he walked in and saw you this close to his beta. Would your body fly through a window or a wall? Or would he tackle you, wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze until your head pops or your airway collapses? Or, was Soap right and he would do nothing? 
Or would he like it? 
The thought sends a shiver down your spine. Soap likes you, both of the betas in your new pack like you. It’s good, you know, having the approval of both betas, even though you don’t technically need both. Price could claim you with only his and Gaz’s approval, though it would be easier if all four approved. 
You wonder if Ghosts supposed tolerance of you is because of Soap. The alpha is very protective of his beta, though you don’t doubt Soap would go to bat for you if he needed to. 
He might have already. 
Soap hasn’t moved, both of you frozen where you are. He wants to kiss you, you think, your brain pulling up all the movies you’ve seen in your life. You’re gripping onto him tightly, your stomach fluttering. You’re nervous, unsure of how to move next. Do you let him kiss you? You’ve only been kissed once before, but that was hardly more than a childish peck on the lips. He wants to kiss you like they do in the movies. 
Will Soap be upset if you pull away? Will he force you back and take what he wants? There would be no stopping him. Even if the others were in the building, even if they heard you, would they come to your rescue? Or would they let it happen because it’s your purpose? What would Ghost do if he walked in and saw you? What would Price do? Would Price be upset that he wasn’t the first to kiss you? 
You are his claim after all. 
You slowly draw yourself back, removing your arm from around his shoulders as you turn slightly to face the TV. You hold your breath, not wanting to catch the souring of Soap’s scent, the tell that he was upset at your decision. You wait for his grip to tighten, for his body to force you back onto the couch. His hand moves from your thigh and you tense, waiting for the reprimanding to come, but instead he simply wraps his arms around your upper body again, holding you like he had been before. 
Your heart is still thudding in your chest as you quietly watch the TV, the silence in the room thick but not uncomfortable. You lean your head back on his shoulder, letting yourself relax into him. The almondy scent of beta is thick in the air, likely his doing to diffuse the tension he must be able to feel. 
“British TV is weird.” You say, trying to follow along with what’s going on, on the screen. 
Soap laughs, squeezing his arms around you for a moment. “Aye, it really is.” 
You continue to sit with him, letting his scent relax you. You’ve given up following what’s on the TV, his warmth and presence slowly lulling you until your eyes are drifting closed. 
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The scent permeates the air everywhere he goes. 
Caramel. Vanilla. Strawberries. 
No amount of scent blockers can keep it from seeping under his mask, permeating his senses. He’d spray the scent blocker up his nose if he thought it might work. You’re stinking up the base, his beta, his life. Even now he can smell it, the sweet cloud of your scent wafting through the halls. 
He can pick up the sharp tang of anxiety on the edge of it, a low growl rumbling through his chest in response. It burns his nose and he hates it. His boots are quiet on the tile floor as he makes for the rec room, following the cocktail of scents. Your pungent sweetness layered over Johnny’s warm spice. 
Images flash through his mind of what position he might find you both in. He can smell the musky undertones of Johnny’s desire in the air, a scent he’s very familiar with. He knows how much his beta wants the new omega that’s been forced on them. They don’t need an omega. He knows how much Price fought against it, but even the Captain has begun to fall under your intoxicating spell. 
You don’t even know you’re doing it. 
His hands curl into fists as he steps into the rec room. The TV is playing some daytime rerun, but his eyes are drawn to the couch. Johnny is fast asleep, his head leaning against yours. You’re asleep in his lap, hand under your cheek, resting against his chest. You’ll have imprints on your skin from your hand and his vest. Johnny’s arms are wrapped tight around you, looking more peaceful than he has in a while. 
He’s already comfortable enough to sleep with you. 
“MacTavish!” He snaps, startling both of you. 
The only thing that keeps you from flailing to the floor is Johnny’s quick reflexes, his grip tightening around you to keep you on his lap. Johnny blinks the sleep from his eyes, squinting up at him for a moment. 
“Let’s move.” He growls, turning and leaving the rec room. 
He refuses to look at you in your sleepy haze, not quite as quick to wake as Johnny. He doesn’t want to watch the way Johnny eases you to your feet, how small you look leaning against him as you grumble sleepily. He doesn’t want to watch as Johnny guides you to your door, easing you into the safety of your room while they leave to do their jobs. 
He hates the way he turns back to look as Johnny speaks quietly to you, those big, shiny puppy eyes staring up at him. He hates the churning in his stomach as you soften at Johnny’s kiss to your forehead, the way you watch Johnny walk down the hallway. Ghost opens the door for his beta, letting him out, but he can’t bring himself to move until he hears the click of the lock on your door sliding into place. 
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libraincarnate · 1 month
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astrology notes: 16 ☁️
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quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences based on astrology. above all this is just for fun. lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!
🐚 neptune–venus aspects: you probably get compliments on your appearance a lot. you may have been told that you look a model or a celebrity. there's some sort of star quality to you.
if your neptune is square/opposite your venus, you might struggle to see the same beauty that others see in you. it’s not that you think you’re ugly but you might not think you’re as attractive to the extent that others do, so it makes you wonder what other people are seeing. you might think they’re lying or exaggerating. compliments could also be hard for you to accept. the attention you get can make you a little uncomfortable.
🐚 i used to think that virgo venuses were too nonchalant when it comes to love but this placement will give you that real princess or prince treatment that goes beyond money and materialistic items - that kind of princess/prince treatment may apply more to taurus and sag, but with virgo they give the kind of treatment that considers their partner’s entire well-being and not just their monetary needs and desires. they really care about their partners and want to put their life at ease, they truly care if you ate and aren’t just asking that just to ask. if you haven’t eaten they won’t just say, “oh, damn” or “oh no, eat something :/” but they’re the type to create time to make you something or buy you something to eat and even bring it to you. if they can make your life less stressful in any way, they’ll try to do that. if you’re sick, they’ll take on some of your responsibilities like tidying up your house for you since you aren’t able to do so. there can be times where they won’t even let you lift a finger. the types to say, “i’ll take care of that for you” even if you can do it yourself.
they’re reliable so if they say they’ll do something, you can expect them to do it. but this placement may often find themselves in a position where they’re always being the care taker so they want someone who takes care of them too. these individuals are often anxious and may be quite paranoid when it comes to romantic relationships so they desire someone who will put their mind and life at ease. they can be picky and difficult to impress because of their high standards and because they’re quick to get the ick, but once they love you they’ll really go above and beyond.
🐚 sun opposite rising: your looks may not match your personality and you might even think so yourself. for example, you might look innocent or younger than you are, but really, you’re quite mature and there’s a dark, wild, or unexpected side of you. your looks are deceiving.
🐚 capricorn rising/in the 1st house: you are someone who had ambition and big plans from a young age. money could be a big part of your identity. the ones making “money moves” fr. you could have a lot of work experience. you’ve been working/touching money since your pre-teen or teenage years. 
if your cap rising aspects your mercury then subjects related to money/finance could be something that is always on your mind and it frequently comes up in your conversations as well.
or if it aspects your lilith, then you may be the type to get money by any means necessary, meaning you might be willing to do illegal/immoral things to obtain it. but in your mind, you probably think you have a good reason to do it. something made it worth the risk because capricorns are too rational, prudent, and judicious to just do anything without good reason.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 lilith in pisces: might deal w/ sleep related issues such as insomnia, sleep apnea, sleepwalking, etc. 
🐚 sun conjunct mercury (natal): your father may be someone you hold in high regard and therefore someone you speak highly of most of the time. it’s possible that you tend to reflect on the memories you share with him, your similarities/differences, and the influence he has had in your life.
🐚 jupiter in the 7th house: you bring abundance into the relationships you have. this can be a friendship, business partnership, romantic relationship, etc. your loved ones are lucky to have you in their life. you’re generous and you’re the type to spoil & splurge on those closest to you. you bring encouragement and goodness into the lives of others, even if you haven’t known them for long. you’re a blessing. you could have qualities that make you the perfect wife/husband & you could also be blessed with your perfect spouse in return. unless you’re a jerk, you may be someone that people regret losing, especially your ex.
🐚 aquarius: reminds me of The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) in a way, the ones to step up and help a stranger. they have this innate desire to help people, to help the world, even if it’s done in a small way or even if nobody else sees it.
isn’t it ironic how the sign that’s about humanity and togetherness is the one that feels like an outcast or has been ostracized from some group in some way? whether it be by their family (aquarius in the 4th house), friends (11th house), classmates (3rd house), or co-workers (6th house).
as an air sign, they can talk for hours. but out of the 3 air signs, aquarius is the most socially selective. this can be one of the reasons why they’re often described as cold and distant.
they may not be all sunshine & rainbows but they’re actually kind-hearted individuals. it’s just that they may not always express it in the most warm, affectionate, lovey-dovey way. i wouldn’t describe them as the most emotional individuals but they are still empathetic and they dislike inhumane behavior.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 sag experiences life to fullest by going everywhere, seeing everything, learning about it all in the process and then reflecting on what they’ve seen & learned.
taurus experiences life to the fullest by really being present in their physical body. they’ll take in the different sounds of a song and dance to the beat, they'll distinguish the different notes or aromas of a particular smell and then buy similar scents to fill their home with it or to wear as perfume/cologne. when eating, they'll really taste food and explore the different flavors/ingredients, then maybe they’ll try to cook it for themselves. they’re in tune with their senses and therefore the world around them. it’s such a beautiful way to experience life, but this can also mean that they are quite sensitive to their environments. with that being said they may feel a strong connection to nature/the earth.
🐚 cancer in the 10th house: may be perceived as compassionate & loyal, shy, or a sweetheart by the general public. could be sensitive about their reputation and any criticism they receive. they spend time nurturing their career, and their career may even relate to nurturing children, caretaking, or healing. they rely on their intuition or heart to carve out their path and navigate their career. they’re good listeners and as a cardinal sign they also possess that leadership quality. the types to provide their close friends and family with opportunities to help them reach their own success. a desire to take care of their family and their needs once they make it. people within the same industry as them may see them as a motherly mentor.
🐚 scorpio in the 2nd house: they can have deep and/or raspy voices. it’s music to my ears, but especially if it’s a woman with this placement. that’s because women typically have higher pitched voices, and so naturally, these women stand out when they speak. if they can sing well, they can probably reach deeper notes than most women typically can. but in the same breath, it may be hard for them to reach high notes. this applies to both the natal chart & the mercury persona chart.
🐚 saturn rules the teeth and so people with saturn in retrograde in the 1st house, or saturn opposite/square pluto, lilith, mars or the ascendant may have a chipped tooth due to a certain event such as getting hit in the mouth or biting on something hard. or they may have a gap between their front teeth, the type you inherit genetically or from your parents. this doesn’t mean they have ugly teeth or an ugly smile. however, whether they feel like they have an ugly smile or not, they may have a tendency to smile without showing their teeth or they cover their mouth when smiling/laughing in attempt to hide their teeth. either way, there’s a sense of self-consciousness here.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 4th house synastry: potential for a strong/solid foundation, they're your comfort place, having a strong desire to live together, moving in together can make the relationship feel more satisfying, fulfilling, or complete. you miss them when they’re not home/around, hate having to say goodbye, long distance could make you both feel miserable or like something is missing. possible separation anxiety. emotional vulnerability, healing, and attachment. taking care of each other. wanting to start a family. this house also creates an environment for a deep connection just like the other houses ruled by water signs.
🐚 if i could communicate with animals i would tell pets to choose owners who have scorpio in the 6th house. these people will loveee their pets to death. their pets would probably be obsessed with them (it would be mutual though) because of the amount of love and attention they would receive from their owners. there’s definitely a strong emotional attachment. but in general, having a water sign in the 6th house indicates a strong emotional connection or bond with pets/animals.
air signs in the 6th house would talk to their pets a lot and they’d be besties lol, they obviously don't speak the same language but they'd understand each other nonetheless. possible animal whisperers here.
earth signs in the 6th house would give their pets the best of the best but i also think this dynamic would bring a mutually grounding effect that could be therapeutic, bringing a sense of calm and peace to the pet and the owner’s life.
fire signs in the 6th house would spoil their pets and they’d have a lot fun doing things together like taking them outdoors and going on adventures. 
🐚 1st house ruler in the 2nd house: the themes of the 1st house includes one’s appearance and the themes of the 2nd house includes one’s physical body and beauty, being that is ruled by venus. while this still applies to libra because it is also ruled by venus and it has the reputation of being beautiful and having physical symmetry, this doesn’t apply to the 7th house, which libra rules, because that house is more related to romance and relationships.
so, since the physical body is part of one’s appearance, if your 1st house is ruled by the 2nd house, not only can this show another layer of your appearance but it can also mean you have a very attractive appearance and body. bonus points if taurus is in the 2nd house since that is the house it rules and it is also ruled by venus.
with that being said, even if you don’t have a libra rising or libra in the 1st house, if it’s in your 2nd house and it rules your first house you may have libra physical traits like freckles or dimples. if aries or leo is in your 2nd house then you may have a lot of hair, red hair (naturally or dyed), or a pronounced face/head. 
the planets in your 2nd house may also have an impact, so if you have mercury there your body may be quite slim. having venus in the 2nd house is also a bonus because again, beauty. jupiter too since it represents blessings so you may be blessed with great looks and this may indicate a thicker or curvier body type as well. i’d also add asteroid aphrodite (1388) as well, being that it represents attraction, & beauty, but planets will have a greater influence. 
lastly, people may like the way you dress and think you have a good sense of style.
^ even if the house that rules your 1st house doesn’t relate to one’s appearance or body, it can still have an influence on your presence. for example, if your 8th house rules your 1st house you probably have sex appeal without even trying to be sexy, people may think you’re secretive, and you might look and feel best when you’re wearing dark colored clothing. but remember, signs matter and can reinforce this or bring out the opposite.
🐚 asteroid juno (3) at a gemini degree (3°, 15°, 27°): can indicate a marriage filled with laughter, lots of conversation, and possibly good communication between you & your spouse, or these are things you desire or must have in a committed romantic partnership.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 pluto represents things that are hidden. those with pluto in the 1st house may hide or gatekeep their personality or their true self, so many people don’t know the real them. they’re naturally mysterious with deep layers. 
in the 6th house they may hide any health issues they have or how hard their life may be on a daily basis, the types to feel like they’re on the verge of death but no one would know. 
in the 3rd house they may not be quick to reveal their thoughts or what’s on their mind, they try to think before they speak. reminds me of the person who chooses to sit in the back of the class and doesn’t participate much, but they have profound ideas and also a dark mind. their siblings may also feel like they don’t know them very well even if they grew up together and were raised in the same home. furthermore, your sibling’s friends may be surprised to learn that they have a sister/brother (the person with pluto in the 3rd house), because they’ve never seen or heard of them.
🐚 lilith represents the things we reject. in the 1st house, lilith may reject parts of themselves because they find those parts difficult to accept, they might create a new version of themselves but it’s not really authentic since they’re rejecting their true self. they may reject their personal boundaries and can potentially be a push over or they care too much about what others think. this may result in a lack of self-esteem and confidence. they could reject their appearance and do things to constantly change how they look whether that be dyeing their hair, dressing up in ways that are drastically different, or possibly getting cosmetic surgery.
in the 10th house, lilith may reject commands from their superiors, their boss/supervisor may tell them to do something a certain way but they do it their own way, may have a tendency of disobeying their father or they were rejected by their father. they may reject leadership roles and prefer to work alone. they don’t take the “traditional” path to success and may choose a career that their father is against. they could also reject fame or attention from the general public even though that’s something they naturally attract. 
in the 12th house they may reject their dreams, meaning that they think nothing of them, they’re “just dreams” and have no deeper meaning. they might reject the darker parts of themselves and prefer to focus on the parts that aren’t so dark and heavy. because of this there could be painful experiences that they haven’t healed from because they refuse to pay any attention to them. if they are spiritual, then they may have surface level knowledge and aren’t interested in delving into deeper waters. or they could disregard or hate the reality of life on this planet and so they have a tendency of fantasizing about death, the end of the world, or a different/better world. also, they may not be the most generous or charitable people.
🐚 empty houses: some people might think that the empty houses in their chart are insignificant but they still have relevance in your life because a there’s still a sign that falls into that house and that empty house also has a house ruler. for example, if you have an empty 3rd house with leo or sag there, you may still be one of the popular kids in school even if you have no planets in that house.
and let’s say your 3rd house is ruled by the 7th house (meaning your sun or jupiter is in the 7th house), your popularity may stem from your relationships. you may be known because you’ve dated the popular boy/girl at school or you both are popular making you the popular couple at school. perhaps you’ve had several relationships throughout your school years and maybe you’re that person who is always in a relationship which could create some gossip whether it be for good or bad. or maybe you have a lot of people pursuing you and wanting to date you, perhaps you have multiple people wanting to take you to prom or you might be a sophomore and yet you end up going to prom with a senior.
so, empty houses will still play a role in your life, but it will most likely be less active or less prominent compared to the houses that do have planets.
🐚 the 5th house: this is definitely one of my favorite houses. people with multiple placements in the 5th house typically have so much personality. they’re so fun, a joy to be around, truly a burst of sunshine with vibrant energy and they’re also really talented. definitely the life of the party, bringing everyone together with excitement and entertainment. the type to start dancing with or talking to a stranger or that person standing in the corner, making them feel both welcomed and included. they also have this youthful quality to them, which may be one of the reasons why children love them or get along with them well.
if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.
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talkingattumble · 8 months
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Hi guys! Here’s some advice from a cane user on how to spot a fake cane user/disability faker!
YOU CANT
You can not spot a “fake disabled” cane user. You can not know if someone’s “really disabled”, much less by just looking at them. Here are some common misconceptions.
“Cane users always need their canes. If they walk without it or put it away when it’s inconvenient, they’re faking”: WRONG! Many cane users are what we call “ambulatory” cane users. This means they don’t always need their canes to walk. I’m an ambulatory cane user, and I experience really horrible leg pain on the daily. However, I don’t always use my cane, and when I don’t need to walk or stand a lot in a certain place I don’t use it. And when I do use it, I may lift it off the ground or carry it in places that are sandy, gravelly, or otherwise hinder my cane.
“Cane users walk abnormally without their canes, someone who walks normally without their cane is faking”: WRONG! Many ambulatory cane users can walk in a way that seems “normal”. This doesn’t mean they’re not in pain, or not “really disabled”. This just means that their condition doesn’t cause a noticeable difference in walking, and likely manifests in a different way.
“Cane users always need their cane, someone who doesn’t use their cane at home is faking”: WRONG! Cane users may not use their canes at home, because at home they may be able to do things like sit down wherever and whenever, regain more spoons, and use other mobility aids. Additionally, some ambulatory cane users only need or use their canes when they are doing something physically taxing, like going on a hike or standing in a long line.
“My cane user friend told me this person looks like they’re faking, so it must be true”: WRONG! Being a cane user doesn’t immediately make you an expert on all different conditions and experiences. Your friend does not know the random cane user walking down the street, they are going off looks and stereotypes. Disabled people are not immune to being ableist.
“They enjoy their cane too much/they’re too happy/they decorate their cane, so they can’t actually be in enough pain to need a cane” WRONG! We’re people like everyone else, and we experience positive emotions too, even if we go through a lot of pain. To me, customizing my cane is like getting a tattoo or putting streaks in my hair, it’s a way of self expression. And we deserve to be able to talk openly about our full experience, which include the parts we’re neutral or happy about.
“They’re one of those cringey teenagers who name themselves arson and like dsmp, so they’re probably faking” WRONG! Do I even have to explain why saying someone isn’t disabled because of their name and interests is messed up and also stupid? Or did you already know that and just wanted to make fun of a disabled teenager?
“They’re too young to be using a cane, so they must be faking” WRONG! there are lots of disabilities or injuries that can cause young people to need a mobility aid. For example, I use a cane for my fibromyalgia.
“They only use it in private places, and never in places where people recognize them, so they must be faking” WRONG! In a world where anyone can just randomly take out their phone, take a picture of a cane user, and post them online to be made fun of, it can be stressful to use a cane in public areas. Also, they may not want people to ask questions, or they may feel embarrassed about it.
“I saw them switch hands, so they must be faking” WRONG! There are different reasons a cane used might do this, but I’m going to use my experience as an example. My fibromyalgia is not consistent. Sometimes one leg hurts more then the other. But as I said, fibromyalgia is inconsistent, and sometimes my other leg will start to hurt more or need more support, which is when I switch hands. And when both my legs hurt equally, I may switch my hand if it’s getting too sore.
“They told me they feel like they’re faking when they use their cane, doesn’t that mean they don’t really need it?” WRONG! Imposter syndrome is strong in a lot of disabled people, especially when for a lot of our lives we were told by doctors that we were fine and just being dramatic. Anxiety is also comorbid with a lot of physically disabilities, which only strengthens this. To add to this, something that I’ve felt and seen other disabled people talk about it, when their disability aid lessens the pain, they start thinking “well I’m not in that much pain so I don’t really need it” even though the reason they’re not in that much pain is because of the aid. I know it seems dumb, but imposter syndrome can be that strong and affects disabled people a lot.
“They don’t have a diagnosis, so they must be faking” WRONG! First of all, diagnoses are expensive. On their own they’re often already expensive, but counting the tons of tests you have to take to confirm the diagnosis? Absolutely ludicrous. Some may also choose not to get a diagnosis, so that they don’t have to deal with the prejudice and setbacks of being diagnosed. Also, some people use a cane for injuries, and for stress or fatigue related pains.
These are only a few of the things I commonly hear from fakeclaimers, and I wanted to just put out a reminder that fakeclaiming hurts the disabled community much, much more than it does ableists. Next time you see someone with a cane switch hands, or someone with a wheelchair stand up, or someone with crutches put them down, before you immediately call them out to a friend, take a picture, or write a post: does your fakeclaim rely on stereotypes? Are your reasons things that apply to ambulatory aid users?
If so, just stop. Be mindful. Please.
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arielleslipgloss · 3 months
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How to Reinvent Yourself!!
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(none of these photos are mine!) “Pour yourself a drink, put on lipstick and pull yourself together.” - Elizabeth Taylor
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Mindset!! This is one of the most important things that comes with reinventing yourself. Therefore that toxic, negative, insecure, and judgmental mindset has gotta go. Say hello to your new positive, secure, lavish, and uplifting mindset! Now, first thing you need to do is stop taking EVERYTHING so personally. Should you really be spending your whole day overthinking what this person says about you. NO! The only opinion that should matter when it comes to you, IS YOU. Next, think with a “so what?” type of mindset. Someone doesn’t like you? So what! Someone judges you? So what! Say so what, and move on. Lastly, take care of your mind!! You can’t create a whole new mindset if you don’t take care of your mind. So, heal whatever is making your mind stressed and fill your head with lots of good thoughts. You could compliment yourself, do shadow work, watch uplifting videos, just do whatever makes you feel good.
2. Set boundaries!! Not only should you set boundaries for yourself, but also for your relationships. Whether thats with a bf/gf, family members, or even friends. Whoever it is, they need to understand to not cross the line. Now, if they don’t understand then they obviously shouldn’t be around you. This year we are only surrounding ourselves around people who deserve to have access to us. Now, let’s talk about examples of having boundaries . First example, someone may be touching you in a way that makes you uncomfortable. For that reason you move a bit away from that person and clarify that they’re making you uncomfortable. If they call you selfish, so what? They need to understand to respect your boundaries. Second, someone is disrespecting you? Tell them that you don’t like their behavior and to stop. Last example, a stranger is using your belongings without your permission? Tell them that they should have asked and you don’t want them using your stuff. If any of these people don’t respect your boundaries, get them out of your life!!
3. Change the way you dress, talk, and walk!! I would like to clarify quickly, only do this if you want to. Moving on, I’ve learnt that slower walking and talking is better. Now I’m not saying to walk and talk in slow motion. Just slightly do it slower. This way, you can play attention to your behaviors more. It can be really important to observe yourself. Not only that but in a world moving fast, walking slow makes you stand out. Also make sure when you speak, it’s clear. That way people can understand you and what you’re saying. Finally, let’s go over the way you dress. Wear outfits that make you feel good, stylish, and fit you well. If you want to wear an outfit, don’t shy away. Wear it if it makes you feel happy! When you wear an outfit that makes you confident, the outfit is even cuter. Don’t forget, have fun with fashion and experiment with pieces.
4. Self-worth!! You need to understand that you’re an absolute BLESSING on this Earth. You are here for a reason and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. There is not a single flaw in you. You see your insecurities? Yeah, well someone out there has them too. Just because you have a few insecurities, doesn’t mean that should bring your value down. You should bring your value up and add taxes by realizing your worth.
“It is far better to be alone, than to be in bad company.” - George Washington
Love you dolls sm!! Remember to always wear a smile and stay pretty 💋
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Pinterest: Arielleslipgloss
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jeanbie · 3 months
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FANTASIZE ★ masterlist.
pairing: jake x reader
warnings: explicit sexual content, fem!human!reader, semi-public sex, piv sex, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, breeding kink, cumming inside, glowy cum | wc: 16k | ♬
note: i've been promoted to: avatar writer. my first time writing for it (def not my last!) lemme know what u think ;-) also his smirk in the header....GET INSIDE ME
★ ⏤ fantasize | all the time (if you were mine)
⏤ It's official - Jake is sick and tired of Norm giving him shit. While he can't claim to know as much about Pandora as Norm does, there's still a few things Jake can afford to do to piss him off even more for the fun of it, and it just so happens that Norm's sister works as a scientist in the lab - which to Jake spells perfect revenge in its simplest form.
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It’s official — Jake has had enough of Norm’s bitching and whining.
For the last two months, Jake has endured a lot, more than he ever asked for or wanted; whether it was Neytiri on his ass about becoming an Omatikaya and never missing a single beat of training for it, Grace nagging him about video logs, or even Norm giving him so much shit over every single thing he didn’t spend three years learning in simulations and classrooms — he’s sat and listened to all of it without complaint. 
Jake has never once fought back, never once raised his own grievances about how tedious and time-consuming everything actually is on one man’s shoulders, and yet it all keeps coming.
The worst thing is that he can understand all of it to an extent. There’s a necessary need for attentiveness when learning the ways of the Omatikaya, and the longer it takes, the worse his chances get with the rest of the clan. The video logs? They’re not that important, Jake thinks, but it keeps Grace off his back for the small kernel of time he actually spends in the real world and not inside of his avatar. 
But with Norm, Jake can’t seem to understand what is actually bothering him enough to be so goddamn bitter about every little thing.
Of course, he’ll never fit into Tom’s shoes, not in the way everybody expects him to. He didn’t spend three years of his life learning how to control an avatar or how to function on Pandora — every day is quite literally a learning experience, a practical education that neither a lab nor a stuck up prick like Norm can teach. 
And, while he’s on the subject, Jake actually thought Norm would be a decent ally, at least until he almost died and got saved — with reluctance — by the daughter of the Olo’eyktan and somehow ended up being thrust into learning their way of life. 
Nobody seems to remember the giant part of the story concerning how he almost got devoured by an oversized dog in the process.
Instead, Norm wants to bitch about how Jake knows nothing, and treats him like a genuine idiot. Jake might be a few years short of being educated on the Na’vi, but he’s not stupid. He can still do stuff, stuff that Norm can’t; but reasoning with the man is like trying to convince the Na’vi that the Sky People are actually friends and not foes, and it’s pretty obvious that that’s never going to happen.
When Norm begins his daily ritual of berating Jake on his lack-of knowledge regarding the Hallelujah Mountains that surround their shitty little containment, Jake’s willing to sit through it and take it like a champion. 
Norm starts weaving his conspiracies to the cluster of scientists about how Jake is a terrible candidate for joining the Omatikaya clan and that all he cares about is sucking up to the Chief’s daughter — not true, by the way, for Neytiri can only stomach being near Jake because she has to and on rare occasions, he can do something absurdly dumb to make her laugh — and Jake begins to mentally tap out of the debate, rolling his eyes to the side and sighing as he watches you duck your head through a low archway with a bowl of slop in your hands.
Jake watches you for around three seconds before the lightbulb flickers alight above his head.
And then he grins.
It’s hard to believe that you and Norm are related — Jake can’t find any similarities between the two of you. You’re incredibly compassionate and communicative, never letting Jake suffer in his silent struggle of stupidity, and not to mention you’re incredibly beautiful; whereas Norm is just… Norm. A bitter, angry, red-faced man who does a piss poor job at hiding his insatiable jealousy of how wasting your life in a classroom or behind a book actually means very little in the grand scheme of achieving your goals. 
Example A: Jake of the Jarhead clan, ex-military, future Omatikaya. Cross-reference to Norm: sad loser. Jake signs his name on the mental essay he’s compiling as Norm drones on about culture and ignorance and narrows his gaze on you as you close in on the group.
Jake’s actually always liked you. You’re a no nonsense kind of woman who loves science and the Na’vi, and, unlike your brother, you actually treat him like an equal. Even now, as you slip next to him and lean back against the low metal work-surface, you meet Jake’s gaze with an eye-roll and smile, and his grin only widens from it.
Oh, how he loves that you like him. Although you spend so much time engrossed in your work and documenting on paper whatever Jake recites from his daily activities within the clan, Jake happens to know that you like him, and in hindsight, it’s never been a secret. For the first time, Jake lets himself consider the possibility of that being just another reason for Norm to suddenly despise him, but the idea warms his stomach rather than churns it.
“I can totally see Jake ruining all of our chances at building bridges by just burning them all together,” Norm huffs, folding his arms and wrangling a dirty glare in his direction. Jake welcomes it with the same smile that’s been blooming over his face for the past two minutes, which worsens Norm’s mood. 
“I don’t see you building any bridges, either,” you say to Norm. “Jake’s been more valuable to this program than you have as of late.”
Norm bristles. “One of us has actually been doing research while the other is trying to seduce an Olo’eyktan’s daughter—”
“Jake’s doing field research, Norm,” Grace says, her eyes still glued to her microscope. “And he knows better than to seduce anybody when we haven’t properly studied the relations between Na’vi and avatars yet. And there are bigger issues at stake right now.”
“I can get results on that if you want me to,” Jake offers.
“No, Jake.”
Jake shrugs. While Norm continues his tirade against Jake’s rather noble endeavours with the Omatikaya, he turns his gaze back towards you and lets his mental clogs turn.
At this point, Jake thinks that even if you agreed with some of Norm’s points, it wouldn’t make any difference. There is absolutely nothing he can do to please Norm, and so maybe he should just stop trying. Then again… There’s something hideously funny in how worked up Norm gets when somebody jumps to his defence, particularly you.
And considering most of Norm’s insecurities come from seeds he planted all by himself without any concrete evidence to support most of the points, Jake knows that anything he does from here on out will drive Norm into a slow burning insanity.
“Is it because I’m in a wheelchair?” Jake asks suddenly.
Norm huffs. “Of course not. It’s because you don’t take any of this seriously. Everything is a game to you. All of us here have spent years building up to this assignment while you read a manual and called it a day.”
“What? I’m serious. I’m one of the best avatar drivers here,” Jake says smugly. Grace finally looks over with an irate look — something tells him he wasn’t supposed to tell everyone that she had told him that. 
Norm’s face turns a whole new shade of pink. 
“I’m also a quick learner. The Omatikaya are trusting me more and more each day, so while I go out there and find out valuable field research for this program—” Jake looks at you with a deliberately sweet look and you laugh quietly, “—you can stay here and look at plants and mud and cells.”
“You probably don’t even know what a cell is.”
“Sure I do. Where they lock up all the bad guys.”
Norm opens his mouth to say something more, probably missing the joke like he does every time, but this time Grace swirls in her chair and sighs loudly, looking between the two of them like they were children.
“Alright, ladies, you’ve measured your dicks at equal length. You’re both doing good work around here, so Norm, why don’t you just let Jake go back to doing his work with the Omatikaya and you can just get some rest. Jesus, you’re both making everyone miserable, it’s affecting my work ethic…”
“Yeah, sweet dreams, Norm,” Jake calls, and Norm gives him a filthy scowl before snatching his things up off the desk, holding them secretively to his chest as he stomps towards the back room lined with their bunks. 
Jake feels the dark and evil energy follow him out the room and then he finally looks around the lab in disbelief. 
“Jake, go, you’ll be late, don’t keep Neytiri waiting,” Grace reminds him, switching off the bulb to the microscope and stretching her arms as Trudy claps her hands and silently announces her retirement to the bunks after Norm. “Don’t forget to make a log when you get back. Don’t let him forget, will you, Spellman?”
Grace looks at you with a look that suggests no room for negotiation. It was an order. She collects her things, claps Jake on the shoulder and grabs a cigarette from the net by the archway and takes it with her towards her separated bedroom. 
When the door to her little cubicle rattles shut, Jake shakes his head with a quiet laugh and rolls himself forward, giving you room to assemble your own work station where he had just been.
“Staying up late tonight?” he asks you, taking a swig of water before pushing one of the buttons to the link unit, waiting as it whirs to life.
You settle your stuff down and walk towards him. “Yep. I actually do have some work on cells to finish up.”
Jake’s lips quirk. “Not your usual ballpark, is it?”
“No, but there’s not really a surplus of Na’vi around here to communicate with,” you say in reply, rummaging with the unit to help Jake into the gel pack mattress. Usually he dismisses the help, but when it’s you helping him get comfy, then he’ll stomach his pride and accept your kindness. He’s surprisingly light, as normal, and you frown. 
“Don’t forget about the real world, Jake, you gotta take care of yourself.”
“Don’t worry, I got this,” he assures you. “You need anything while I’m out?”
Another thing that will shave a few years off Norm’s life — Jake bringing you things, extraordinary and otherwise unattainable when stranded in the mountains things for you to study and report. You hum thoughtfully at the offer, pushing his head down softly when he wriggles restlessly, a little to eager to get to whatever he’s doing in the forest tonight.
“If you happen to cross paths with a tsawksyul, a simple cutting would be appreciated,” you tell him, opting for something a little more simple than normal, considering Jake’s busy these days training. “If you don’t forget while you’re busy seducing daughters, of course.”
Jake’s grin returns, if not out of genuine amusement then just to see you smile in return and do the little head-tilt thing that Jake’s discovered he adores.
“Not my thing. More into scientists,” he tells you, watching in the final moments before you shut him in the pod at how you shake your head and turn yourself away from him.
There was no rejection. No refusal. Just a smile.
A smile that sets his plan into motion.
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No wonder Norm is always in a terrible mood. You find that his notes on the cells found in the mossy undergrowth of the forest is as chaotic as it can possibly be, which has left you using Grace’s Bible on Pandora botany as a guide and squinting to find the connections between his barely legible notes.
It’s basic knowledge that when cells die and a genetic material begins to unfold, a charge of energy is released; this concept has been the fundamental structural point to Norm’s notes on the moss and how each step at night causes a ricochet of expanding light, but there has to be something more than everybody is missing. Even in Grace’s book, there’s not enough information regarding how it works; if it’s connected to Eywa, if it is a response to another organism, whether it breathes and lives as its own entity.
Alongside Norm’s notes, you very sparingly begin to make an analysis of the communicative features of Pandora plant life, and begin jotting a vocabulary to use in a later research assignment, when a sudden knock against the glass above your head makes you jump quite literally up and out of your seat.
The Hallelujah Mountains are so isolated from the rest of the human population on Pandora and used rarely by the Na’vi during the night, but you distinctly make out Jake’s looming form standing outside with a smile on his face and relax. His skin is a bioluminescent explosion of colour, and for a moment you’re struck dumb staring at him until he waves his hand as if beckoning you outside.
You throw a cautious look over your shoulder, but the lab is silent and still. With that in mind, you reach for one of the exo-packs and shrug on your cardigan hanging on the back of the chair you were just on and hesitantly begin to make your way outside.
Very sparingly have you been outside of Site 26 to explore, and never once on your own. Grace has drilled into you the strict importance of respecting the laboratory rules and curfew, and if you’re going to wander outside after hours in the name of research, then please, wake her up too. 
But you won’t be alone out there, not when Jake is waiting for you outside.
Jake drops to a squat in anticipation when the airlock doors to the lab force open with a wheezy breath, and he sees you cautiously step out and secure a button on your cardigan in place. The gesture almost makes him croon. He rarely sees you at night since he’s learned the value of getting rest in between his adventures in his avatar, but now he can’t believe what he’s been missing out on seeing past his bedtime.
You look tired, your hair out of place and messy, but he recognises your attempt to look more alert when you step towards him with a slight bounce.
“Hey, tìyawn,” he calls to you, as you stare up at him even whilst drawing near. Thanks to the crouch, you’re about eye-to-eye, and he watches your expression widen with wonder as you map out the illustrations of light across his nose and cheeks, before sweeping to his forehead, then his neck, and then his bare chest.
“Hey, yourself,” you laugh, finding his eyes again as they glow in the low light. The Pandora skies are littered with stars and balls of unimaginable white light, but even the surrounding forest gathering around the lab to protect it from the harsh dropping winds of the mountains are pulsing with purple light, every single shrub and leaf and plant glowing with life.
Jake stares at you for a moment before producing a gift from behind his leg. You take it from him with a wide and gasping smile.
“No way!”
“Way,” Jake says, watching you handle the flower with so much care that one might assume it would break with your touch. With the way Jake was swinging it around on his way up here, he’s actually shocked that it’s still in one piece, but something in the way you respond to everything Jake does or brings tells him that even if he’d brought a portion of it, you’d be just as pleased.
“Thanks,” you say, turning slightly as you tell him you’re going to put the tsawksyul in the lab for safe-keeping. But Jake reaches his arm out to trap you from leaving, cocking his head to the side with a soft smirk when you round back on him curiously.
“It’s not gonna die if you leave it out here, it’s a flower,” Jake tells you, jerking his head in another direction. “Wanna look around with me?”
You pause, and he can tell you’re genuinely conflicted. Grace said not to leave the vicinity under any circumstances out of respect for the Na’vi and the lab rules. But she also said not to go outside without her, and here you are.
“Grace will be mad if she finds out I’m gone,” you tell him slowly.
“Probably.”
“And Norm.”
Jake feels a rush of something at the mere mention of your brother, and his tail swishes against the rocks behind him. 
Jake leans closer to you. “Well, him I don’t care about.”
Mindful of the plant in your hand, you gently push Jake’s chest back until he rolls on his heels, unable to fight the smile on your own face.
“…Where will we be going? I can’t go far just in case Grace wakes up and comes looking for me.”
Jake tilts his head up to the sky and to the top of the mountain peak that houses the lab. From his own experience scouting up there, Jake knows there’s a small incubation of trees that offers a compelling view of the entire mountain range, as well as offering a minor collection of plants he thinks you’ll die over once you see.
But that just wouldn’t be as evil as what he originally had planned. He then rolls his head towards the small section of trees that border the back of the lab, close to where the bunks are, and he then looks back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“We’ll stay close,” Jake promises. 
You hesitate once again and guiltily look at the lab. It’s not like it’s going anywhere…
“Alright,” you sigh, looking back at Jake and watching his smile widen as if he’s just obtained a great victory. There’s no room in your stomach for suspicion to grow — it’s overrun with butterflies when Jake points his head in the direction of the snug tree line and holds out his finger for you. 
You stifle a laugh and reach to hold it, setting the tsawksyul on the ground tucked under the same window he just scared you from and join him on the slow walk to wherever he means to take you.
Being with Jake has always felt easy, but being with Jake’s avatar is practically uncharted territory. It’s a struggle to remember that it is actually the same man you like so badly back in the lab, the same guy who deliberately rams your ankles with his wheelchair just to watch the way you catch yourself as you fall, the same guy who you think uses you as a factor to piss off your brother but in a way that you find strangely attractive. 
Now, he’s an almost ten foot Na’vi leading you in the whimsical dark towards a cluster of trees, and you don’t know how to begin separating the feelings you have for Jake from the feeling of nerves you feel around his alter ego.
You can barely make out Jake’s face all the way above your head, not until he feels your stare and looks down at you beside him. There’s a similarity in his human expressions with his Na’vi ones, which is fortunate considering there was a time where you thought the avatar looked more like Tom than it did Jake. Now that they’re one in the same, and now that Jake is in front of you in his avatar form and the feelings you have for him are still lingering, you’re beginning to accept the likeness between the two of them. 
“What did you do today?” you ask him, referring to his ritualistic training with Neytiri.
Jake hums thoughtfully. “Nothing compared to Norm, I’m sure.”
At that, you laugh. “I’m seriously asking, Jake.”
“Alright… Neytiri has me reading the signals of the forest whenever we go hunting,” he explains sparingly, seeming not in the mood to talk training now that you’ve reached the lay of forest near the back of the lab. He surveys the setting and the space between the lab and the fringe of leaves and bushes and nods, as if satisfied but then pulls you deeper into the thrush of leaves.
“She says everything’s connected,” he continues. “She also says I’m a terrible shooter.”
“You’re missing your shots?” you tease. Jake turns back to you with a grin that you honestly walked into when you asked.
“Not all of ‘em.”
After the short walk, Jake is finally satisfied with the burrow of bushes and rocks that outline the small selection of forest behind the lab, and he looks up to once again gauge the distance and is pleased when the lab doesn’t look too far away. Jake hears you rustle and sit on one of the low rocks with your knees to your chest, and then drops to his usual squat in front of you, arms rested on his knees, gently fiddling with his fingers.
“How’re your cells?” he asks, but you’re so busy gazing at the forest around you and the stars above your heads that he fears you’re not even listening. Jake instead settles for watching you.
He knows he’s in over in his head when even his avatar likes you. Jake’s had nowhere near as much experience navigating his way around how to use this body than the other drivers, let alone time to understand the signals his body sends him or the feelings different things have to him, but he can tell the difference between being you friendly and not, even when he’s not totally familiar with how it all works. And on top of that, there are so many random variables to being Na’vi to get his head around that he never even thought of until Neytiri or Grace filled him in on what the hell was going on with his body at certain times of the month.
He’s stupid sometimes, true, but not totally naive. Jake recognises the tug in his chest as he looks at you — he feels the same thing when he’s in his human body. He’s no expert on Na’vi, never claimed to be, but he feels there must be something instinctive in the way he feels for you and the way his avatar senses it. And with Norm’s fresh-faced hatred in full flush whenever Jake makes that fact known, he’s not at all surprised that those feelings have suddenly become so full frontal now that he’s had enough of Norm’s bullshit.
“It’s amazing out here,” you say, to Jake but also to the wind as you completely crane your head up to look through the cracks in the branches and leaves. “Don’t you ever wish Earth had looked like this?”
“I haven’t really thought about Earth since I left,” he confesses, shuffling closer to you while you’re occupied with mapping out the stars in the sky.
“Not once?” You look down at him. If you’re taken aback by the sudden closeness between you, you hide it well. 
Jake shrugs. “Nothing I need is there.”
Fair enough. You stare at him for a moment and think about that before agreeing. 
“Me too.”
The branches above your heads sway in a gentle breeze and Jake watches you hug your cardigan around yourself before asking, “So, why’re we here? Did you wanna show me something?”
“What, the stars not enough for you?” Jake looks up to the sky.
You laugh quietly. “I’ll never get enough of them, actually. Beats the lab ceiling by a long shot. Looking at the stars through the window’s not the same… I wish I didn’t have to use this mask—” You throw him a playfully exasperated look, “—I wish I had an avatar.”
“Why don’t you?” Jake’s never asked, never thought to ask. But you’re the only scientist in his close collective of scientist ‘friends’ who doesn’t actually drive an avatar, and is instead limited to just studying everyone else's.
“It was never really my thing,” you explain, settling comfortably atop the rock and throwing the glances to the sky away to focus on him. Like the lab, they’re not going anywhere, and the ones tattooing Jake’s skin are far more interesting. “Okay, that’s a lie. I think the avatars are fascinating, just like the Na’vi, but sometimes you take what you’re given when you’re given it. Norm has always had to be better than I am, always one step ahead. Plus, our inheritance only stretched as far as to cover the contract costs of one avatar driver.” You laugh, “And Norm’s older.”
“Damn, so we just got stuck with Norm,” Jake comments, only to make you laugh again, which thankfully works. “I’d have a better time out here if it were you and not him.”
“He’s actually very insecure about that,” you tell him, watching his amusement grow without knowing the exact reasons for why. “He always goes on about how your avatar is much more built. I guess Tom was just more athletic and the avatar reflects it, I don’t think Norm’s used so much as an elliptical since high school… Anyway, he’s very vocal on how unfair the avatar program is in that regard.”
“You agree with him?”
Jake’s fingers ghost across your ankle.
“One: he’s my brother, and I’m not going to answer that question honestly. And two: let’s not forget who the avatar is modelled off. Tom was very handsome.”
“Growing up, I was always the pretty twin.”
You hum. “I couldn’t tell.”
Jake’s never ever considered the fact of you knowing his brother well before he died. He’s never had to think about it before, not until now, but he pushes the thought away and falls back into the thoughts of what he came here to do in the first place.
“You don’t think I’m handsome?”
He watches your grin widen. “I didn’t say that, did I?”
Jake creeps forward slightly, and this time you notice, moving your toes back further towards your bum on the rock while Jake continues his close creeping. 
“I think you’re a very pretty woman,” Jake murmurs. “Beautiful, even.”
“Norm’s not here to get mad at you for saying that,” you remind him.
“‘m not saying it for Norm to hear.”
You feel Jake’s hand sliding to wrap around your ankle and you shudder when he smooths his way up to your calf. You’ve never interacted with any Na’vi like this before, never felt their skin pushing against your own. With a glance down at his hand, you frown and work your way back up to his face, his eyes lit up in the dark.
“It’s not fair that you’re using your avatar against me right now,” you mutter, making him laugh through his nose and bring his body closer to the round edge of the rock. He considers it progress when you remain rooted in place once his hands run up the length of your legs to your waist.
You watch his nostrils flare slightly as he observes you, which only makes you feel more nervous and trapped here.
“All I’m doing is talking,” says Jake.
You scoff at him. “Does all your talking involve hands on the waist, Sully?”
He shrugs. “Only with really pretty people.”
Jake’s ears prick when you sigh and look back up at the stars. He doesn’t move his hands, but he senses your body tensing beneath his touch, smells the change in your body as he speaks. He’d love that part of being Na’vi a lot more if he knew what those changes meant exactly, and he can’t figure it out even as he stares at you intently.
His thumbs smooth from left to right, feeling the nub of your ribcage with every stroke over your tank top and tries to level his face into one of absolute neutrality when you look back down at him. 
“What are you doing, Jake?”
Not what he was expecting you to say, if he’s being honest.
“Nothing,” he says.
“You’re being weird,” you reply, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. It has the opposite effect, and you watch him struggle not to smile. His hairline raises when his brows do, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes when you figure him out, “Did you actually bring me out here just to flirt with me?”
He does nothing except look at you, as if the answer is painfully obvious and you’re stupid for not realising it sooner.
You sigh loudly. “Jake, I’m sorry that you didn’t get the memo like everybody else, but you didn’t need to lure me out the lab in your avatar if you wanted to get my attention.”
His thumb continues to move and his eyes drop slightly.
“I wouldn’t say I lured you out here,” Jake replies. You watch his eyes zero back in on yours and you fight your body against the urge to wrap up and hide from him. 
“You can’t be that stupid, I refuse to believe it,” you laugh disbelievingly, which makes him raise his brows questioningly. Even with a layer of plastic obstructing your face from his, Jake can’t get over how pretty you look. “You have to know that I like you even when you’re not a big blue alien.”
Jake’s grin widens, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I know. You’re really bad at hiding it.”
“Okay,” you say, feeling under your cardigan for his hands and attempting to wrestle them away, but he doesn’t budge. You laugh again, as if the whole thing is genuinely funny for you, “then you can always make your thoughts about that known when I see you in the lab. In person.”
“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t in there if I had the chance,” Jake tells you, moving his hands but only to sandwich them between your tank and your skin. The feeling of his palms flat against your stomach makes you jump slightly and reach for his wrist. 
“Please. I see you every single day.”
“Yeah, and your brother, and Grace, and Trudy,” Jake points out. “I can’t get a second alone with you. What would you have me do, make a move with your brother breathing down my neck about it?”
“You could just be upfront. Save me from looking like an idiot.”
“Come on, baby, let’s be real.”
The smile he has on his face is unmoving, and you search every corner of it to find signs of his sincerity falling and find nothing. But something feels wrong.
You’ve spent close to two months in the long shadow drawn by everything else in Jake’s life, and considering Jake’s newfound role of future Omatikaya warrior, you feel that the time he spends in your company has become less and less. So now that Jake has decided to pick up on whatever signals you were sending him and respond to them, you assume it’s all in the name of good fun to piss off Norm.
Feeling Jake’s hands creeping up your body in the middle of the Hallelujah Mountains and with no older brother here to glare at either of you, you’re rethinking everything you thought you had figured out.
“I don’t get it,” you say finally. 
Jake just laughs quietly. “You thought I just rammed my wheelchair into your feet for fun?”
“You mean to tell me that was your way of showing interest?” you ask unconvincingly.
“…Nah. I liked watching you fall, though,” he grins. Jake picks himself up from his squat and looms over you like a shadow, watching you fall back onto your forearms as you stare up at him. He sets one knee between your legs and leans down slightly, breathing in deeply in a way that has you thinking he’s actually sniffing the air around you. 
“Honey, I’m all kinds of obsessed with you.”
You blink. “You certainly gave nothing away.”
“I bring you shit all the time.”
“I’m a scientist, I didn’t know you did that because you liked me. I thought it was just because I wanted better samples than Norm.”
“I mean, that definitely helped motivate me to find everything.”
“You never even told me you liked me.”
“Well, I’m telling you now.”
“Okay, well, tell me tomorrow when you’re awake and not all…big,” you frown. 
Jake chuckles. “You don’t like me now, or something?”
“I definitely never said that. I just want to hear human Jake Sully tell me how he feels without using his avatar to try and win me over.” 
Jake’s tail swishes behind him. “You prefer the dummy in the wheelchair?”
“I like your wheelchair,” you tell him quietly, running your hand up his arm as he pins you flat against the boulder with a hand on your stomach. 
“I don’t,” he murmurs. “I like being like this. I like being bigger than you. I like smelling how much you like me.”
All of a sudden, your legs swing shut around him and you look at him in disbelief.
“Freak.”
All he does is smile. 
“Come on, Jake, I actually don’t have time for this,” you say around a groan, trying to move against him but failing miserably. An exasperated smile falls on your face. “Really? What are you even trying to achieve? You’re seducing me with your avatar?”
His ears twitch and he angles his head to the side. “Yes?”
“Why am I getting the impression that all of this has something to do with Norm somehow?” you sigh in reply, but Jake notices the way you fall relaxed underneath him, and he has the feeling you’re in no real hurry to get anywhere else tonight. 
“Well, it might have something to do with it,” Jake confesses, his voice lower than it was before as he draws his nose close to you and takes a deep inhale. The feeling of his braid flicking down from his back and brushing against your thighs makes you shudder, not to mention the feeling of his snout against your collarbones. “Really, I just want to spend some time with my girl while I got the chance to.”
Whatever you want to say or have planned to say dies away when you feel Jake’s lips wander and press against your sternum. 
Sighing, you shift your hands to his arms that have you pinned down and carefully squeeze. “Good luck with that, Sully.”
He runs his tongue flat against your skin and hears you exhale through your nose, a noise of satisfaction muffled by your closed mouth, and all at once, Jake’s decision is final.
He is going to fuck Norm’s sister. 
And he’s going to rub salt on Norm’s wounds by doing it in the way that will piss him off the most.
Jake kisses his way down the length of your body, his hands moving around your figure like a sculptor until his hands find their way to your thighs. Though oversized and covering most of them, Jake’s hands circle around the width of your thighs and he strokes his thumbs across the inside skin of them, all while laughter bubbles in your chest.
All of this is just so absurd. If someone had told you this morning that Jake so much as liked you back, it would have taken some convincing, but if they had gone as far as to suggest he’s be attempting to seduce you in his avatar in a little chunk of forest behind the lab you pretty much live in, you would have laughed at the delusion of the thought. But now, there’s no denying the very tangible view of Jake’s Na’vi hands pressing down on your thighs, his eyes staring up over the slope of your body as you pick your head up to look down at him.
“This is crazy,” you gasp.
Jake’s teeth reveal themselves against the stretch of skin he was just pressing kisses onto, his smile widening as he speaks. “You don’t want to, baby?”
You weigh your options. It’s either leave and go back to the lab and hope that Jake follows through on his apparent feelings for you in the morning… Or you can relax and enjoy.
“Jake…” You pause for a moment. You want to enjoy it, and you feel the pool of desire deepen inside of you and know it’s a sensation Jake can most likely smell. 
He’s still your Jake, still the same guy you dote over when he remembers he has a life outside of being Na’vi. The only difference now is that he’s blue, and mobile, and double your size in every definition of the word. And suspiciously attractive, but you don’t know for certain if you think that because it’s Jake or because it’s actually true as a fact. But you just can’t help but wonder if Jake’s climaxing feud with Norm is the only reason he’s pinning you to a boulder in the forest and kissing your stomach. 
“You’re not just doing this to piss off Norm, are you?” you ask, feeling serious all of a sudden. The only way you know Jake notices is from the way his ears flatten against his head and his eyes grow round with concern. 
In the light, his tail flicks from side to side in the way you recognise most Na’vi do when they’re nervous, and you fight the urge to look away from him when he stays quiet for a second, thinking of what to say in a loud silence.
Of course he’s doing this because he knows it will piss Norm off if and when he finds out. As soon as Norm catches a stinking whiff of Jake on your body when he’s in his own avatar surveying the mountains, there will be nowhere for Jake to run or roll off to and avoid Norm’s volcanic rage. But he knows as well that this is a long time coming — that he’s been chasing circles around your feet for the fun of it, and now the chance has come for him to bring what he’s buried to the surface and shape it into something more.
Jake very carefully thinks of what to say. “Knowing that if I fuck you right now it will piss off your insanely annoying brother makes me want to do it more. But if the only reason I was fucking you was to piss him off, then I’d be doing it in front of him.”
Your brows raise. 
“Okay, that came out wrong,” Jake says quickly. “My point is… I go crazy thinking about you. And everything I think about doing to you can be made possible when I’m, as you said, all big.”
“But… Norm—”
Jake groans, all smiles. “Oh my god, can we please stop bringing up your brother for a sec? It’s a huge turn off.”
“It doesn’t make me feel any sexier, either,” you point out, “but I’m just thinking—”
“Don’t think,” Jake tells you. “This is the one time you don’t have to think about anything at all except for how you’d like me to take care of you.”
Jake returns his face to your stomach as you blink furiously, a flustered feeling creeping up over your body at the bluntness of his words. If you thought he was playing around, you’re officially convinced when his hands tighten around your thighs and he spreads them apart, pinning them down against the boulder he’s made your bed for the night. You inhale a deep breath when Jake’s thumbs dip underneath your shorts, bunched around your inner thighs.
“I suppose it would be like killing two birds with one stone…”
Jake laughs against your skin. “Jesus Christ, Spellman, quit talking so much. Who knew you were such a yapper?”
“Am not,” you protest.
You shudder when he plants another kiss on your abdomen, pings the fabric of your shorts back against your skin with a sharp sting and he grunts with a nod.
“Okay,” Jake agrees, his ears high and tail swishing playfully. “Now take off your cardigan.”
Still watching Jake on your forearms as he hooks his fingers around the waistline of your shorts in an effort to pull them down, you wrangle a sigh of protest and lift your lower body up for him, all whilst reaching for the buttons on the front of your cardigan. 
You breathe heavily as you mumble, “Do you really need to take off all my clothes, Sully?”
“One of us is halfway there, honey, and it’s not you,” replies Jake. His golden eyes watch with intent as he pulls the shorts down the expanse of your legs with your underwear in tow. As you shudder with the breeze fanning between your legs, Jake takes a big inhale and stares.
He barely moves an inch once the shorts and panties are in a bunch around your feet, but you busy yourself by sweeping a look at Jake’s own attire, or striking lack of. Between his legs hangs his tewng, a simple and sparsely intricate item of clothing that leaves little to imagination when it comes to what is growing between his thighs. 
It’s standard attire for the Omatikaya, but you’ve never seen it up close, and never on Jake himself. It hits you then that he’s still in his entire hunting gear, as if he finished up with Neytiri and brought himself here right away.
Jake’s thighs clench as he finally moves, readjusting his footing in his dropped squat; to him, this position has become as natural as breathing, but you stare at his thighs bulging and wonder how he’s not in agony from it alone.
Jake looks up at you after his allocated time spent analysing the spot growing wet between your legs and you gulp, feeling almost nervous. 
“Well, you’re gonna be an Omatikaya soon. One of the consequences is wearing your little g-string everywhere.”
His head leans to the side as his amusement grows. “It’s called a tewng, genius.”
That makes you laugh, and say in a melodic and sweet tone, “I know.”
But Jake bites back with the same sweet tone as you and says, “Then shut up,” and you comply. It’s the least you can do for him when he smooths his big hands back between your legs and up close to your cunt.
Pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, Jake inches his hands further, relishing in a deep breath as he returns to staring at the spot just inches from his fingers. From his perspective, you are hideously tiny; given the obvious lack of research on Na’vi and human sexual relations, Jake isn’t totally sure you’ll be able to withstand what he wants to give you.
Worth a try, though.
Jake’s chest rises and falls as he stares in wonder at your pussy, the scent divinely pronounced, and he runs one of his fingers between your folds and up, collecting the juices on his finger as he rounds your clit in a rather observational manner. 
You bristle, your legs instinctively trying to close — all the good it does, as Jake pushes them back open. His eyes flicker back up to yours, as if assessing his next steps, before he lowers his mouth to your cunt and without doing you the kind service of looking away, stares at you as he spreads his tongue flat between your folds.
His actions earn him a strangled moan of pleasure, and his ears twitch in satisfaction. The feeling of his tongue against you is strangely addicting, rough and soft at the same time, warm and wet and enough for your hips to lift. 
“Jake…” You gasp, feeling your eyes close, half with the pleasure of it all and also sheer embarrassment. 
Like a predator watching its prey, Jake never looks away from your face and the way it twists, your jaw hanging open as he licks your cunt. With the size of his head alone, his tongue virtually covers every corner of your pussy with no difficulty, leaving you with no untouched itch, no ignored stretch of wet skin. 
You can’t even bear to look down at him again, and you toss your gaze up to the stars as they twinkle above, blinking, conspirators to your escapade. Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, your hips slowly roll up and down as Jake sucks around your clit, his big hands working overtime to keep you from wriggling away entirely off the rock and to the ground.
“Oh, god…”
Between your legs is a flurry of warmth, a tingling feeling rippling down to your toes. After five dry years, it comes as no real shock that even someone’s tongue could be ripping this kind of response from you. 
“You good?” Jake murmurs.
“Mmh. Hot,” you rasp. It doesn’t help that there’s an exo-pack warming your face with every deep breath you take. Jake moves his mouth from your cunt momentarily as if trying to hear you, watching with curious eyes when you bite back another noise which stirs as he slides his finger towards your entrance. 
“This mask is really ruining my vibe right now,” you groan, your voice so throaty and strangled that Jake has to fight a smirk. He fails miserably.
“Take it off and hold your breath,” Jake replies; a laugh rumbles from his chest when you lift your head to scowl at him.
“It would frighten people if they knew how much of a genius you were.”
Jake hums, his eyes glistening as he cocks his head, “I’m incredibly humble.” Then he wastes no more time talking and sinks his finger into you.
He sinks in with plenty of ease, your wetness guiding his finger all the way in to the knuckle and you choke back a strangled sound; one of Jake’s fingers feels like two of your own, the stretch unfamiliar but not unwelcome after your dry spell of five cryo-stolen years. 
Jake grins widely and inches his tongue back between your legs, swiping it over your clit and forcing the moans out from hiding in your throat.
You turn your head to the side, sparing a glance at the distant laboratory. You can only hope you’re not loud enough to startle your sleeping colleagues and brother.
“Eyes down here, Spellman,” Jake mumbles, his voice vibrating across your pussy and pulling your eyes back towards him. Tears spring to your eyes as he looks up at you, working his fingers in and out of you slowly while matching his licks to the tempo.
His tongue is slightly rough and textured, each lick leaving you feeling almost ticklish. A rush of warmth pulls from your cunt up to your neck, and your thighs tremble around his head with a flushed squeeze, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind; he pulls your one leg further apart with his other hand and slips in a second finger, the stretch of your hole making your back arch with a half pained, half pleasured moan.
“Jake!” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his mouth, his fangs brushing across you. He has the nerve to laugh all of a sudden, pulling his mouth away after pressing a sloppy kiss to your clit. “Jesus, fuck, Jake—”
“Goddamn, you are a yapper,” Jake comments, and you glare at the almost human look of pure smugness on his face, his chin coated with saliva and juice. 
“Fuck you,” you huff, feeling the absence of his tongue immensely, despite his continuously moving fingers. Jake’s fingers are thicker than they looked from afar — it feels like you’re full already, but you’re not willing to confess that to him. He already looks far too proud with what he’s doing.
You suppose, now that you’re thinking about it, Jake’s had years to become familiar with a pussy; he seems to be back between your legs with a certain hunger for you, the taste of your juices sweeter than he initially expected. 
His fingers are coated in juice, slipping into you with no resistance and curling his fingers up to make your hips lift once more. He almost wants to make a comment to fluster you, to tell you how insanely good it feels for your cunt to be quivering around his fingers, welcoming him up there as if you’d prepared for them beforehand. Jake parts his fingers inside of you, stretching you out, his mouth comfortably attached to you.
His ears twitch when you let out a wobbly cry — actually, he’s not sure if you’re crying for real or not. His eyes follow your hand as it creeps down to the hood of your pussy, just above his nose, and he pulls his mouth away for a split second.
“No, no, go back,” you pant, and like a dog given a command, Jake pulls his soggy fingers out of your cunt and pushes his head back between your thighs, satisfied by your own pleasured sounds when he does.
Jake hooks his arm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the sloping boulder while he uses his other hand to keep your legs wide apart. You forget all about modesty and self-control and open them as wide as you can for him to help, your hand stroking the top of Jake’s hair as he burrows his way back between the wet spot he was devouring. 
You suck in a tight and high-pitched breath when Jake’s tongue shifts from left to right over your clit, the feeling of his tongue strange and almost like a vibration. Your hips lift from the boulder again and shift up and down — Jake’s barely even trying, barely broken a sweat, but when he glances up at you he’s both amused and surprised by how twisted in pleasure you look. All he can see is the underneath of your jaw tilted to the sky, and one of your hands curling up around your tit under your tank top.
Jake guides his arm from trapping your abdomen up to push the bottom of your tank up above your wrist. There’s no way he’ll let you gatekeep the sight of your tits when he’s the one making you touch yourself in the first place. His eyes are wide with excitement when you fist the fabric of your tank and yank it up above your boobs, the curve of them bouncing with the quick movement of your hand. 
Jake groans into you, his tail curling up high. Jake’s tasted a lot of pussy in his life, but he doesn’t know what exactly you’ve done to taste so good to him. He momentarily convinces himself that it feels different because he’s in a whole other body — it must just be because he’s big and strange and he’s been fucking you in his mind for a while now that you somehow feel ten times better than anyone else he’s ever been with. 
The pool of warm juice between your legs leaves you incredibly soft and squishy, like a tìhawnuwll that he has to remind himself he can’t just sink his teeth into.
It could be because you’re Norm’s sister. Could be because you usually appear so big when he’s resorted to sitting down all day, but now you’re helplessly tiny underneath him, trapped by his arms and head. Or it could just be because he’s an idiot who quashes his feelings rather than gives in to them.
He blinks. Your hips are so high off the boulder that Jake has to bring his arm back down to hold you in place. The less you squirm, the more drawn out he can make it, but he’s acutely aware of the tremor in your legs, the impatient rutting against his lips, the painful hardness under his tewng.
“Sweet,” he grumbles. The word leaves you flustered, and the heat brewing like a bomb against his open mouth begins to rise through your body again. You forget to be quiet as you let out a high-pitched moan, feeling your toes curl in your boots and you desperately finger at your nipple, rolling and tugging on the hardened nub of flesh as Jake pins you tighter against the boulder. He laves his tongue down your cunt towards your entrance, the warm tip of it pushing to the tightened hole that Jake wants more than anything to squeeze himself inside.
“Mf — Jake, come on,” you whimper.
One of his thin brows raises. “You seduced yet?”
“Fuck off. Yes.”
You feel the rumble of his laughter against your pussy. Jake presses a kiss against it and then moves his mouth to the soft skin of your inner thigh. 
“I never let a woman go without making her cum,” Jake says, his voice muffled against your leg. He feels you quiver beneath him, and his grin widens. “You wanna at least cum first, right?”
“Please, Jake—”
A startled cry of pain rips from your throat when Jake gently sinks his teeth into your leg — Jake knows his own strength and pulls back before he can draw blood, glancing at the red outline of his teeth imprinted into your leg, a ridged ring of saliva in his wake. Your head is lifted entirely to gape at him, and he looks at you with a coy expression.
“Did you just bite me?”
He smirks. “Accident. Sorry.”
“Yeah right.” Your legs shift slightly around him, but Jake can smell the twisting agony of pleasure leaking out of you — he’s never been more thankful for his Na’vi body and its strange sense of smell than he is now, to be able to pick up on the need you try to hide from him, a scent he actually understands. Normally he can admire your determination, but right now, he’s more concerned with finding out how to break down your walls and unravel you the way he knows you’ve been wanting him to for the last two months.
He smooches the bite one more time, his ears pricking when you whimper out a sort of desperately small sound and say, “Come on, Jake. You got me out here, don’t torture me about it.”
“Me eating your pussy not enough for you?” he asks smugly. He knows it would be more than enough — call him conceited, but he’s sort of an expert on it by now.
You don’t say much, nothing worth noting, at least. Jake’s ears are tall as he lifts his head slightly, but his thumb continues to rub up and down your slit, carefully smoothing over your swollen clit almost sympathetically.
“Please,” you beg in such a small and desperate voice that Jake smiles at the sound. You see his eyes flutter, half-lidded, as he cocks his head to the side until his temple is against your knee. 
“Hm? You just wanna say please and get it over and done with?” Jake mutters. “You can’t take any more of my fingers?”
“Don’t be a prick,” you whimper. “You want it, too.”
You feel that unkind heat simmer over you again, but not for the reason you expect. Jake blinks at you lazily, like an unimpressed cat, and then you watch as his eyes curve into crescent moons, the slint of gold virtually glowing in the Pandoran night. Then, the fucker smiles again, looking so smug that you feel embarrassed somehow, caught under his gaze.
“Yeah, I do,” agrees Jake. “I’ve been wanting you a long time.”
“Then, come on,” you urge. Something excited claws at you, and you feel your heartbeat race when he lifts himself slightly. “Come on, big guy. You got me out here, you win.”
He swells with pride, pleased by what is leaving your mouth in a flustered flurry. 
“You think you can take me all by yourself?” he asks, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he turns his gaze back to the clenching hole between your legs. Jake looks almost thoughtful as he stares at you, as if analysing. “You could only just take two fingers.”
For such an intelligent woman, Jake finds himself amazed when you look anxious about that statement. What, do you really think he’ll just give up and go? Jake doesn’t care if it takes all night to get himself up your snatch, because no matter what, he’ll get himself in there.
He sniggers when your mouth flounders like a little fish, your tank sliding with the angle of your body back down over your tits, but then he tuts and reaches back to pull it up. In fact, he decides it’s better off, and he uses one finger to pull the whole thing up to your chin, and lets you suffer in an anxious string of actions — you tug the tank up over your head, eyes wide, lip pouting. 
“Wanna try?” Jake asks, if not to speed along the increasing agony of his hard cock tenting under his tewng then just to put you out of your misery. “Or should I go back for seconds?”
“Jake…” Your chest rises and falls as you gape at him. He went through all the trouble to get you here, and although you never expected to look at Jake’s avatar and feel a throb between your legs, you can’t even look at him without feeling overcome with the terrible, pressing desire to squeeze whatever weapon he has under his loincloth into your cunt. Jake watches your eyes look down at the darkness between his legs, to the pretty band of string tied around his middle, and then looks back at you with a sickeningly sweet expression.
“Aw, honey. You want me to fuck you?”
It takes an incredible amount of effort not to scowl at him. Jake is lucky he looks so attractive with your arousal around his lips, otherwise you’d be up off the boulder and marching back to the labs for being so unbelievably full of himself. 
But even though he’s double your size and consumed by a cocky smugness from being able bodied and towering over you, you can’t think of enough reasons to warrant your leave. The only things on your mind are how much it’ll hurt to get him inside you, and how good it’ll feel once he is.
“That’s why you brought me here, after all, isn’t it?” you murmur, your lips curved slightly when he bows his body over you, his hands flat against the boulder on either side of your waist. “You’ve been thinking of me, right? Oeyä sayrìp tsamsiyu — you must have thought about this every time you went and found me a flower, right?”
Jake’s smile turns wolfish. “Yap, yap, yap.”
You all but whine underneath him. It is so unbecoming of you to be so desperate for something that you resort to writhing like a brat, but with Jake just straddling over you without doing anything, you feel the eager feeling of want coiling in your lower stomach. Your hole clenches around the air, as if trying to feel for Jake’s fingers again, and you lift your hips up off the boulder as if to entice him.
He barely even looks down at you, which only infuriates you more. 
For a moment, you wonder if the only reason he lured you out here was to satiate a desire of his own; maybe he just wanted to prove that he still had what it took to make a woman beg for him — though he needn’t have tried so hard, considering you’d have writhed and whined for him just as much, if not more, had he just made it known that he knew about and returned your feelings sooner.
But having you touch him in an impossible silence in the shared bunks pales in comparison to now, to having you look so small and soft and inviting; for you to beg for him, to let yourself be ravaged by him in all of his strength. Why would he prefer to have you while he feels useless when he can make the most of the strong, brawny and big body his brother passed down to him?
Jake breathes deeply through his nose and chews on the inner skin under his lips. You watch in the dark as his tail coils, his ears flat, until he lowers his body down like he’s doing a press up and pushes his nose against your sternum. 
“You smell so pretty, baby girl,” Jake mutters, pressing a kiss against the skin sloping between your tits. Biting your lip does little to suppress the moan that spills out when Jake cups one of his hands around your breast, and you hold the back of his hand as he gently squeezes. 
The hanging cloth of his tewng brushes past your pussy and you jolt in surprise, just in time for Jake to bring his mouth down over your other boob. The sheer size of Jake dwarfs every feature of yours, but something about your tiny size only excites him more. 
With his lips wrapped around your tit, you try your hardest to muffle another moan at the feeling of his tongue toying around your nipple, desperately trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the absurdly good feeling of Jake’s mouth or the tewng brushing past your pussy every time Jake rocks his hips backwards and forwards.
You clench your hand over his, feeling your legs squirm around him as his sharp teeth scrape against the squishy curve of your breast. Fear should rip through you when you feel his teeth tighten around the top of your tit, but it doesn’t; instead, a rush of warm excitement burns you from the inside out when Jake’s cheeks hollow, sucking a purple blot into your skin.
“Hey—” you say cautiously, but the damage is already done. It’s as if Jake’s determined to make you the same shade as him; the mark he leaves is blooming and bright, and he looks all too proud of himself when he looks up in acknowledgement of your voice. His tail thrashes excitedly. 
“Leaving that so everyone can see what you were doing when they wake up,” Jake explains, licking a strip from the swelling bruise to your neck for good measure. “My dirty scientist.”
That is if you ever make it back to the lab in one piece. 
Feeling the pleasure spreading across your body, you’re half contemplating staying here on this rock forever, hoping that Norm or Grace never come back here looking for samples only to find your corpse. You’re overcome with a conflicting contrast of emotions — you suddenly feel so exposed, so unraveled, half guilty for encouraging Jake to shove his big blue fingers up your crotch, and even guiltier about the fact that you want more from him.
“Enough. Come on,” you huff, and Jake dips his attention back to the rutting of your hips, the glossy shine of your arousal. “While I’m wet.”
“You really think I’m gonna let you dry up before I can get inside you?” Jake asks, as if the idea is beneath you both. “Have some confidence in me, Spellman.”
“I do. Full confidence. So, come on, gimme.”
Jake grins; he leans his weight up on one knee and in the light, you can just about see the protruding point of his tewng and feel your desire pooling. It’s only when Jake undoes the string around his waist and frees what hides beneath that you start to feel your body tense unexpectedly; it is beyond you how Jake has managed to keep the spear he calls his cock hidden for so long, and even more unthinkable as to how it will fit inside of you. 
You stare at it with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Jake holds the base of it with his hand and assesses the space between your legs again. When he guides the tip to your folds and strokes himself up and down, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your legs turn like jelly.
“You like it?” he asks, ever so sweetly, as if it’s a new gift brought back for you to enjoy. In a way, it is a gift, something for you to sample. Jake’s body seems to vibrate with nothing short of delight at the speechless state his dick has left you in — and he hasn’t even put it in yet.
“Big, right?” he continues to ask, a smirk on his face.
All you can say is, “how do you walk around with that thing?”
He barks out a laugh, his head tilted to the stars as his smirk widens. Jake then pushes the tip against you again with his thumb, choking down his amused sniggers as he drags himself up and down your cunt, and more than anything, he wishes he could see your face better in the moonlight. Luckily, Jake’s spent hours staring at you in his wheelchair to be able to piece together the smudges of your features he can see in the reflection of light hanging over the front of your mask. And what he can’t see, he’ll hear, and what he’s not satisfied with not seeing he’ll seek from you again later.
“It’ll be a tight fit,” Jake thinks out loud, prodding the tip of his cock against your entrance and looking up at you once you whimper, “but I know you can take it.”
“I dunno… Looks kind of big—”
“You can fit it in,” he tells you confidently.
But now you’ve seen it, you’re slightly nervous. “What if I can’t—?”
“You were just begging me for it,” Jake says pointedly. “While I’m wet, you said.” Then, he leans forward so that the wide slope of his nose is pushed against the front of your mask. “I don’t care if it takes all night trying. I’ll help you fit it all in, okay?”
You breathe in sharply, feeling your hips grinding up against him. Jake tries to find sympathy for you; he supposes that if he were you and some ten foot Na’vi was trying to burrow his cock between his legs, he’d be apprehensive too. 
“Just…” you rasp, watching him desperately, and he waits kindly, though his tip is on the verge of being swallowed by your cunt. Your legs tremble when he smiles at you, one hand on his cock, the other flat against the boulder. “Just go slow, okay?”
The way he looks at you is as if you’ve just said something stupidly endearing. “Sure thing, Spellman.”
Jake does his best to keep up his presented facade of coolness, but you feel so warm and wet, his arm begins to shake as he supports his weight on the boulder, grunting when he aligns his cockhead with your hole and very slightly pushes in. Even though he only just had his fingers up there, he can feel your pussy resisting, and it’s only the tip. 
Your mouth hangs open with a pained whine, the stretch uncomfortable but in spite of it, you arch your back as if trying to feel more of him inside of you.
“Easy,” he chuckles, very slowly pushing more of himself into your pussy. The noises from your mouth grow louder, and something proud purrs in his chest. His tongue pushes against the inside of his lower lip as he smirks, teeth showing, as he makes an almost amused groan. You’re insanely tight, and unbelievably squishy and wet — and hey, it’s been five years for him, too.
“Yeah,” Jake groans, pushing his hips further and pulling out, each stroke gentle and tentative. He wants more than anything to go rough, to make you mewl and cry and curl up against him, but the tearful look on your face makes him reconsider. Each time he sinks in a little bit deeper, softening the resistance of your walls as they make room for him. 
It takes an incredible amount of self restraint to stop himself from shoving all of it in at once; you’re so tight, the tightest pussy he’s ever felt closing around his cock, and easily the best. Jake closes his eyes for a second, honing in on the squeezing clench around his cock and the unnerving, uncharacteristic silence leaving your gaping mouth. 
“Talk to me, Spellman,” Jake groans, inching deeper inside. His ears perk again when you cry as he sinks in deeper. “Say something.”
“You told me I talked too much,” you manage out, admirably trying your hardest to remain quiet despite the pushing twelve inches of Na’vi cock up your cunt. Jake’s barely even inside of you; more of his dick is out than it is stuffed inside. 
“I love hearing you talk,” replies Jake, even though he had just poked fun at your ability to talk someone’s ear off. Had he known it would swear you into silence now, he’d have never said anything. What Jake wants now most of all is to hear your voice again, hear your pleasure, your instructions, your pleas. 
Hearing you slip out a high pitched moan when he pushes more of his cock inside of you feels like a reward almost. 
“Could listen to you yap away all damn day,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes finding yours behind the glaze of the exo-pack. “I know you’ve always got something to say, so why’re you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jake’s grin brightens when you manage to suck in more of his length, “Talk to me, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”
“Just… Put it in,” you whimper, and his eyes widen excitedly. 
“You said to go slow.”
“I know what I said, but I need more.” Your eyes are so blown open he’d laugh if it didn’t look so goddamn sexy. “Please, Jake.”
“You sure?” he croons. 
“Mm. Please — come on, please—!”
Jake snaps his hips forward so quickly that more than half of dick disappears inside of you, and the primal noise that leaves your mouth takes Jake completely by surprise. 
“Fucking shit, mama,” Jake groans, his voice rasped as he bows his chest over yours, dropping to his forearm on the boulder as he adjusts to the warmth enveloping him. “Holy shit.”
You swallow a deep breath, your hands gripping tightly to Jake’s shoulders which forces his eyes to your face. He can make out the distinct shimmer of tears under your eyes, and he brushes his fingers across the side of your neck, tapping you to bring your eyes open and searching for him in the dark. 
“You with me?” he asks, chuckling slightly. “You good?”
“Oh my god,” you squeal, cunt clenching. “Wait—”
“Breathe,” Jake says quietly, pressing a kiss to the swollen bruise he sucked into your skin earlier. “You can do it, pretty girl.”
“Keep moving, it hurts when you just stay still.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, his hips falling back into a slow rhythm to keep you adjusted to his twitching cock. It’s almost disturbing how easily you’re taking him now he’s forced more of his length inside, how wet and responsive you seem to be as he sinks deeper into you.
At first, Jake goes slow, familiarising himself with every noise you give him, every twitch and shift in your body, every clench around him. You feel the smooth ridges of his cock kissing your insides, the sensation unfamiliar and strange but so fucking good. He snakes one hand under your back when you lift up off the boulder; his large palm is flat against the arch of your spine, his fingers curled around your hip. 
You look like a toy underneath him, something he could easily just hold with one hand and fuck himself up into.
His hips snap again, faster than he intended, and more of his dick disappears inside of you. You could easily take all of him if he took his time getting you to that point, but the warmth wrapping around him like a glove is so sinful that he can’t think of anything less appealing than going slow. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and squeezes your waist with his hand; one desperate little cry from your mouth later, and Jake forgives himself for having waited so long to get you in this position, to fuck you stupid. 
It’s been so long since Jake’s been able to fuck a woman like this, and for his first time since his accident to be with you, of all people — well, Jake could think of no greater victory, no better reward for all the shit he’s endured so far. 
He stares down at the gap between your legs, watching as his dick vanishes and reappears with every rock of his hips. You’re taking it so well, like a champion. Pride blooms in his chest — he’d expect nothing less from his woman.
Pulling your hips down slightly to meet him as he thrusts up, Jake shoulders the control and moans in a low tone, pushing until he feels your body seize underneath him. Then, he pulls back, falls back in, and gets himself comfortable.
The stretch no longer burns the way it did, but you feel as though you can barely breathe as Jake ruts his hips up. He’s so big in every definition of the word. He doesn’t seem to notice nor care about the deep indent of your fingernails in his shoulder; he seems entirely devoted to gaining momentum, creating his own pace with his ears flat against his bowed head.
“God… Jake,” you moan, feeling the slight point of the boulder against your shoulder blades and his hand squeezing your middle as you finally speak, after what feels like eons of silence to Jake.
He latches his gaze to the rise and fall of your breasts as he fucks you, his breathing heavy. “Oh, you like that?”
Ever so slightly, he hastens his pacing, eliciting a tearful sob from your mouth. “Mmf—”
“Is it everything you hoped for?”
His stomach churns when you laugh, albeit with a strangled kind of tone, and clench around his cock again.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“So’re you,” he points out, lifting his chest slightly to glance down at your stomach. It should be criminal how turned on he feels by the sight of his own dick outlined in your lower tummy — it should be criminal how insanely good it feels knowing he’s fucking a part of you nobody else has before. You’ve lost all self control as you decide to let yourself be noisy, which Jake is all too pleased to hear.
Peering down at your hips, you marvel at the sight of Jake’s frightening length pushing up against your stomach. It looks just as weird as it feels. Jake hisses and runs a hand across the spot his dick is hitting.
“Feel that?” he asks. He knows you do. It’s a stupidly dumb question, but you whine at it all the same. “I told you it would fit. Look at you, taking it all, no problem.”
“Mhm. Feels good; so, so, so good, Jake…” Your body feels limp and tingly, and you let your head fall back so your gaze is pointed up at the sky. Even as you blink dazed up at them, they have the striking appearance of Jake’s skin, the dark blue wash of sky with littered balls of bright white light. The image of him is printed on your mind, and no matter where you look to avoid his gaze, you find him again.
Jake shifts. Keeping his dick sliding in and out of you with more of an upbeat rhythm than before, he bows his chest back over yours and brings his ears close to your ear.
“A perfect fit for my perfect girl,” he mutters. He becomes so reliant on his one hand on the boulder when he uses the other to hold your leg up around his waist, bringing forth an entirely new burn from the stretch of it. His breath is warm on your ear, making you shudder. “How long you been waiting for me, baby?”
You scoff disbelievingly, trying to think of something to say despite your mind being both full and empty at the same time. All you can think about is the building pressure in your tummy.
“Long,” you offer, snaking a hand up his neck to the back of his head. 
Jake licks his tongue across the arch of skin connecting your neck to your collar. “Thinking of me with your fingers up your cunt at night, huh?” His hand squeezes around your middle when you begin to shift with his thrusts further up the boulder. Even with your loud cries in his ear, Jake can hear the squelching wetness around his cock, the tightening spasms around his length bringing him closer to giving in to the dull ache in his own stomach. “Bet you wheelchair Jake Sully couldn’t make you feel like this. Next time you get off to the thought of him, I want you to think of what we’re doing right now, about who’s got you feeling this way.”
“How…how do you even know about that?” you gasp, half pleasured by his thrusting and half horrified by the revelation that Jake might have been privy to the fact you masturbated with him in mind when everyone went to bed at night.
Actually, he didn’t know. But he sniggers smugly that his teasing jeer turned out to be true. 
Jake presses a kiss to your collar and peppers a line of them up until he is thwarted by the mask covering your face. Peering down at your face hidden behind it, Jake gives you a sad pout and says, “I wanna go fast.”
“I…” you start, his hips already moving and you feel the heat simmering below again. Anymore from him, and you’ll be finished, cumming all over him. “I don’t think… I’ll — I’m gonna—”
“Then let’s get it done,” he says with as much finality and refine as he can muster before he picks himself back up, finding the energy he had before to pin you down against the boulder. You keep your leg wrapped around his waist as he sets one hand down over your tummy, the other on your shoulder, and then the real fun begins for him.
Jake isn’t ignorant to the twisting ache inside of him — like you, he knows he probably doesn’t have that much longer until he’s completely tuckered out and ready to fill you up. What can he say? It’s been a long time, and he doesn’t have the same kind of stamina as he used to. You’re tightening up around him in anticipation; it’s like being gripped in a vice. 
He pulls his hips back and then pistons himself back in with so much speed that you almost fly up off the boulder in surprise. Too fast, he thinks, so he gets accustomed to a regular fast pace and sticks to it loyally. In return, he’s rewarded with a litany of pretty sounds, your hands curling around his arms, desperately trying to hold on. 
“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jake groans, feeling your cunt fluttering around him as he fucks in and out, slipping in and out of your wetness as if he owns it. The hand that’s pressing your shoulder slips to your throat, and while he doesn’t squeeze, you claw your fingers around his and feel his grip tighten ever so slightly. 
“Fuck!” you squeal, clamping your eyes closed suddenly. “Shit—Jake, baby—”
He moans at that, really moans. A ringing rises in volume in his ears as his thrusts grow more rapid, relentlessly smacking his hips up until he slides all of his dick inside of you. 
God, you’re fucking perfect — he can’t name many women, if any at all, who could take a dick this size with as much ease as you are now. But the increasing pressure in your tummy is so overwhelming that you’re not even too aware of the size of what’s getting comfortable inside of you. All you know and understand is that in the next three seconds, you’ll be seeing white.
Jake’s name falls like a mantra from your lips, and he looks at you in surprise to see that you’ve very bravely opened your eyes to stare at him, although the tears lining your waterline and smeared down your cheeks make your stare look ten times more attractive to him. He almost wishes he hadn’t looked — his hips stagger slightly and he growls, the noise earning him another whiney moan from the undone woman beneath him, the woman he’s committed to filling with his cum and making his.
“I—!” You say nothing — you don’t even have to. Jake feels your cunt strangling his length like a goddamn fist, and by the buffering look of pure ecstasy on your face, he’s fairly certain all of those things mean you’re about to cum.
“Yeah, mama, cum for me,” Jake coaxes. “Lemme feel you.”
The warmth around him clenches, and all of a sudden, your body seizes with a jolt, your back arched so high off the boulder that it leaves him hitting entirely new angles inside of you, pushing your orgasm to a new level. 
For you, it feels like you’ve been blown up. Your entire body is consumed by a blazing heat, your legs going immediately limp as you cum around him. Jake’s eyes instantly shift to your quivering hips, to your cunt still swallowing him up, the white dribbles of cum leaking down the length of his cock. He watches the small cluster of glowing freckles decorating his dick disappear behind a rolling drop of your cum and his jaw goes slack.
“My girl,” he crows, his head bowing as he eagerly fucks into you a few more times, muttering the same thing as he does: “Oh, my girl, my pretty girl—”
The hand around your throat rips itself away only to squeeze into your hips, as though Jake intends to leave fingerprints there once he’s done. He grips you tightly and with a monumental and low, throaty moan, he snaps his hips one final time and feels a tug in his tummy.
You probably feel him cum before he does. Jake seems caught up in his thrusts while you register the unmissable burst of warmth inside of you, ropes of cum spilling out as if his sole intention were to breed you, stuff you full of his seed. 
In actual fact, Jake just wanted to fuck you silly, fill you with boat loads of cum, and bask in the evil satisfaction of watching Norm smell Jake all over you, claiming you as his. 
“Mm—fuck, Jake!” you rasp, squeezing your little hands around his wrists. The feeling is enough to bring him up to the surface he was drowning under, the ringing in his ears dulling as he catches his breath and opens his eyes, staring down at the embarrassingly wet mixture of cum and juice between your legs. 
He stays inside of you for a moment, his dick still hard and even more pronounced up your cunt than it was before, and it’s as if his eyes are unfocused in absolute awe as he observes the sight of you stretched open, locking him in place greedily. 
It sinks in that you managed to fit all of him in, that he just used his avatar to fuck you in the forest behind the lab. You. Norm’s sister. The object of his desire. The woman of his literal dreams.
Jake lets out a loud and heavy breath, a sigh of relief, and rubs his palms up and down your stomach gently. Despite having had him fucking you just seconds before, you feel a heat flush over your face when he looks up at your face, sweaty and tear-stained under the exo-pack, and he grins wolfishly.
“You’re incredible,” he laughs, which makes the act of looking at him feel ten times more rewarding. Your body warms with the praise: all you’ve wanted was for Jake to like you back, and now, to be full of his cum and knowing he thinks you’re incredible… You laugh with him. 
A few disbelieving laughs later, and Jake finally moves his hands under your thighs and slowly pulls himself out of you. The bump of each ridge along his length knocks past you, and Jake stifles a howl of laughter at the whiney, high-pitched moan you make as his cock pulls out of you with a slick, wet pop. He cranes his head slightly to watch his cum pool out of you and you pick yourself up on your forearms, looking for his dick between his legs to have a final peek, a good look at him covered in your cum and his…
Your eyes widen. “Your cum glows.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “What? Scientist of Pandora didn’t know Na’vi cum glowed?”
“I haven’t exactly had a selection of Na’vi men or women to tell me that it did!” you reason, your eyes still marvelling curiously at the shiny soft blue stain over the hanging fruit between his legs. 
He hums, poking a finger against your folds and smirking when you flinch. “Hm. Put that in your research notes. Wanna take samples?”
“Fuck off,” you laugh, keeping your legs wide as you struggle to sit upright. The discomfort between your legs is suddenly making itself known, and already the cum around your pussy and thighs is drying, sticky and thick. “Jesus, Sully. Look at me.”
“I know,” grins Jake, his eyes soaking up the image of you. “You’re fucking sexy.”
You roll your eyes with a twisting smile. While Jake seems incredibly fascinated with the marks he has either left accidentally or on purpose over your body, you groan and roll your shoulders. Frankly, you wish Jake had just thrown you down on the grass and fucked you there — in hindsight, the boulder had been a bad idea and you know it will come to haunt you in the morning.
Lazily, and yet with a rush of shame and exhilaration, you glance back at the lab, sitting in the curve of moonlight and caged by bioluminescent flowers and shrubs, each glowing vibrant spectrums of cyan and purple and lime. 
“You’re the luckiest woman alive if nobody heard you yapping,” Jake says playfully, rising upright to stretch the agonised muscles of his legs. “You’re so noisy, honey.”
“I apologise for not thinking too much about the volume of my voice,” you drawl sarcastically, your eyes still glued to the glazed thick glass windows looking into the back of the lab. Anxiously, you glance at him, “Was I that loud?”
He gives you a tight, sympathetic smile. You frown.
“You weren’t quiet yourself, you know,” you grumble, feeling the pinch in your back ease slightly.
“Yep.” And he seems smug about that fact, for reasons beyond you, although you wager a guess as to why he seems proud all of a sudden.
As you shuffle awkwardly off the boulder, you wince as you lean for your shorts and panties, dropping a little look at the sliding dollop of cum slipping out of you. 
“You gotta keep it in there,” Jake says. 
“Jake, as soon as I stand up and walk around, it’s all gonna come pouring out anyway.”
His lip curls with disappointment as he watches his cum drip out of you onto the edge of the boulder, splatting on the wisps of grass around your ankles. It’s a good thing he’s full of copious reserves of cum to give back to you another time.
“Can’t wait for Norm to get a whiff of me,” Jake tells you, and you fight the urge to sigh and roll your eyes, because of course — of course that had been a motive for the gallon of glowing blue sperm Jake just squoze into you. “The look on his face when he figures out I’ve been breedin’ his little sister—”
“I have never been more thankful of the fact that Na’vi and humans can’t reproduce together. Hand on my heart, I mean that.”
You slide your shorts and panties back up your legs and reach for your thrown tank top. The inconspicuous smudges of green from the boulder across the back of it fill you with a puny drop of dread — you’ll just pray really hard to both God and Eywa that nobody pays it any mind. 
That and the bulbous bruise on your tit, the bite on your leg, the finger indents on your hips.
“I was doing that thing you were doing. Killing two birds with one stone,” Jake says as he searches the ground for his tewng. “Fucking you ‘cause I wanted to and fucking you because I know wanting you is gonna piss off your annoying big brother.”
You had said that, hadn’t you? And even though the entire scheme of Jake wanting to scorn your brother so badly that he has to use you as a human fuck-toy seems ludicrous, you can’t deny the very minuscule jolt of thrill it gives you. It would be fun to piss Norm off a little bit. He has been a total arse lately.
“Norm’s all you think about,” you tease. “You sure you don’t like him instead?”
“Shut up.”
Jake hands you your cardigan with an amused smile, his tail whipping to and fro happily. 
“Your coat, ma’am.”
“Love how you only have one thing to slip back into,” you point out as you take the cardigan from him, and he reaches for the tewng and chuckles. “You could’ve just lifted it up.”
“Could’ve, would’ve, didn’t,” he replies.
There’s an uncharacteristic silence between you both as you climb back into your clothes, and while Jake fiddles with his tewng with his tongue between his lips, you look back at the lab and sigh. 
Somewhere in that lab is the man you’ve been thinking of for two months — Jake in his human form, lying in a link unit as he takes control through another body. You wonder what he might think when he wakes up: will he come searching for you in the dark? Come kiss you, tell you how he feels?
Jake creeps up to you with an alarming light foot, and the feeling of his hand on top of your head makes you look up suddenly. 
“What’s on your mind?” he asks. 
“You,” you sigh, looking back at the lab. “Are you going to follow through with tonight when you’re back as yourself, or is this an avatar Jake exclusive?”
“Come on. You still want that loser in there?” Jake feels his heart tug — he doesn’t know if to feel offended that you’re still thinking of someone else, or flattered because that someone else is technically him, the real him, the version of him that Jake hates the most.
“You’re so mean to him,” you grumble. Then pause, and add, “To you. That’s literally still you in there. If anything, doesn’t that make me look a little bit obsessed?” Jake gently pushes your head as you fall into a slow walk in the direction of the remote lab. “Wow. Actually, I just realised that’s true.”
“Finding out that you liked me was the only reason I started spending more than five minutes at a time in the lab,” Jake tells you. 
“Who told you?”
You both accept a short silence as you stride past the wall that most of the bunks are built against, and you feel an anxious knot forming in your stomach when the clearing at the front of the lab expands into view. 
“I meant it when I said you were horrible at hiding your crush on me,” Jake reminds you. 
Right. 
The tsawksyul Jake found you is thankfully still where you left it, and you slip out of Jake’s touch to fetch it from under the window, but when you turn to him, his eyes are pulled back across the miles of suspended mountains.
“You have somewhere else to be?” you call.
His top lip curls into a half pout as he says, “Not now. But tomorrow I’ve got to do some hunting. If I make a clean kill, I start my iknimaya.”
“Impressive,” you comment, twirling the tsawksyul between your fingers. “You… Will you be gone long?”
Jake hesitates for a moment. Is he reading into it, or are you looking a little bit more crestfallen now you know he’ll be gone for a little while longer?
“Why, you wanna go again?” he asks with a laugh.
“Respectfully, I think my vagina is broken and I need to lie down,” you quip, making him laugh even more. “I was just…curious. If you’re gone too long, I’ll be asleep before you get back.”
Jake creeps towards you and drops to a painful crouch. He’s definitely going to feel the cry and protest in his legs in the morning from being haunched for so long. Still, he frames your face with his hands and takes a long look at your face.
“I’ll roll past your bed extra quietly,” he promises. 
You snort and push yourself away from him. “Safe travels, big guy. I’ll see you in the morning?”
Peering up at him, you breathe in the sight of him one last time as he nods once and rises to stand. The long shadow drawn by his lithe figure falls over you.
“Affirmative,” he states. You look up at him for a second and smile. Did it take having his cock in your stomach for you to realise how pretty he is like this, or have you known all along?
“Go,” you tell him, nodding towards the edge of the cliff before turning to the door. Over your shoulder, Jake scoffs a laugh and turns on his heels, his eyes scanning the mountain range as he approaches the edge. 
The bravery you had before died long ago and you quickly twist the air-lock to the door and force it open, your heart in your throat. You don’t look back at him, even when he looks back at you with an endearing smile on his face.
The lab is deathly silent when you slide back inside. You were half expecting someone to stir at the sound of the door sealing shut, but if anyone’s awake, they make no effort to show it. Tip-toeing to the small bathroom, you very hurriedly go about your business and wipe away the eternal flood of cum from between your legs. With the amount Jake just put inside you, you’re fairly confident that even a human with an average sense of smell could sniff him all over you.
The long stalk back to your bunk is made silently and carefully. Norm is fast asleep on the top bunk he unhappily shares with Jake, the aforementioned’s bunk empty and cold, the link unit whirring quietly. Just the sight and sound of it makes you unnaturally nervous, and you turn to speed towards your bottom bunk and peer at Trudy. She’s out like a light. 
The thin blanket is pulled to your chin once you settle in the sheets, and you refuse to accept that it’s cowardice you feel when the sound of the link unit slowly begins to fade and Jake hauls himself out with a pained groan. You remain very still as he fumbles for his chair, though you fight the urge to get up, help him and while you’re at it, kiss him until he can’t breathe.
You hope your acting has improved since your terrible attempts of hiding your crush and try to make it look as though you’re asleep, but the distinct sound of rolling wheels makes its way towards where you sleep; you steady your breaths so it looks like you’re out of it, and perhaps Jake will fall for it this time. 
Your stomach tightens when the wheels stop next to your bed, and you’re uncomfortably aware of the set of eyes staring at you curled up and facing the wall.
Jake’s hand brushes the back of your head gently, and you’re not sure if that means you’ve been caught, but then you feel Jake’s fingers brush a section of hair away from your neck and nearly sigh at the feeling of his mouth pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. It is so sweet, so fond and gentle, and annoyingly quick. He pulls away and the sound of wheels roll towards his own bunk.
Every sound he makes feels like it’s right in your ear. 
You almost wish you’d rolled over and took his face into your hands. But Jake’s smooch against your nape feels like a stolen secret, something shared between only you two, something special. 
No matter, you think as you wriggle to get comfortable. He’ll be there in the morning. And it’ll be the man you’ve wanted the entire time who wants you back who receives all your stirring desires.
1K notes · View notes
bleedingoptimism · 6 months
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Steve likes to watch youtube videos of a guy who restores old consoles. It soothing to him, it relaxes him. He likes watching how he restores them, fixes them, makes them look brand new.
He also enjoys watching him work for… other reasons. Weirdly, he thinks the guy is kind of hot, even if he never shows his face. He looks fit, with the way his shirts stretch over his chest and are loose on his tiny waist and he’s always wearing cool belts, black leather with studs or chains. He likes the way he moves around, manic and a little clumsy but incredibly precise when necessary.
Steve especially likes watching his hands, thick strong fingers, bony wrists, noticeable veins, and short clean nails that sometimes have chipped black polish adorning them.
He sometimes thinks about those hands when he's alone, but, well… no one needs to know about that.
🎮🤲💖
Eddie has a fairly popular youtube channel… And a huge crush on his next-door neighbor. He simply cannot decide if the dude is cutter than hot or vice-versa.
'He sure is nice, though,' he thinks, when one day he gets a large package of replacement parts that he’s struggling to get inside and the guy walks up to him, asks if he needs any help, and takes the heaviest box with no effort at all.
He says his name is Steve and then stares at Eddie's hand for a really long time when Eddie extends it for him to shake after getting the boxes inside his studio.
He hears Steve’s little 'oh', under his breath and then sees him blush prettily before mumbling ‘He needs to go, now.' And stumbling out of Eddie’s place.
Eddie chuckles to himself as he watches him leave, definitely cute AND hot in equal parts.
🎮🤲💖
A few weeks later Steve's mom tells him she needs help getting rid of some of his nonno's old things and he finds a LOT of cool stuff that look just like the ones Eddie restores on his channel.
He and Eddie have been slowly getting friendlier over these last couple of weeks and he’s been dying to have an excuse to talk to him more, so he takes the items home and then goes to Eddie's and very nervously tries to offer them to him but doesn't know how to explain he knows he's a youtuber without looking like a weirdo because Eddie’s never shown his face.
He stumbles and blushes a lot, barely making any sense and Eddie mistakenly thinks he's trying to ask him out and says, 
"I'd love to go on a date with you," Smiling and hiding his dimples behind a lock of hair he's been playing with since the moment Steve started stuttering.
Steve completely forgets what he was trying to say or do and says he'll pick him out at 6.
The date is amazing, it feels like they are meant to be. They get along so well, talking, laughing, and already making fun of each other as if they’re old friends. And they are definitely attracted to one another. If the way Eddie practically tackles Steve with his rush to get his mouth on him when they get back, it’s any indication.  
Steve is very on board with this and he enthusiastically kisses him back. They kiss desperately as he fumbles with his door handle to get it open. When he succeeds, he walks them backward into his place not wanting to stop kissing Eddie, but stumbles and falls flat on his ass.
When Eddie turns on the light he sees Steve sprawled on top of a bunch of boxes full of old technology. A lot of emotions go through his face, ‘he’s so expressive’ Steve thinks a little enamored, having still not realized how much trouble he’s in.
But Eddie looks confused, then shocked and scared, and finally, angry,
"Steve, what the fuck?"
‘Oh, shit…’
“I can explain!” he says immediately, standing up and walking toward Eddie as he backs away,
“I didn’t want to ask you out-” Steve starts but interrupts himself when Eddie huffs, turns, and starts walking towards his own apartment, “Shit, fuck! No- That’s not what I meant, Eddie! Wait-”
He turns again and glares at Steve but then his eyes go wide, “Steve,”
“Please, let me explain-”
“Steve-”
“I did- do! Want to ask you out! I like yo-”
“Steve!” Eddie screams and Steve stops, shocked, and finally focuses. Eddie is staring at him and he’s so pale even his freckles have changed color. But no, wait. He’s not staring at him, he’s staring at his arm and Steve looks down to see… a lot of blood.
“Oh,” he says faintly. He must have cut himself on a sharp edge when he fell. Too worried about Eddie, he hadn’t even noticed the pain, but now that he’s seeing the cut, it fucking hurts.
“Oh,” he says again, realizing he’s feeling kind of dizzy, ‘that's way too much blood,’ he thinks.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie huffs, takes off his flannel shirt and wrapping it around Steve's arm, he pulls Steve by his other hand toward his van.
“Oh no, your cute shirt,” he mumbles and hears Eddie snort before he slams the door of the passenger seat and goes to the driver’s one.
They go to the hospital in silence. It's tense. Steve tries to explain himself but Eddie shuts him up harshly, tells him to save his energy.
Even so, when they get there, Eddie still holds him gently by his good arm as he helps him inside. He tells the nurse what happened because Steve is having a hard time focusing right now and then tells him he’ll wait outside for him.
He gets stitches and a tetanus shot just in case because he doesn't remember when was the last time he got one and gets weird looks when he refuses painkillers, but no arguments. He’s given a little juice box and is told he can't get up until he finishes it.
A few seconds after the nurse leaves, the door opens and Eddie walks in. Steve looks up and smiles at him, but Eddie doesn’t smile back and Steve shrinks a little on himself.
Eddie sits on the chair facing the overbed table Steve is perched on and sighs, moving his hand in little circles motioning like, ‘Well go on. Explain yourself’
Steve looks around the room and thinks about where to start. He can't look Eddie in the eye, so he stares at the little juice box in his hands. It's got a cartoon orange in the front. The drawing it’s awful and kind of scary.
Taking a deep breath, he starts, “I've been watching your videos for a long time now. I have- I am- I-”
He fumbles for what to say, even if this date is already ruined…it's not exactly a good first date topic, is it? How fucked up he’s inside.
In a flash, images of his father’s violence, running from home with his mom, going to live with his nonno, taking care of him as he slowly lost his mind with age while his mom worked her ass off to feed them, getting cheated on, losing his “friends” because he didn't want to bully freshmen, working as a babysitter and getting almost beat up to death by his kid’s stepbrother… he shakes his head and shrugs,
“I've been through some…stuff” is what he says in the end, looking up at Eddie. He doesn't look mad anymore, his expressive eyes look concerned. Steve worries about what was it Eddie saw in his own expression, but it surprises him how easily he read him. He’s usually so good at hiding it. 
He breathes in again and keeps going, “Your videos, they calm me down when I've, sometimes I get anxious and-” he clears his throat, again, not wanting to tell Eddie about the panic attacks, the nightmares.
But it seems he doesn't have to, Eddie looks at him like he gets it.
It makes Steve want to keep talking, “Watching you work, seeing you fix things, leave them like new, no sca- marks, no problems, just working again and beautifully clean. It makes me feel better.” 
Eddie gives him a small smile and Steve returns it, “I really like your hands…” he blurts out and then closes his mouth quickly, blushing furiously.
Eddie’s eyes go wide and then he smirks and stands up slowly walking up to him and taking Steve’s hands on his own, they both stare at their joined hands for a while, the touch feather-like and soft.
“You recognized me because of my hands?” Eddie asks him a little incredulous.
Steve giggles, “I saw the logo for your channel on your studio that day I helped you with the boxes,” he clarifies sheepishly.
Eddie blushes and opens his mouth in a silent ‘oh,’
Steve draws small circles on Eddie's knuckles with his thumbs, “When I came over today, I was just trying to offer you those stuff at my place, they were my grandfather's” he explains, “I didn’t know how to say I knew who you were without looking like a weirdo and I got nervous and you thought I was going to ask you out and I wasn’t planning to but you are so beautiful I-
Eddie kisses his cheek and Steve shuts up and looks at him surprised,
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Eddie says, “I thought- I don’t know what I thought- I was just upset you didn’t actually like me.” 
And Steve immediately answers, “I like you” a little too excitedly.
Eddie smiles at him so warmly it makes his heart rate pick up, “Good. I like you too.”
He blushes and looks down at their hands again unsure, “Do you really? Even tho I’m…”
“What?” Eddie asks, squeezing his hands reassuringly.
“Broken?” Steve whispers.
Eddie hums and drops his hands to hold his face, “Not broken, baby” he says lovingly and kisses the crease between Steve’s brows, the top of his eyelid, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Then hugs him and Steve buries his face on Eddie's neck, and breathes him in.
A minute goes by or an hour, Steve is not sure, and Eddie leans back enough to kiss him again softly and whispers, “Some things don't need to be fixed Steve, just held.” 
𝒻𝒾𝓃
coffee? a hug? ☕🥐💕
1K notes · View notes
s-4pphics · 6 months
Text
click! 1 (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 
two. three. four.
A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall
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“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 
Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 
“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”
Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 
“I got that internship— “
All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 
“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 
Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 
Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 
“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 
“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “
“Maya.” 
“Hm?”
“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 
You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 
People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 
Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 
It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 
“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 
Oh God. “What?” 
She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “
The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  
“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 
Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 
“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 
“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 
“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”
When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 
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DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 
DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 
DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 
It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 
DENY REQUEST. 
DENY REQUEST. 
DENY REQUEST. 
You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 
Why are people… so odd? 
The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 
Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!
All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 
Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 
They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 
You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 
ELLIE WILLIAMS. 
Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 
temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 
… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.
At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 
She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 
But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 
You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.
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“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 
Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 
Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 
A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 
“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 
She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 
You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “
“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 
“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 
Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 
“You’re so fucking extra— “
DING!
Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 
“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 
Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  
“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 
You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 
“The wettest. Go.” 
You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 
You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 
“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 
“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 
Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 
“Alright.” 
More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 
“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 
“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 
More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 
“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 
She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 
“What’d I say!” 
“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 
“Oh, yeah.” 
“Oh yeah what.” 
“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 
A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 
Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 
Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 
… Cute. 
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You’re going to fail statistics over a random.
Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 
She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 
Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 
Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 
The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 
Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 
“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 
“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 
She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 
You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 
Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 
“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 
A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 
She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 
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“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 
Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 
“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 
Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 
“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 
The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 
“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 
“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 
“Sike.” 
You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 
“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “
You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”
“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “
Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 
Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 
“Right.” 
“I do, what the he— “
“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 
“Hm?” 
“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “
Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 
“Wait— “
“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 
Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 
Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 
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Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 
When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 
You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 
At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 
“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 
Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 
“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 
She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 
Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 
“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 
“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 
She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 
“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 
“Damn… My fault.” 
“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 
“Go out! Find somebody!” 
You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “
“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 
You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.
“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 
Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 
“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 
“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “
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Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 
You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 
It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 
Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 
Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 
Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 
You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 
Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 
When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 
Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 
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The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 
A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—
“I’m here,” She states plainly. 
“… Why?” You croak.
Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 
“To move in.” 
“… Why?”
Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 
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Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 
“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 
“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “
“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 
Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 
She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?
Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 
“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 
Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”
Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 
What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...
For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 
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tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane
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baptismbaby · 8 months
Text
† GOD, FORGIVE ME
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mean!ellie williams x innocent!reader a/n: i also posted this on my ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: reader is an extremely innocent christian girl, blaspheming, corruption, drug dealer!ellie, petnames (pup is used in case anyone doesn't like that), fingering (r! receiving), belittling, toxic!ellie, oral (r!receiving), virgin!reader
creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the picture of ellie.
wc: 5.2k<3 part two here
You breathed a sigh of relief as you entered the gates of Jackson on your horse. You had just finished up patrol and was ready to collapse in your bed. You looked over at Dina and smiled. “Man, I’m happy to be home.”
“Me too,” Dina agreed with a laugh. “Things got too intense out there.”
“Yeah, luckily I was there to save your life.”
Dina scoffed. “Oh, shut up. I had it but of course, you had to show off.”
You hopped off your horse and led it to the stables, passing it off to the man on duty. “Here she is,” you said. “Get your rest, Ginger!”
Dina said goodbye to Japan, running to catch up with you. “Hey, I forgot to mention but Jesse said he wanted to throw a party tonight. It’ll be small, not too many people at all.”
You raised an eyebrow. “A party? Really?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun! Jesse and his friends got some liquor and cups from Seth. Perfect timing too since everyone has the weekend off.”
“Dina,” you began. But before you could continue, Dina cut you off.
“I’m not saying you have to drink with us! I know you’re a good little Christian girl,” she joked.
You frowned. “Hey, that’s not nice.”
“Please come,” she begged. “It wouldn’t be fun without you.”
“What exactly do I bring to the table? It’s not like I can do anything,” you said. 
Dina stepped in front of you and placed her hands on your arms to stop you. “Listen, just please come and stay for at least half an hour. If you want to leave, you can. I won’t stop you or try to convince you to stay. I wanna have a good time with my friends and you’re one of my favorites. Please don’t let me suffer with all of Jesse’s friends. They’re… too male, almost.”
You sighed in defeat. “Ugh, fine! I’ll go if you really want me to.”
Dina clapped her hands in excitement. “Good! Come, I have some clothes you can borrow that’ll look real nice on you.”
You groaned as Dina pulled you by your hand, taking you to her place. She couldn’t contain how happy she felt. You never came to parties with her. They were rare and usually happened once every couple of months. Usually, you wouldn’t give in to Dina’s begging. You would just go home, curl up with a book and fall asleep before the party even began. Dina would come over the next day to tell you all the “sinful” things that went on. You didn’t understand what half of the things she said even meant, you were far too sheltered growing up and focused on reading the Bible most of the time.
“Who’s all gonna be there?” you asked as you walked inside her house.
“Well, I know Jesse’s whole group of friends are coming. Then there’s you, me, and…” she trailed off, looking away. You tilted your head to try and catch her attention. She fought hard not to look your way but you still kept trying to make eye contact until she finally looked at you. “Ellie,” she almost whispered. You sneered at the mention of the Williams girl.
“Ugh, I should’ve known,” you murmured. “Of course Ellie would be there.”
“Seriously, why do you two bicker so much?” Dina asked. “It’s like watching two kids fight over a toy. Or… really, more so like watching someone yell at a puppy for no reason.”
Your face fell. “Oh no… am I the puppy Dina? Please, don’t say I’m the puppy.”
Dina bit her lip and shrugged. “I mean… your comebacks are… something else.”
“What? Are you saying I can’t be mean?”
Dina couldn’t hide the smile growing on her face as she tried not to laugh. “You once said ‘bless your heart’ and that you’d pray for her.”
You scoffed as she broke into fits of laughter. “Hey, ‘bless your heart’ is the worst insult to receive where I come from! Sorry I felt bad afterwards and told her I’d pray for her!”
“Oh, I’m just messing. It’ll be alright. I’ll tell Ellie to cool it. I honestly don’t think she means anything by it. You’re just easy to tease,” Dina said as she made way to her closet. She pulled out a black longsleeve and extremely short shorts. “Here, wear this.”
You made a face at the outfit. “Is that not a bit… much?”
“Loosen up a bit! I think it’ll look real nice on your figure. Make the girlies pop out a little,” she said with a wink. 
You undressed and put the outfit Dina gave you on. She was right but left out the fact that the shorts revealed too much, your ass practically hanging out. The shirt fell just above your belly button. Dina gawked at the sight of you. “Hey, you should dress slutty more often.”
You couldn’t help but to admire yourself in the mirror. You were big on dressing as modest and comfortable as possible. You didn’t realize you had curves until now. “Wow… I think I kinda like this?”
“What can I say, I’m a genius,” bragged Dina.
-
You and Dina arrived at the party an hour later. Jesse opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Dina grinned. “I know right?”
Jesse looked you up and down then back at Dina. “Wow, I’m impressed,” he said, complimenting the both of you. “Come in.”
As you walked in, everyone stopped and stared. “Holy shit, you clean up nice!” one of the boys exclaimed. You shifted and looked down at the ground, too anxious to look at anyone. You were way out of your comfort zone but a part of you sort of enjoyed it. Your eyes wandered over to the couch where Ellie sat. She was rolling a joint, paying no mind to you. 
Dina walked over to her and leaned to whisper something in her ear. You stood there, watching Ellie’s face twist in disgust. You tried reading her lips, it looked like she said your name followed by the word “sensitive.” Dina smacked Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie began searching around the room until her eyes landed on you. Her eyebrows went up before turning to Dina. You couldn’t see her lips anymore but saw a smirk grow on Dina’s face.
Everyone took a shot and headed towards the couch. You followed, sitting on the ground next to Dina. You were kinda mad that to your right was Ellie, who now sat on the edge of the couch so the guys could sit next to her. She was so close that you could smell the soap she used. Ellie looked down at you, holding the joint out. Before you could decline, she passed it to the guy sitting next to her instead. “Shit, I forgot,” she said. “You’re too good to smoke.”
You glared at her smug face. “I don’t think I’m too good to smoke.”
“Well, you’re too good to drink.”
She reached over to grab an unopened bottle from the table. She grabbed two glasses and poured the liquor into each one. “I’m not too good to drink either!” you exclaimed, defending yourself.
Ellie chuckled. “Right,” she muttered. She went to grab the shot but you grabbed it first, downing it quickly. You coughed as it burned your throat.
“Woah,” Ellie blurted out sarcastically. “You took one shot, cool.”
You grabbed the other glass angrily and downed it too, slamming it back down on the table. 
“Jesus!” said Dina, grabbing your shoulder. “Take it slow, you don’t wanna get sick.”
At this point, the joint had reached Dina. She passed it to you to pass over to Ellie but you took a hit instead. You inhaled the smoke deeply and blew it out without coughing. You handed it to Ellie who had a playful smirk on her face. “Wow, I think I’m actually impressed.”
“Whatever,” you uttered, standing up to leave the circle. You went into the kitchen to take another shot. For some reason, you felt you had to prove to Ellie that you weren’t just a goody two shoes and that you could have fun. You knew that in order for the Jackson dealer to take you seriously, you would have to commit. 
After a couple shots, you slightly stumbled back to the circle. Dina looked concerned until you giggled. “Oh, boy. This is great,” you slurred, your eyes heavy from the weed. Dina laughed and wrapped an arm around you. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to let loose!”
You looked up at Ellie, who was looking further down than your face with furrowed brows. She looked back up and quickly turned away. “Lightweight,” she said.
“Oh, shut it, Ellie,” you snapped. “Just for a second could you please just shut up!”
Ellie laughed. “Good Christian girl suddenly thinks she’s the shit all cause she took a hit off a blunt and a couple shots.”
Everyone groaned, tired of the constant arguing between the two. Every time they were in a room with them, Ellie would make fun of you until you couldn’t take anymore and left. They knew Ellie wasn’t fully serious, she liked picking on you because she thought it was hilarious that you couldn’t take a joke. But part of her started to despise you without her knowledge. Everyone loved you. You were sweet and would pray with anyone who wanted to pray. You would give back to the community and greet everyone who walked past you. Ellie thought it was all an act and grew tired of it.
You, on the other hand, never liked Ellie. She was a dealer who spent all of her free time smoking pot and sleeping around. You didn’t think that was any way to live. You hated the influence Ellie had on your friends. Everyone thought she was funny. You couldn’t understand why.
“Let’s play never have I ever!” Dina suggested, an attempt to break the silence and to lessen the tension that built up in the room. Everyone agreed and put all ten of their fingers up. You followed along, waiting for someone to start.
“Okay,” Dina started. “Loser has to go streaking.”
Everyone cheered. You frowned, unsure if you still wanted to play. “But!” said Dina, causing everyone to be quiet. “Usually, you’re out if you put all your fingers down. But… whoever is left with the most fingers up is the loser.”
You nudged Dina, giving her a look. “You know I’m gonna lose,” you whispered. Dina shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Just lie.” 
“I’ll start,” said Jesse. “Never have I ever… made out with someone on patrol.”
Everyone put their fingers down except you.
“Never have I ever… had sex during patrol,” Dina said. Almost everyone put their finger down. They looked at you, waiting for you to say something. You decided to take Dina’s advice and start lying to avoid being the loser.
“Never have I ever snuck out.”
You put a finger down along with everyone else. Ellie scoffed. “Yeah sure,” she muttered. “Never have I ever had sex.”
You put a finger down, knowing that wasn’t true. Ellie kicked your knee lightly. “Wow, you’re getting some? Tell me, who?”
You looked over at Dina, your eyes wide as you tried to come up with a lie. Some girl who passed through Jackson? Some girl you met before Jackson? Your head started to hurt trying to come up with an excuse.
“Who?” Ellie asked again. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Girl,” Dina corrected. “She’s not attracted to men.”
You nodded, not really caring that Dina had outed you. You knew that you were surrounded by people who wouldn’t judge. Except for Ellie, even though she wasn’t straight herself.
Ellie looked genuinely shocked. “Really? Who’s the girl?”
You shrugged. “I’m not gonna name drop.”
“Because this girl isn’t real,” said Ellie. “Lying is a sin. You would know. You just don’t want to be the loser.” 
“Hey, it’s not fair to lie,” one of Jesse’s friends complained. Suddenly, everyone started whining about how it was against the rules. Either you say who it was or admit that you’re lying. You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment. Ellie was grinning but it went away when she saw tears in your eyes.
“I’m teasing, man. Chill… don’t be a crybaby about it.”
“Fuck you, Ellie,” you spat out. A few people gasped, including Dina. She turned to Jesse, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt guilty for suggesting to play the game and for telling Ellie to be nice. Dina realized it just made her pick on you even more. 
Ellie wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t mad but she wasn’t feeling good about the situation either.
“You’re a real piece of shit,” you continued. “Always throwing religion in my face, being mean, just… why? Why target me? I’ve always been nice to you even though I have never, ever liked you! So, fuck you, Ellie!” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I knew better. I shouldn’t have come here when I found out you were gonna be here too. Just give it a rest, Ellie. Grow up!”
You stood up and brushed your shorts off. You faced your friends who all sat back quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Sorry for ruining your fun, guys.”
You stormed up the stairs and into one of the spare bedrooms. You collapsed on the bed, your head spinning. You felt awful for how you reacted but felt she deserved it. You were worried you ruined the party until you heard music along with everyone singing loudly. 
You heard a knock on the door. You got up, cracking it open. You were expecting Dina but felt your stomach drop when you saw Ellie. You tried to shut the door but Ellie stopped it with her hand, shoving her way inside and slamming the door shut and locking it. “I’m not here to bitch at you, I want to talk to you.”
“You really want to make things worse?”
“You’re right. I am a piece of shit,” Ellie hissed. “I know I go too far teasing you but you take everything seriously!”
“You don’t know me, Ellie,” you mumbled, too afraid to speak up in case your voice cracked. “I won’t lie and say that I ever cared for you. I don’t like the way you choose to live your life but I still was kind to you. You never gave me a chance.”
“Because you act like you’re better than everyone!”
“How?” you shouted. “All I want is to make friends with everyone, spread a little peace and love in this shitty world! It’s comforting to me, Ellie! I don’t think I’m better than you or anybody. I enjoy making others happy and you enjoy making people miserable. Actually, just me. Because I have never seen you do this to others. You hate me and I wish you didn’t! I hear how Dina talks about you and I see how you laugh with your friends and I’m jealous. I know I could’ve liked you had you been friendly with me. Because I was angry at myself for judging you so quickly. It was wrong of me. But of course, I was right!”
You turned away from Ellie and sat down on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest. “I felt I had to prove that I’m cool,” you continued. “I thought you would stop for just one night if you saw how cool I can be.”
“You want the truth?” Ellie asked.
“You’re always truthful. So, I might as well say yes even if I don’t really give a shit.”
“I meant it when I said I was impressed earlier.”
You scoffed. “Sure.”
“I can’t even take two shots back to back like that.”
“Stop teasing, Ellie. I am convinced that being torn apart by infected is less stressful than dealing with you.”
“Just shut the fuck up and let me talk, okay? I’m leading into something.”
You flinched at her raised voice, slowly looking up to see her facial expression harden. 
“I’m jealous of you,” she admitted. “I’m jealous that you can still believe in something and that you still care when everything is so fucked!”
You stood up, walking towards Ellie as she spoke. “I’d give anything, anything, to be that way. I had bitter feelings towards you. I think I wanted to tear you down so you wouldn’t be so… sweet. Giving, caring, everything I never could be.”
You watched her face closely, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. 
“I fuck girls like you and ignore them so they can hurt. Maybe I want the world to suffer with me,” said Ellie. “But I couldn’t do that to you. You’re too… good. I had to find another way.”
You paused as you connected what she said together. “Wait, you wanna…?” you trailed off, too shy to say it.
Ellie scratched her neck awkwardly. “Well, I did… but you’d never do that.”
“I might have,” you said, almost feeling ashamed of how bold you were being. You never would have thought this sober but Ellie was really pretty. If the circumstances were different, you knew that she would be your type. 
Ellie was taken aback by your statement.
“What?” Ellie questioned.
“Not now, since I know you would’ve ignored me.”
Ellie stepped closer to you, eyeing your body up and down. She thought you looked good tonight and couldn’t help but to peek at your tits when you weren’t paying attention, or your ass when you were turned away. 
“I… know I would’ve back then,” Ellie whispered, getting even closer to you. She stood above you, watching as your face turned red. Your heart sped up. You wondered why your panties started to feel a bit wet at the sight of Ellie looking down at you. You usually never got turned on. Ellie was right, you were just a good Christian girl who didn’t do anything. You never even tried touching yourself. Since you were breaking the rules now, you thought maybe you could break some more and pray for forgiveness later.
“I’m not so sure now,” Ellie continued, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I never knew you were hiding that under all those baggy clothes.”
“A-Are you saying that in a bad way?”
Ellie shook her head. “When I first saw you earlier, I told Dina I kinda wanted to fuck you.”
Your breath hitched. “What did… Dina say?”
“That if I was nicer,” she said, stepping closer so there was almost no space left between your bodies. “I just might get to.”
Ellie caressed your cheek slowly. “Am I nice enough now, pretty girl?”
Your panties were soaked at this point. Your body trembled, afraid that you wouldn’t know what to do since it was your first time. Even though ten minutes ago you didn’t like the girl, you suddenly wanted nothing more than to be underneath her.
“I really… was lying earlier,” you mumbled.
“I know you were.”
“You don’t care that I’ve never… had sex before?”
Ellie smirked. “I’m glad you’ve never been fucked before. I want to be the one who corrupts you. I want everybody who fucks you after me to be a disappointment so you come crawling back. You’ll never find better than me, not even your own hand.”
Ellie leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. You pulled away to speak. “I don’t even do that…”
Ellie chuckled. “Really? Little church girl don’t know how to please herself?”
Usually, you would get mad at Ellie for saying stuff like that. Now, her insults just made you throb even more. 
“Have you even kissed before?”
You bit your lip shyly and shrugged. “Not… really. When I was 13, a boy tried kissing me and I didn’t kiss back.”
“Aw, poor pup,” Ellie teased, running her fingers on the exposed skin of your tummy. “I get to teach you everything.”
Finally, Ellie collided her lips with yours. She was super gentle, placing her hand on your cheek and brushing it with her thumb. You melted in the kiss, pressing your thighs together to ease your aching cunt. The friction made it feel even better, causing you to release a soft moan into her mouth. Ellie pulled away, smirking at the noise you made. “I wanna hear more of that.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “I don’t know if I can do anything to make you feel good.”
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
You hesitated a bit before nodding. Of course you wanted that. You were just scared that you’d be bad at it since you had zero experience.
“Then let me fuck you. I get off to getting you off, understand?” asked Ellie. 
“Y-Yes.”
“Good girl,” Ellie praised. “Lay down, baby.”
You obeyed and laid down onto the bed. You watched as Ellie slowly took your boots off and dropped them onto the ground. “Lift your hips up for me?”
You lifted your hips and let Ellie pull your shorts off. Ellie bit her lip at the sight of your white cotton panties. She could see how soaked they were. “Look at that,” she breathed. You closed your legs to hide yourself but Ellie pulled them back open, holding your thighs down so you couldn’t move. “Filthy little girl,” she cooed. “What would God say about this?”
Your breathing started to grow heavier. “I-I don’t care what He would say,” you whined.
Ellie held back a moan that threatened to escape her lips. She pulled your panties off and threw them behind her.
“Fuck,” she groaned. “Your pussy is so pretty.”
She tugged at your shirt until you got the hint to raise up. She lifted the fabric over your head and dropped it on the floor. You were completely naked while Ellie was fully dressed. She rolled her sleeves up, her eyes never leaving yours. She crawled on top of you and started making out with you passionately. Without pulling away, she started to unbutton her jeans and took them off swiftly. She shoved her knee against your dripping cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. She placed her hands on your hips and guided them up and down so you were grinding on her.
“Just like that, baby. Good girl.”
You started to moan louder, Ellie covering your mouth and shushing you. “As much as I want to make you scream, you don’t want anyone to hear and interrupt us, do you?”
You shook your head no. “Will you be quiet for me?”
“Yes,” you whimper. 
Ellie pressed her knee harder on your pussy. You started to go faster, mewling and biting your lip to keep quiet.
“Such a good girl. You listen so well,” Ellie complimented. She took her knee away and brushed a finger up your slit. Your body jolted at the feeling. “You want me to taste you baby?”
“Please,” you almost cried out, desperate for whatever Ellie planned on doing to you. Ellie moaned at the sight of you squirming. She loved watching you unfold beneath her. To think she ever hated you was beyond her at this point. She wished she had done this sooner as she admired how beautiful you were. 
“Say it,” Ellie demanded. “Use your words, pup.”
“E-Ellie, please” you begged. “F-Fuck me.”
Ellie tutted, shaking her head no. “I plan on fucking you anyway. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”
You were confused. You’ve heard Dina say that Jesse would ‘eat her out’ but you weren’t sure what it really meant. Ellie saw the confusion on your face and laughed. “Wow, you’re too innocent.” 
You started to sit up but Ellie pushed you back down softly. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t mean it that way,” she apologized. “It’s okay that you don’t know what that means. I’ll show you baby. You want that?”
You nodded. “Yes, please show me.”
Ellie leaned down between your thighs and started peppering kisses all over them. You reached down to grip her hair as her lips got closer to your pussy. She flicked her tongue across your clit once and looked up at you. “Do you understand now, pup?”
“Mm, yes Ellie.”
She smirked. “You want me to continue?”
“Please?”
Ellie chuckled as she went back down to your dripping cunt, licking it all up and swallowing. She savored the taste of you, going back down for more. You grabbed the pillow beneath your head to put over your face in an attempt to muffle your moans.
Ellie stopped and yanked the pillow out of your hands. “They turned the music all the way up finally. You don’t have to be quiet anymore. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”
Ellie pressed her tongue against your clit and went back and forth between a circular motion and flicking it. You nearly screamed from the pleasure, your hands grabbing Ellie’s hair to pull her closer. She moaned against you, speeding her tongue up. She brought a hand up to play with your nipple, squeezing and pulling on it. Ellie used her free hand to gently push one finger in. You yelped, yanking Ellie’s hair harder. She pulled away and licked her lips. “Too much baby?” she asked, out of breath. You shook your head no and pulled her back to keep going.
Ellie loved how tight you felt. The feeling of you gripping around her finger made her want to bend you over and fuck you with a strap. She wished the party was at her place so she could have used all the toys she had on you.
A feeling began to build up in your stomach as you trembled harder. “E-Ellie!” you moaned, bucking your hips upward as you got closer and closer to cumming.
“Come on, baby. That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for me.”
All of the sudden, your body began to convulse as your orgasm hit you hard. Ellie slowly fingered you, riding it out until you pulled away from her. She brought her finger up to your mouth, forcing it open and shoving it down your throat. You sucked on her finger with a moan.
“Such a good girl,” Ellie praised, elated with how quickly you catch on.
“Wow,” you mumbled, out of breath from all the noises you made. “Never in a million years did I think I’d lose my virginity to you.”
Ellie sent you a sly smile. “I never knew I’d take it.”
You raised up slightly, leaning against Ellie’s shoulder. “Are you still going to be mean to me?”
Ellie sighed. “No, baby. That’s all over now.” 
“Good. Do I put my clothes on now?”
“Why do you have to ask for my permission?” Ellie questioned with a laugh.
You giggled. “Well, I like… asking you.”
“Well, then no. I think I want to fingerfuck you some more. Can you take that?”
You froze, looking up at her with a fucked out expression. You were exhausted but didn’t want your time with Ellie to end. “Mhm, I think so.”
Ellie leaned back a bit and grabbed you. “Come lay in my lap, baby. Ass up.”
You complied and laid down, arching your back in excitement. Ellie rubbed her hand over your ass, squeezing tightly as you moaned. “Tell me, did you pray for me?”
Before you could ask what she meant by that, she shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt. You yelped as she fucked you with them slow and hard. “That one time when you got mad at me for making fun of you, you said you’d pray for me. Did you?”
Ellie sped her movements up as she went deeper inside you.
“Fuck!” you yelled out, trembling and kicking your feet at the feeling.
“Answer me, pup, or I’ll stop,” Ellie threatened.
“Yes!”
“Yes what, baby?”
“Yes! God, yes, I prayed for you!”
Ellie went even faster as you got closer to cumming again. “Atta girl, such a sweet pup. Praying for a sinner like me.”
“Ellie! Fuck! I-I prayed for you everyday!” you babbled, unable to speak without getting interrupted by your own sounds of pleasure.
“Yeah? Told God how bad you wanted me? Told Him all your dirty thoughts, you filthy slut?”
You moaned louder, bucking your hips up towards Ellie . “Yes!”
“You’re gonna ask for forgiveness, aren’t you? Like the good Christian girl you are.”
“Mm, yes, Ellie,” you whined, your orgasm about to take over you.
“Then ask, baby, ask.”
“God, forgive me please,” you said in between moans as you finally came undone for her. The force of you cumming shook your entire body and made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t help but to repeat Ellie’s name until you started to come down, your body almost collapsing onto her lap. 
“Good girl.”
Ellie helped you up onto your feet, your legs shaking. “Let me help you get dressed,” she offered.
As Ellie helped you into your clothes, you couldn’t help but feel awful. “Ellie? Did I… make God mad at me?”
Ellie stopped, placing her hands on your shoulders and staring deep into your eyes. “Who could be mad at an angel like you?”
You blushed, removing yourself from her grip and tugging your shirt over your head. You put your shoes on next and sighed, looking up at Ellie with a tired smile. “Do we say anything?”
Ellie shook her head no, quickly fixing your hair so it wasn’t obvious what happened. “Just say we talked and you forgave me. I had one hell of an apology,” she uttered with a goofy grin. You laughed softly.
“So, you’re not gonna ignore me, right?”
Ellie wrapped her arms around you for a second before stepping back, eyeing you up and down while heading towards the door. Your heart stung, wondering if maybe Ellie didn’t mean what she said before. 
“Come by tomorrow night,” said Ellie as she turned the knob. “I’ll fuck you so good that you won’t question me again.”
Ellie left you standing there, your mouth open in shock. You waited a couple minutes before heading downstairs to the party.
“Hey,” you heard Dina call out to you. She grabbed your hand and looked at you with concern. “I shouldn’t have said anything to Ellie. It just made her worse. I begged her not to talk to you but-”
“Dina,” you interrupted. “She explained herself and I explained myself. We’re all good.”
Dina looked surprised. “What? Really? You forgave her?”
You looked behind Dina to see Ellie back on the couch, staring at you with a grin as she puffed on her joint. You smiled at Dina and nodded. “Of course I forgave her. Her apology was genuine and…”
“What did she say?” Dina pressed on.
You shrugged. “I can’t remember everything she said but it was one hell of an apology.”
2K notes · View notes
seongclb · 9 months
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— enhypen reaction to you hugging a plush to sleep !
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bf!enha x reader, established relationship au, fluff & no warnings :)
another reaction because they’re easy to write and i don’t wanna be completely ia also soz these get shorter and more repetitive
♫ un-thinkable by alicia keys
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( scenario desc ) —
when you’re invited to a sleepover with your boyfriend and his friend group, excitement washes over you since you’re aware of the numerous fun activities they get up to. as expected, the night is full of laughter and games until your boyfriend offers to cuddle with you to sleep but notices you prefer the embrace of a stuffed animal which he is not going to let happen.
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𖠗 이희승 | lee heeseung.
“y/n, you ready for bed?”
he’ll be so excited: you’re in his clothes and in his bed like this is gonna be the best nights sleep of his life
until, you open your bag and pull out an animal
at first, he doesn’t question it since he thinks you need it for comfort
but he didn’t think you needed to hold it .. like he’s there for a reason
he’s probably spooning you and realises there’s some teddy in your arms
“y/n, why is there a teddy in your arms?”
“oh, this? this is mr cuddles. he’s my sleep buddy - i’ve had him since i was eight!”
literally scoffs, “well, it’s time to get rid of him.”
tells you he’s here now and there’s no reason to be holding some stuffed toy and tries his best not the chuck the toy off the bed.
is so happy when you put it to the side and try hugging him instead
when he wakes up and sees you sleeping so well that there’s drool on the corner of your lips, he feels so accomplished
𖠗 박종성 | park jongseong.
bc this would be your first time sleeping in the same bed as you, his goal is to ensure you’re comfortable first
makes sure you pick everything to your preference
including the blanket, the pillow and which of his pyjamas you like the most
almost buries you in the blanket since he’s worried you’ll get cold and sick
it’s summer ???
later in the night, he notices you’re holding one of your plush toys
can’t sleep because he’s so bothered about you hugging this teddy
doesn’t want to wake you up so he waits until morning
“y/n, why do you sleep with a plush?”
you tell him how you’re just used to it and now you can’t sleep without it
“hmmm this won’t do at all”
now has a rule that whenever you sleep next to him, you have to hold him
also replaces your plush with one that he bought and sprays it with his perfume that you ofc have chosen from his collection
if he’s not there to hold you to sleep, then at least you can smell and think of him
𖠗 심재윤 | sim jaeyun.
wouldn’t have it at all
cuddles are like his fave thing ever
esp with you
so how DARE you decide to cuddle something else
is in the middle of laughing about it but also showing he’s so hurt
“y/n, i’m way better than that stupid plush”
“JAKE, DONT CALL HIM STUPID”
rolls his eyes and sulks
doesn’t understand why u won’t at least try
eventually he gets his way bc who can stand to see jake not smiling 24/7
has you literally locked in his arms so you can’t move
hides the plush from you
also would get you a plush and say that you can hug yours and his child to sleep
jake’s way or no way
will hug layla to sleep instead if you decide to bring your teddies again
𖠗 박성훈 | park sunghoon.
is secretly fuming
but can’t contain it in
when he sees it, he’ll immediately think the worst
“what’s that?”
you explain you need it to help you sleep
thinks about it for a while and doesn’t say anything
“hoon, you okay??” he has a pout on his lips and his brows are furrowed
“yep.”
asks about your plush, while insulting it, “where’d you get that stupid toy anyway” “how long have you had that pathetic teddy”
soon you get a bit sad and insecure about needing a teddy to help you sleep which he notices
“y/nnnn, im sorry im just annoyed that you wanna sleep with this teddy instead of me”
so you decide to cuddle to sleep
definitely kicks it off the bed with a proud smile on his face
𖠗 김선우 | kim sunoo.
offended
is literally in a mood after you say it’s your sleeping buddy
like that’s his role as your boyfriend now..
acts like you betrayed him
“don’t talk to me. you’re a snake” “SUNOO”
faces the other way to sleep
refuses to talk to you
until he feels your arms wrap around him
and then he turns around with a big smile on his face
“i knew you couldn’t resist”
makes it his mission to make sure you rely on only him to be able to sleep
says it’s basically cheating if you’re relying on another sleeping buddy
“like why am i not ur one and only sleeping buddy”
u have to make it up to him with hugs + a spa night
𖠗 양정원 | yang jungwon
wont tell you that it bothers him
but jungwon eyes
they just make it too obvious like why are they glinting and everything they’re literally just ;( like this
who wouldn’t be able to tell when he’s not showing his dimples on full display
anyway ur js like “what’s wrong”
and hes like “hmph nothing”
BUT HES SULKINGGG and although he looks so cute u js can’t have ur baby acting like this
so u wrap ur arms around him but he light pushes you off
and ur like .. woah this is new
but u realise it’s bc of this teddy
after speaking to him, jungwon declares that this teddy is his competition
now he makes this inanimate object compete with him for everything
video games, races, who can cook you better breakfast etc
there will never be an end
𖠗 西村力 | nishimura riki
he’s simply gonna hide the plush or teddy from you
and he’ll utilise his height bc hello who the hell is gonna find anything
the guy can probably hide things in the clouds and you wouldn’t know
anyway if you ever do find it
he’ll punch it
or throw it across the room
and stomp off in a puff
bc ur his baby and ur prioritising this silly teddy
this teddy is banned from sleepovers with riki
he says it takes out the fun from ur silly sleepovers
eventually you don’t need it anymore so you don’t bring it
that’s the happiest he’s ever been
2K notes · View notes
lisired · 3 months
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who needs cupid’s bow?
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pairing: bff!haechan x (f) reader
genre/warnings: bff2l, suggestive, lots of sexual innuedos but no smut, fluff, a teaspoon of angst, mc & hc are oblivious to each other’s feelings and jaemin calls them out on their bullshit, mutual pining
summary: Cupid is not on your side, it seems. He’s made you fall in love with the worst possible person ever, AKA your best friend, AKA the man who still eats tootsie-pops—willingly. And frankly, it feels like the damn candy has a better chance of dating him than you ever will.
word count: 11.1k
a/n: inspired by down for you by kehlani, boyfriend by ariana grande, and serial lover by kehlani. another oldie but i kinda like it… kinda. as always, feedback is appreciated!
It’s safe to say that Cupid is your mortal enemy (Or immortal—whatever. Nonetheless, you aren’t the biggest fan of him.)
You don’t know why, but for some inexplicable reason, he always makes you fall in love with the wrong people. Such as Lee Taeyong from eighth grade, or your failed relationship with Kim Jisoo from your biology class in high school — a pretty girl, but you were as compatible as Mentos and Coca-Cola. Hell, there was even Jung Sungchan from senior year, who you naturally drifted away from during an exam period. They’re all chapters in your book now, but you’re currently stuck on the one about your best friend, Lee Haechan.
It seems like you’re Cupid’s mortal enemy, too. You and Haechan are always side by side, down one another’s throats, there’s no way his arrow could have hit you and missed Haechan.
Perhaps, it’s a hole you dug yourself in. Via mutual friends, when you were seventeen, you met Lee Haechan — jock, senior, and the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. There was an instant connection between you two, all it took was a convo at a party about coincidentally both failing the same math exam, and you quickly became friends and close enough to pour out your heart into little rants whenever there was something personal bothering either of you, and you needed an outlet. You liked him because he understood you. He was patient witth you. You see, you aren’t the best at communicating how you feel, and he never makes you feel bad about it.
You remember breaking up with your then-boyfriend, Jung Sungchan, and while you weren’t heartbroken since you saw it coming and all the love had evaporated by then, you were devastated that you no longer had someone to kiss. That being your main concern made Haechan laugh. He thought it was the most you thing ever.
“Can I kiss you, then?” you asked, a little grin on your face, although you were very serious. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, kissing your best friend. He has pretty lips, and it isn’t like it’ll mean anything, you think. It’s just one kiss.
Haechan scoffed, biting off the last remaining piece of his Tootsie Pop off the stick. You’re kidding, he thinks. Why would you seriously want to kiss him? And after breaking up with your now ex-boyfriend? The wound’s still fresh. “You wouldn’t dare.”
To Haechan’s surprise, you dared.
He tasted like chocolate, exactly like a Tootsie Pop, as expected of him. You didn’t mind, though. You never do. It was fun, you liked the way Haechan held you in his lap and kissed you back with fierceness, and he still kisses you with that same passion, like there’s no tomorrow.
And that’s the problem.
Fast-forward four years later, you’re still best friends with Lee Haechan, only this time you’re in college, and have the fattest, most gigantic crush on him. Somewhere along the way, those lines between love and friendship were blurred. It’s impossible to pinpoint when, but you fell deep and hard for your best friend.
And the worst part? You doubt he’ll ever reciprocate those feelings.
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One kiss turned into more than you can count on your fingers and toes.
Should you continue making out with your best friend who doesn’t reciprocate your romantic interest in him? Probably not.
Are you still going to, though? Absolutely.
“Y/n, I’m going to kill you,” Haechan states as he stumps inside the dining room. His hair is tussled since he’s just waken up from a nap, but you like this raw side of him. He looks gorgeous, and despite him basically threatening to murder you you still want to kiss him.
“Romantic,” you deadpan, training your eyes back on your laptop. It takes everything in you not to stare, but if you want to keep your feelings low-key, you need to follow a couple of rules.
“I know you took my Tootsie Pop. Where is it?”
You smirk a little, but it quickly fades into a line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Okay, so maybe that’s a lie, and you both know it. You aren’t the only other person in the house, but Jungwoo, Haechan’s stepbrother, is asleep and wouldn’t cut his nap time short to do something as stupid as stealing the last of his brother’s favorite candy. That leaves you. As his best friend, you’re the first person to know Haechan turns murderous over those stupid lollipops, and that he’s the last person to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop. In your personal opinion, they’re not even that good. But he’s loved them ever since you’ve known him.
“We’re best friends, y/n. I know when you’re lying,” he remarks, and doesn’t give you the chance to answer before he persists, “where is it?”
There’s only one way out of this.
Run.
Haechan follows almost automatically, and in spite of being barely awake he obviously has the upper hand because he’s always leaned more towards the sport-y side. This doesn’t deter you though, because you have a getaway plan.
In your attempt to somehow outrun a man that used to do track and field, you make a beeline for the backyard door. He’s not going to outrun you in the grass in slippers, you think as you turn to see if he’s caught up on you. You’re in the lead, albeit barely, with your body almost being in arms reach. You try to pick up your speed, and once you reach the door you hurry to turn the knob. Except, there’s one, itty-bitty problem.
The door is fucking locked.
And you already know you won’t have time to open it, so you cave in to defeat, whirling around with your hands up in a surrendering pose. Your plan’s backfired; you’ve been caught.
“Oh, I’ve got you now,” Haechan says cockily. He has you—hook, line, and sinker, and at this point you aren’t even upset. You can’t be upset. His eyes are on you, and his body is close to yours, dangerously so.
“Okay, you win. Happy?” You mumur.
“Not until I get my Tootsie Pop back,” he shakes his head, “now where is it?”
Smiling, you shrug. Of course, you know where the candy is, but he’s either going to have to win or pry the answer out of you.
Then, he steps even closer, and your heart starts pounding in your chest twenty times faster than your feet were against the hardwood. This isn’t your first rodeo, you’ve made out with your best friend countless times, yet the anticipation gives you a rush, like you’ve never done this before. It makes you feel like a teenager in love all over again — seventeen, young and head over heels in love with the man closest to you.
He’s back you into the door, and you can’t keep your eyes off his lips. Beautiful, plush, soft, and your eyes flutter shut as you prepare to feel the same skilled pair against your own, closer, and closer, and closer—
Crunch.
“I fucking knew it!” Haechan yells, jolting your eyes open. You aren’t even given the opportunity to register the situation before his hands are digging into your back pocket, retrieving his fortunately unharmed Tootsie Pop.
It feels like he’s gone before you can even blink, and realizing he’s slipped back into the hall, you begin to follow him into his room. “Hey!” you yell, and he doesn’t say anything, just looking up at you from his gaming chair with that damn candy hanging from his mouth, “why didn’t you kiss me?”
“Why’d you steal my Tootsie Pop?”
Okay, that was stupid, yes, but there was a particular goal in mind which was reached, even if for a short-lived moment.
You frown, “I wanted your attention.”
Haechan shakes his head, laughing. “C’mere.”
Somehow, those words never fail, making you melt and slip into his lap effortlessly every time. You’re like Jell-O to his voice, to his touch, to his whole. You’re a goner, some would say, and a part of you is alright with never coming back if it means you get to feel all the weird, Cupid-y emotions he makes you feel.
At this point, you don’t think you’ll ever stop kissing Haechan. In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve both been in relationships, hence putting the make out sessions on hiatus. They were never really long though, because you’d break up with them and inevitably find your way back to one another in the end.
His fingers guide your chin up, and once more your eyes flutter shut as his lips unite with yours. Haechan kisses in a manner that contrasts with the soft feeling of his lips. He always starts off gentle, but there’s a hunger that overcomes him as he stands up and pushes you against his desk, rough yet graceful and holding you so firmly, like you’re glass, but he wants to break you. And when he shatters you into all those tiny pieces, you don’t care. You want him to glue you back together and do it all over again. He’s intoxicating, he’s an addictive drug, but he tastes like candy, and you can’t stop coming back to him. He feels like home, the place where you belong. The place where you can be one-hundred percent, authentically you, safe and whole, more than the general perception than you. And fuck, does he kiss like the damn devil himself.
You were silly for ever believing it would only be one kiss.
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Jungwoo thinks that for people who are trying to keep their not-so relationship-y relationship under wraps, you two are very loud.
Speaking of which, and despite the nature of your relationship, you and Haechan haven’t even discussed your label. You know that you aren’t friends with benefits—you haven’t crossed that line, but to be honest, those lines have been starting to look blurry for a while—but you also aren’t in a relationship. You see other people, you fuck other people, and when other people ask if you’re dating, you both deny it immediately. You’re just best friends, you both say each time like some rehearsed line, even if it breaks your heart to hear him friendzone you.
Karina and Mark even have an ongoing bet about you two. Karina is one-hundred positive there’s something going on, whereas Mark is probably the only person in the world that wants to give you guys the benefit of the doubt.
“For heaven’s sake, I can’t get any type of sleep around here,” Jungwoo rasps, leaning against the doorframe, “I really hope you guys don’t do this shit when Dohwan’s here.”
His judgmental eyes practically bore into your soul, and you thank heaven that you don’t have to worry about keeping this secret from Jungwoo, even if he would probably appreciate it more if you did. He finds you in a rather interesting position, straddling Haechan’s lap as you press kisses into his collarbone.
It’s all Haechan’s fault, really. Three years ago, Jungwoo made the mistake of walking inside Haechan’s bedroom without knocking, accidentally finding you two making out in a very touchy way on his bed because a certain someone didn’t think to lock the door. Not only did you ruin his quote-unquote innocence, but his perception of you forever, and ever since that ordeal, Jungwoo has never opened his stepbrother’s door without knocking. This time, it just so happened to be wide-open.
You bite your lip, feeling bad. Kim Dohwan is Haechan’s halfbrother of whom he babysits whenever available (and you like to tag on, because dealing with children is stressful and Haechan’s already stressed enough), and on weekdays Jungwoo has to wake up from his nap earlier to pick up the kid from school and bring him back home, then leave for work. You were too loud and disrupted the poor guy’s nap time.
“Oh,” Haechan says the syllable blankly, not too sympathetic, “did we wake you?”
“Of course not, I usually wake up at 2pm and take extra longs showers to start my day,” Jungwoo deadpans, “but whatever. I’m heading out. Don’t forget to go grocery shopping today.”
“Noted,” you and Haechan say simultaneously, gazing at one another and stifling giggles when you catch each other’s gaze. Jungwoo smiles at you, then flicks off his brother before parting.
When you’re both all alone again, a few seconds pass before Haechan’s eyes do that thing where they twinkle every time something catches his interest (or perhaps that’s the in love side of your brain making you see things.)
“Hey, you coming to Chenle’s Valentines Day party Monday?” You don’t know why he’s even asking, you follow Haechan everywhere he goes like a lost puppy. Maybe he’s discreetly asking you out. “Unless you’re actually busy, by the way, I hope you know you’re going. And maybe you’ll find some single pringle interested in a relationship. You can’t just kiss me forever, you know.” Oh. Well that eliminates that thought.
A part of you is yelling at you to decline, to lie and say that you actually have a dick or pussy appointment scheduled for the 14th, yet another is weak, in spite of you being aware of how this works. First of all, Valentine’s Day parties are mainly for single people who don’t have anything better to do, and each time one of you go to one, you end up meeting some stranger and hooking up with them. You know that’s more than likely what he’s going to do, and you aren’t strong enough to watch him flirt with other people.
You know how to put up a good front, though, so you’ll fake it until you make it.
“We can do a lot more than kiss,” you suggest with a wink.
Haechan grimaces, “No thanks. Now get off my lap.”
You frown, but climb off his lap nonetheless. “Wow,” you drag dramatically, “You’ll make out with me for what feels like hours, but sticking your dick in me is where you draw the line?”
“Precisely.”
You gasp in faux offense. “Oh, come on. Sex doesn’t seem so bad. Like, think of it as my pussy giving your dick a nice warm hug.”
Haechan’s at a lost for words, his face bright red. How do you even come up with this stuff? “Oh my god, are you coming or not?”
You joke, “I thought you said sticking your dick in me was where you draw the line?”
He shoots you a glare so sharp you’re sure that if you were still on his lap, he’d be barely resisting the urge to shove you off. You don’t miss the way his cheeks heat up, though.
Haechan groans exasperatedly, leaning back his gaming chair, “Y/n, seriously!”
“Fine!” resisting your best friend is literally impossible, you conclude, because you have officially caved in to his request—or, more or less, demand, rather, “fine, fine! I’ll go!”
“Great,” he grins with satisfaction, beaming with his thirty-two teeth, and you even see little gleams of smiles in his eyes, “anyway, Dohwan’s gonna be here soon, so let’s get ready to go shopping.”
You furrow your brows. You have a solid twenty minutes left, and all you really need to do is slip on your shoes.
“I need more Tootsie Pops,” Haechan adds, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense.
And you roll your eyes. “We’ll get you some more Tootsie Pops, but you better not ditch us for the candy aisle!”
“Of course, not,” he smiles, not even trying to sound or appear convincing. “I’d never leave you guys.”
That’s exactly what he does.
You aren’t even remotely surprised, though heavily disappointed when he announces in the middle of the thankfully empty cereal aisle that he’s going to find Tootsie Pops, managing to run off before you can even protest.
Gripping the shopping cart, you avert your gaze from the Cinnamon Toast Cruch boxes to his figure, almost missing him jog onto the following aisle. You shake your head, a small smile tugging your lips. If it were the end of the world, Haechan would stock up on those candies before he would even think to consider water.
“Auntie Y/N,” you aren’t quite adjusted to being addressed as an aunt, but you aren’t against it either. You have the image all put together—rich, thriving, and the kids adore you, “do you love my brother?”
That was perhaps the very last question you expected the six-year-old boy to ask you. Your eyes are a little wide, but it’s a kid, you remind yourself, so you shouldn’t be worried. But shit, then again, if a first-grader can figure it out, you’re fresh out of luck.
“Why do you think that?” You crouch down to be eye-level with him, having a feeling there’s some misunderstanding here. Dohwan’s bright for his age and doesn’t let anyone forget it, but you’ll be damned if he’s sniffed you out.
He makes a face. “I saw you kiss him, just like mommy and daddy do. And my mommy and daddy love each other very—” he stretches the vowel, and you can’t but giggle, “—much! That’s why they made me!” then he gasps, and you fear what it means, praying he doesn’t ask what you think he will. “Will you and my brother have a baby, too? I wan’ a new friend!”
On second thought, you think you’d rather he would’ve asked you what you thought he was. You nearly have a heart attack in the middle of the aisle, yet still, Dohwan gazes up at you with his innocent, sparkly eyes. You assume it’s in the blood; Jungwoo doesn’t have them, and he isn’t blood-related to Haechan, but Dohwan partially is, and the twinkle is promiment.
Calmly, you reply, “Don’t you already have a lot friends?”
He does, you both know it. You vaguely remember pulling up to his sixth birthday bash and being in shock of all the little kids jumping and flipping on the Spider-Man bouncy house. You haven’t been surrounded by that many children since, hell, probably since kindergarten.
“Yeah, but I wanna be a big brother,” he folds his tiny arms and pouts, “It’s not fair Hyuck and Woo get to be big, but I don’t!”
With minimum success, you manage to stifle your laugh, stretching out your arms to bring the little boy in for a hug, “You’ll be big one day. Trust me, you don’t wanna rush it.”
“And strong like Superman?”
“And strong like Superman,” you reassure, all smiley and convincing. “Now let’s go check up on your big brother, he’s taking too long.”
Dohwan rocks from side to side as he walks, murmuring some Nickelodeon TV show theme song, and you push the cart until you’ve reached your designation.
Quickly, you regret acting on your impatience. The scene taking place at the back of the aisle is anything but comforting—Haechan’s talking to some girl, whom of which is literally throwing herself onto him, and you can’t help but notice the way he wallows in the attention. For fucks sake, all the attention you give him and he doesn’t even give a fraction of it back! Then here comes this random girl from your campus.
Sometimes, you think about how you could do everything she’s doing right now—twirl your hair around your finger, be touchy with him, giggling girlishly at everything he says, funny or not—and yet he wouldn’t bat an eye, because you’re best friends and nothing more. Kissing each other breathless is already normalized between the two of you, what’s a little flirting.
Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t kissed your best friend that day. You’re both too comfortable, everything is too weightless. I love you, Haechan says it back without a thought. C’mere, he calls and pulls you onto his lap or cuddles you to death. Fuck, he—on very rare occasions when making out goes a little too far—groans into your ear, groping you a little. Scratch that. It may be weightless on his end, but it isn’t on yours, and everything has an everlasting effect on you.
“Auntie?”
When you look down at Dohwan, your gaze is so, so tired. Your eyes do the talking; you can’t move your lips.
He hugs your leg. “I love you.”
His face is pure, innocent, but he reads you so perfectly. The corners of your lips turn up, and you ruffle his hair, “Love ya, too. Let’s go get your brother, alright?”
He bounces eagerly, and you both begin to stroll down the aisle until you’re beside Haechan. You’re in a selfish mood today, so you think of some remark to make in the process.
“Nice Tootsie Pops, Bowlcut,” you mask your tiny emotional breakdown with a joke, “Hi, Faith.”
“Hope,” she corrects, evidently annoyed by your presence, though she doesn’t state it outright. “My name is Hope. And… bowl cut?”
“Interchangeable,” you dismiss her correction carelessly. In all honesty, you already knew her name, but you’re feeling like a bitter bitch currently, “and yeah, in high school Haechan had this hideous bowl cut that he—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Haechan grumbles, “that was four years ago!”
“And I’ll never forget,” you’re smiling blissfully, nostalgic. “Anyways, what’cha two doing?”
“We were catching up, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen Hope here,” you hear Hope snicker at this, and something about it is extremely off-putting. He turns to her, “So, I’m in a bit of a time crunch. Could I have your number?”
Ouch. Right in your face, literally.
She giggles some more, typing her number in his phone, and you try to focus on Dohwan so that you don’t cave into your desire to knock her upside the head. There’s already so much on your plate, you don’t need an assault charge.
She smiles, all bubbly and giddy. You know jealousy isn’t a good look, but it’s still pissing you off. “See you around?”
“See you around,” Haechan replies. She hugs him, not forgetting to shoot you a look from across his shoulder as she does, and only once satisfied does she turns on her heel, sashaying away.
“Didn’t know pussy was on the shopping list,” you sneer, relieved once she’s finally gone. Her presence was suffocating.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “at least I’m actually trying, I don’t know what you’re going to do when I’m cuffed down and—holy sh—I mean crap! You’re so quiet, I forgot you were here,” Haechan jumps, only noticing Dohwan when he pokes at his leg. “And don’t you dare make a cuff joke, y/n. Not in front of the kid.”
You yell in that defensive tone which is a tell-tale sign you’re lying, “I wasn’t gonna!”
Haechan gives you the look.
The we’re-best-friends, I-know-when-you’re-lying look.
And that look is utterly withering, so you decide you’re accepting defeat. “Okay fine, maybe I was thinking about it, but I wasn’t actually gonna say it. Not with him around.”
Haechan snorts, like you said something funny, but in reality he just doesn’t believe you. “Yeah, alright. Let’s finish shopping.”
You don’t argue, but there’s a lingering thought in your mind as you push the cart, rattling around in your brain still.
When he’s cuffed. Hmm. You can’t speak for him completely, but you both know how that one goes. When you get into a relationship, you think the person is great and they serve as a nice temporary distraction—that is, until you’re bored and realize no one will ever compare to Haechan, and especially not in the kissing department. So you break up, and then you go back to making out with Haechan, solidifying your suspicion that no one will ever replace your best friend. It’s the reason you don’t do relationships anymore, you feel bad for using people when you know it isn’t going to change a thing. It never does.
As far as your knowledge extends, things aren’t too different with Haechan. You and him don’t push things, you don’t pry too deep. There’s some unspoken boundary, and you know when to drop things. That’s why you both say the same thing each time you ask one another why you and whoever it was that you were previously seeing broke up—it wasn’t working out.
Like a moth to a flame, Haechan always finds his way back to you too, because apparently you’re the only person that can keep him tied down. You don’t think that’s the case, though. Your problem is you’re in love with your best friend, no matter how hard you try to suppress the feelings. His problem? You can’t be sure, but you’d guess commitment issues.
Whatever it is, and as selfish as it may sound, you want it to stay. He isn’t yours, but you like the comfort of knowing that he isn’t anyone else’s, either.
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If Cupid had a human counterpart, it would be Na Jaemin in reincarnated form. He may not have wings nor a bow and arrow, but he does have dedication and a gigantic mouth.
“I can’t believe you called me over here for this,” you stand in an effort to leave, but Jaemin pulls you back down by your wrist, so you sigh, accepting that you’re stuck in the cafe and in the middle of a Jaem-terrogation.
“Not so fast, Sonic. You still haven’t answered my question. I don’t have all day, you know, I have other people’s business to be in,” he admits unabashedly, and you snort at his honesty.
Jaemin is an extremely shameless, extremely straightforward individual. He knows what he wants, how to get it, and the only time he’s afraid of letting someone know what he’s chasing for is when it interferes with his goal of obtaining said desire. He loves all things drama and gossip, and these are the lengths he’ll go to squeeze information out of you. No wonder he’s one of the writers for the campus newspaper.
“I don’t have feelings for Haechan,” you fiddle with your fork. “And even if I did, why would it matter? Haechan doesn’t have feelings for me, either.”
“Forgive me, but you’re a fucking dumbass,” Jaemin concludes, and you gasp in dramatic offense. “Why would I be here if he didn’t like you back, y/n? You know that he hasn’t had anyone over in two weeks? There’s like, three things at the top of Haechan’s list of shit he needs to survive, and that’s you, Tootsie Pops, and sex. Yet he’s gone two entire weeks without it. He likes you, really fucking bad.”
“Golly gee, Haechan hasn’t fucked anyone in two entire weeks. He must be head over heels in love with me,” you deadpan, ignoring how Jaemin rolls his eyes in response. “Be serious, Jaem. He literally got this girl’s number the other day. The man said himself that he doesn’t want to stick his dick in me. There’s nothing going on.”
Okay, so maybe Haechan is a raging sexaholic. Maybe he’s been a little horny recently. And maybe contact-full makeout sessions have been a reoccurrence in the past two weeks, but none of that matters, and he typically has extreme self control. Fresh as yesterday, he was definitely trying to get into Hope’s pants. It’s weightless, everything between you. It means absolutely nothing, and you’re trying to come to terms with the possibility that it never will. You wish your friends would accept the fact, too.
At least they don’t know you and Haechan make out, and have been for the past four years. They’d be insufferable, and you two would absolutely never hear the end of it.
“Y/n, please. Your biggest competition is those damn Tootsie Pops.”
“And if you told him that he had to live without me or the candy, he’d choose them over me any day.”
“Actually, he’d tell me to fuck off—and stop asking him stupid questions. You can’t tell me I’m wrong because I’m speaking from experience,” Jaemin grins, “I pushed the question until he gave me a proper answer. He chose you, by the way.”
You groan into your hands, “Unless you have some other evidence to provide besides this stupid question and him not getting laid in two weeks, you’re wasting my time here, Cupid.”
Jaemin sighs, “I thought I could pressure you into admitting your feelings—”
“I don’t have feelings for Haechan!”
“—that you deny having, but I guess taking the high road doesn’t work. Don’t worry, I still have plan B. I mean, you should be worried, but it’s whatever.”
You blink. “Plan B?”
He ignores you, standing up and preparing to take his leave. You’re still curious about whatever his alternative, backup plan is however, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to tell you.
“Jaemin!” You shriek. “What are you talking about?”
“February 14th, Chenle’s party,” he answers vaguely, swinging his bag over his shoulders. “Be there, or be square. Whatever that means.”
He exits without another word, leaving you dumbfounded and with a sudden dread in your chest. They don’t… know, do they? No, of course not. How could they? You’ve been keeping this secret for nearly four years, and the only people that know are Jungwoo and Dohwan.
Great. Another reason to dread the fourteenth, and despise Cupid—and his human counterpart, your actual mortal enemy.
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“I know you like Regina George, but the dress code is Cady Heron.”
Bummer. You didn’t exactly plan on attending as a sexy bunny in fishnets and knee-high boots, but you don’t intend on wearing a Party City outfit, neither. It’s only the 6th though, so you still have a week and some change to outfit plan.
You frown, “Why the change? None of his past parties have had much of a dress code.”
“Because Chenle is also stuck babysitting his baby brother on Valentine’s day while his parents are having a date night,” Haechan answers. “I’m not saying you have to dress like a prude, but don’t dress like a slut, either.”
Ignoring the insinuation behind his words, you don’t miss the fact he said also. “What do you mean also? Don’t tell me…”
“Exactly what you think. Dad is whisking my stepmom away on a romantic evening date to only God knows where, and Jungwoo is busy with his girlfriend, so me being the sole single-pringle in the family gave him the bright idea to have me baby sit,” he explains, though he doesn’t seem burdened by the task. “I don’t really mind, though. It’d be one thing if I planned on getting some pussy that night, but no one’s smashing at a party where there’s children. I hope not, at least.”
You wince at that. You hope not, too. It’s a setback that you have to re-plan your outfit, but on the plus side, Haechan can and will help you decide this time, even if you have to force him.
So that’s where you find yourself a couple hours later, your bedroom a mess as the aftermath of the meticulous care you’ve put into your self-styling. You’ve narrowed it down to two outfit selections; option A, the white crop-top with the cute pink pants; or option B, the pretty and red mini-dress with stilettos. It’s a little embarrassing that hours of your indecisiveness have led you to this conclusion, but you want to choose the perfect outfit that’s also not overbearing.
“And I have to help you why?”
“Because you’re my best friend, and that’s what best friends are for, duh.”
Haechan’s favorite thing about your place is you have all his utmost favorite games—and that literally everything there is like a piece of you, from the decoration to the smell of your perfume bottles you keep in your bathroom. He’d never tell you that, though—so he wasn’t too enthusiastic about being interrupted from his video-gaming session. But then, he realized he gets a special preview of your Valentine’s day outfit, and Haechan loves the way you dress, probably an abnormal amount. Slutty or prude-y.
“Then what’cha waiting for? Strip for me, princess,” he demands jokingly. It isn’t normal for you to feel bashful by anything a guy says, but everything is so different with Haechan. It’s the littlest, simplist things that drive you over the edge, that make you want him in ways you probably, scratch that, definitely shouldn’t.
And all the questions, assumptions, and rumors regarding your nonexistent relationship with Haechan aren’t exactly unwarranted. You two flirt and touch an abnormal amount, and while it’s common knowledge that Haechan is a touchy person, and you’re a natural flirt, people say it’s extreme between you two.
That makes you laugh. When it comes to the tension between you both that people speak of, you wish you could see what they see.
“You want to watch me strip?” You’re genuinely surprised, only the other day he seemed repulsed by the thought of you naked. “That’s new. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute.”
Haechan rolls his eyes, silently confirming what Jaemin told you at the cafe, but you shake the thought away, refusing to let it spur you on. It doesn’t mean anything. “Anyways. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before, baby girl. Now, you gonna strip or what?”
“I’m stripping, I’m stripping! Relax, Liam Payne!” It’s really nothing he hasn’t seen before, because Haechan’s seen naked girls, and he’s seen you half-naked before, so neither of you actually care. You peel off your top, slowly and in a strip tease sort of way and look him in the eye, giggling once you catch him shaking his head. You don’t repeat the movement with your shorts though, simply taking them off and picking up your new shirt to slip it off the hanger.
Successfully discreet, Haechan wallows in the sight of you half-naked for as long as he can before you’re slipping on the crop top and the pink pants. Now that he thinks about it, he bought you those pants, and darn do they make your ass look good. Then he realizes he’s thinking about your ass and taking not as discreet looks at it, and shakes the thought away.
“So?” Your voice cuts through the silence. “What do you think?”
He needs a moment to gather himself and recollect his thoughts, because he feels like turning on Destiny’s Child’s Bootylicious and if spoke his mind he would definitely say something he’d regret. Like, I could fuck the shit out of you. He doesn’t think he should say that.
“What do you mean, what do I think? I bought you those pants, I’d be damned if I thought you didn’t look good in them,” Haechan supplies, making you roll your eyes in response.
“Very underwhelming reaction. I wanted you to fall out on the floor and pass out for a few seconds with your hand on your chest,” you pout.
“Definitely not doing all that,” he chuckles. “But you do look good enough for… somebody to do it. Anyways, it’s stripping time again. Get in that dress for me, princess.”
If he doesn’t stop with the pet names you’re going to combust. You hide it though, taking off outfit option A and putting on option B. You feel confident in your appearance, with or without him, but the way Haechan’s practically gawking at you does boost said confidence.
“What about this one?”
Okay, so Haechan’s one-hundred percent biased in his decision—or maybe he isn’t, since he didn’t buy this outfit—though nonetheless, he loves this dress on you. In his personal opinion, you’ll look good in anything you wear, but the way this particular dress hugs your figure perfectly is a bonus. He knows all eyes are going to be on you the moment you step inside Chenle’s house, and maybe he’s going to have to keep you and Dohwan close to his side.
Rather than replying verbally, Haechan walks forward and pulls you into a kiss. His hands dip around your waist, skirting the area until he’s gripping you like he’s afraid of letting go.
And as always, you melt into his lips. Like ice to the sun, or wax to a flame. It’s the umpteenth kiss in your whole lifetime, but Haechan always makes it feel like the first time. Like two love-struck highschoolers, except with a lot more experience. Haechan kisses you like he loves you, and you hate it. You might even loathe it.
His fingers slip down your hips, to your revealed thighs, like he just so happens to know that’s one of your weak spots. Luckily you’ve learned some of his weak spots too, and not really thinking, you don’t hesitate to aim for his most sensitive one - his neck. You can’t get used to how beautiful he sounds as he moans, your lips pressing into his sweet spot and leaving undoubtedly a mark.
“Fuck,” Haechan moans, “you’re my kryptonite, you know that?”
“A kiss is all it takes for you to fold?” You gasp out with a smirk.
“Shut up.”
Your grin widens. “Make me.”
Just as he leans in, about to pin you down to your duvet and kiss the life out of you while you’re thinking that maybe this is the tension people speak of, his phone rings in his back pocket. It feels like snapping out some trance or spell, like a reverse Cupid’s arrow, and he instantly backs off of you.
He takes a look at his phone screen. “I um, I gotta take this.”
Biting your lip, you nod. “Okay.”
“You look great though,” he comments, and you smile thinly at him as he slips from between your fingertips yet again.
It seems that you’re left all alone, pathetically wet, and wondering if that person on the other line is Hope - but you try to shake that thought off.
Sighing, you flop against your sheets. Love is some extremely cruel, extremely rigged game that only lucky people win, and it seems that Luck has sided with the evil that is Cupid. You’ve been dealt cards, and Haechan refuses to show you his hand. All you can do is watch it play out.
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Haechan knew that something was dangerously off when Jaemin bought him a brand-new bag of Tootsie Pops without being asked, and invited you over for a movie night with the guys, offering to open up with you and Haechan’s all-time favorite movie, Mean Girls. He even offered to play The Kissing Booth next! Everyone else instantly protested of course, but the fact he offered in the first place is borderline suspicious.
Sure, Jaemin’s not the devil or anything, depending on who you ask. He’s… kind, and he can be a sweetheart. But Jaemin does nothing for free, and Haechan can’t shake the thought that this is planned bribery. And it isn’t hush-money. Jaemin doesn’t buy silence, he buys words.
By the time Jaemin asks Haechan to help him with the popcorn, he’s ninety-nine point nine percent sure that something is definitely wrong here. Yet still, he follows him into the kitchen.
“Alright, what’s up man?” Haechan wastes zero time, wanting to get to the bottom of all this. “I know you want something out of me. There’s no other reason you would offer to play The Kissing Booth, or buy me Tootsie Pops for free.”
Jaemin scoffs, but he doesn’t try to front, “Glad you know. Since we’re on the same page, let’s address this thing with you and y/n.”
“That’s what this is about?” Haechan grumbles. “I’ve told you, I don’t have feelings for her!” He whisper-yells.
Jaemin has heard that far too many times for it to be convincing. He’s positive that even Helen Keller herself could tell you two are hopelessly in love. Takes one to know one, he thinks. It seems the three of you must be blind, because you and Haechan are oblivious to your feelings for one another, and it’s painfully obvious.
“And Mary wasn’t a virgin,” Jaemin says ironically, making Haechan roll his eyes. “If you’re not in love with her, then explain what the hell is going on between you two. I know that she’s your best friend or whatever, but you don’t act like it at all. From a fresh perspective, someone would totally think you’re in love.”
Haechan hates that he’s right. It doesn’t make sense the amount of times you’ve gone to public places and had cashiers refer to you as a couple, or elderly people ask you if you’re together. Because you’re not. You’re best friends, and even if Haechan wants to be more than that, that’s his label. And he’s sure he’s stuck with it for life.
“You’re fucking Hope to distract yourself from your feelings for y/n,” Jaemin adds, and it’s a statement, not a question.
“I’m not—”
“You are,” Jaemin interjects. “Head over heels, in love with a girl you think doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you’re also being an ass to her, whether you know it or not.”
If Haechan was in a situation where he needed to simplify the reason you two click so well, he’d say chalk it up to compatibility and say it’s because you’re like a mirror of one another. Which also means he knows you, better than anyone else even, and he knows neither of you do the whole catching feelings things anymore. You like to fuck and flirt, and fuck some more, to avoid the fact that you love too hard. If you fuck people whose names you don’t even remember, it doesn’t mean a darn thing that you two make out.
No one really knows about that part yet. But they do know that you like to fuck, and that’s why Haechan thinks that if he’s an ass, then that means so are you. What the fuck is he doing that you aren’t?
Even if he is an ass, what is he supposed to do? He’s only recently realized that damn, he actually does have feelings for you, which is where Hope comes along and yes, he is fucking her to distract himself from you. So what? It’s not like it’s working, he’s still stuck on you, obsessed with the thought of you, craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He still loves you, and it’s so scary because no matter what his friends say, he thinks they don’t know you or your relationship like he does. They think they do, but they don’t.
“I’m not in love,” Haechan lies through his teeth, “maybe I’m in like.”
Jaemin snorts. In like? That’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. Not in love his fucking ass. “You’re in denial, that’s what you are.”
Haechan grumbles, trying desperately not to raise his voice so that the others don’t hear him from the living room, “Even if I did like her—and I’m telling you, I don’t—it wouldn’t change anything because she doesn’t like me.”
“You two are the same breed of oblivious and stupid,” Jaemin takes the popcorn out of the microwave, pouring it all into a bowl. He’s even laughing, much to Haechan’s confusion, but he’s apparently unbothered by Haechan’s lack of confession, “but fine. Lie to my face. I still have a backup plan.”
“A back-up plan?” Haechan repeats, lost.
“I just thought it would be nice of me to try and get you to confess before I have to work a Valentine’s day miracle, but unfortunately you two are a match made in heaven—both terribly stubborn,” Jaemin says vaguely, not really answering Haechan’s question, “so I guess we’ll all know the truth at Chenle’s party.”
Jaemin exits with the popcorn bowls before Haechan can even part his lips to ask another question, and he stands there, shocked and unsure of how to react. He’s concerned, though. Jaemin has something cooking (besides the popcorn), and he isn’t sure what, but it’s Na fucking gossiping blabbermouth Jaemin. That means it can’t be anything good.
So apparently when you and Haechan had that heated makeout session the other day, you left a trail - or in other words, you marked his neck the fuck up.
You hadn’t noticed because he covered it up with concealer, but you’re in the middle of another one of those when he stops you, preventing you from repeating your mistake.
“You can’t do that. People will see,” Haechan frowns. You wonder what’s the problem with hickeys. Is he embarrassed? No way. Haechan? Embarrassed? About hickeys? He has much bigger fish to fry.
In contrast, you’re over the moon. Even if he isn’t yours, marking him up makes you feel like he belongs to you. Plus, other people will see, and they’ll know that he isn’t theirs, either. Haechan also has a beautiful neck, you realize as you stare at his skin. It makes you wonder if there’s anything about him that isn’t beautiful.
“Would that be so bad?” You ask. “You’d look sexy all marked up by me.”
Haechan groans, “Do you ever think with your head and not your pussy?”
“I wish my pussy was my head. My head’s just so full of you,” you sigh dramatically.
It’s rare for Haechan to blush, but you somehow manage to make him full-on flush sometimes and you take that as an achievement. It’s partially the reason you love flirting with him so much, he’s so reactive. His reactions are cute sometimes.
“Be serious for 5 seconds,” he whines, and you giggle.
“I was serious,” you insist, “but fine, I’ll think with my head since yours is clearly not working. No one’s gonna assume they’re from me, Hyuck. Just tell them they’re from one of your hoes.”
“I know, but it’s not them I’m worried about. It’s, um…” he trails off.
You’re confused, blinking. If not your friends, then who on earth—oh, for fucks sake.
“It’s Hope,” you utter tonelessly.
“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he wonders why you suddenly sound so dry, and then the whole grocery shopping thing seeps back into his mind. You obviously don’t like Hope, and it’s not just you, really. Lots of people don’t like her. But Haechan needs a pretty face to compete with the image of yours in his head, even if it isn’t winning. “She kinda likes me, and—”
“Do you like her?” You don’t mean to ask so fast. It slips, like your mouth has a mind of its own.
Haechan shrugs. No, he doesn’t like her. He likes you, but he thinks that maybe he can somehow convince himself it’s the other way around. So he replies, “Maybe.”
Fuck. You try not to appear suddenly devoid of life, forcing a cheery smile. “That’s… nice,” you lie through your teeth. “Let me take this opportunity to have one last kiss before I possibly never will again?”
Haechan snickers, to silently say as if. He isn’t wrong for it, either. One kiss is never one kiss with him — never has been, never will be. There’s a reason you both bonded over bombing a math exam.
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D-day rolls around, and you’re eyeing your frame in your full-length mirror, smoothing your palms over your dress as you give yourself a quick once-over before the clock strikes 7PM. You look like that bitch, and everyone in that party is going to fucking know it because you’re going to walk in there like that bitch. Fuck Cupid. You don’t need his stupid bow. And fuck Haechan, too. He’s your ride, but he’s gonna ditch you at some point in the party like he always does. It’ll be no different now, and this time, you’ll be the first one to leave.
The chime of the doorbell jolts you from your mental slumber, and you quickly reach for your purse then head towards the door with a heavy heartbeat. You know he’s already seen you in this dress, he chose it for fucks sake, but there’s something else that gets your heart racing—no. You can’t think about him. Fuck Haechan, remember? He’s no good for you.
“Here goes nothing,” you mutter to yourself, palm on the doorknob, “you can do this.”
Haechan’s sucks in a breath the moment you open the door. You look gorgeous. You always do, but in this particular moment, you look better than you ever have before. Those corny romance sayings usually make him laugh with mirth, but he’s genuinely convinced you look better everyday that he sees you. All dressed up like this, or not.
“You look so pretty, Auntie!” Dohwan beats him to a compliment.
You bend down to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Thank you, Dohwan. You look very handsome.” And then you look at Haechan.
He looks handsome as well, unfortunately. Jet black hair, exposed forehead, and his outfit is black with red hearts in the center of the shirt. You try not to pay him too much mind, but your heart and the place between your thighs don’t seem to agree with your mind. He catches you looking at him, and feels a twinge of anxiousness in his heart. Get it together, man, he tells himself. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t get nervous looking at pretty girls. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate about his actions, either, wondering if he should hold your hand, he doesn’t rethink what he should say. It all comes to him naturally.
“Yeah, you look beautiful,” he settles, mentally cursing himself for being unable to think of anything else. He blames you. Ever since you first snuck in his mind, you’ve been living rent-free there, and make it hard to think about anything else sometimes. That’s why he thought that needed distractions.
If you could relay the message to your heart, you’d tell it stop beating. Instead, you mask your emotion, smiling. “Thank you, likewise. Now c’mon, we gotta get there by 7:30!”
Haechan’s saddened by the dismissal, but you don’t catch his face as you walk to his car.
If you ignore him, you can do this.
Haechan cannot do this.
Something isn’t right. It wasn’t right the second he noticed you gave him a simple, rushed compliment, not bothering to make some sexual remark that usually makes Haechan’s cheeks feel like fire. You didn’t even kiss him before you got in the car. And Haechan’s sure you’ve been avoiding him like the plague, scurrying off and getting lost in the red and pink sea before he could even ask you if you wanted to check out the drink menu.
He doesn’t know where you are, and that haunts him. Turns out Chenle is paying Yangyang, Ten and Jisung to keep the kids entertained on one end of the house, whilst the adults do adult-y things on the other. You could be with someone else for all he knows, hell, you probably are. He was practically fuming when he saw some people staring at you as you walked in.
“Uh oh, I think y/n divorced Haechan,” Chenle jokes, and a choir of laughs follows suit.
Haechan grumbles, “A guy can’t miss his girl best friend?”
“Of course, you can,” Chenle drawls, “but everyone knows she’s more than just a friend to you. Like even if you aren’t together, there’s no way you guys don’t have feelings for each other.”
“Right? And they’re so cute together, too. A literal match made in heaven by angel Cupid,” Jaemin agrees, speaking as though Haechan isn’t right there.
“You’re dating y/n?” gasps Karina, overhearing Jaemin much to Haechan’s dismay. Oh, great, she’s as much as a blabbermouth as he is. The whole world’s going to think Haechan’s dating you in five minutes or less.
“No!”
“Yes, he is, spread the word,” Jaemin says, already knowing he doesn’t have to tell her. Karina’s mumbling I knew it under her breath before jogging somewhere.
“You know,” Haechan starts, downing a shot because if he’s not at least tipsy he’s going to die at this party, “she’s been making me watch murder documentaries with her and I’ve definitely picked up a thing or two. I’d be careful.”
Jaemin scoffs, “Please. You’re going to be kissing my ass and the ground that I walk on by the time this party’s over.”
There it goes. Haechan wonders what’s so special about tonight that Jaemin’s been hinting at vaguely. It’s been keeping him on his toes, but he doesn’t ask because he knows Jaemin, and he isn’t going to tell him a thing. The one time this guy wants to keep something secret.
An hour flies by, and Haechan still hasn’t seen you. He’s looked for you, and refuses to believe his eyes are somehow missing you, even though you’re in a crowd. He literally went up the stars and gazed over the railing for a better view, and you were no where to be found. You’ve refused to answer your phone, too, and Haechan doesn’t know what to do. He would just start talking to some random chick, but that’s not what Haechan wants. He doesn’t want some random chick. He wants to be with you. Hold you. Touch you. Kiss you, with no shame, no fear, in front of everyone, and he isn’t in denial about it. He wants you.
And Jaemin is fed up.
“Alright, I’m tired of you moping around drinking like a divorced man. Let’s go to the kitchen,” Jaemin suggests. Or commands, but still.
Haechan quirks a brow. “Where there’s nothing but more drinks?”
“Trust me, I’m not letting you drink anymore tonight. You have a wife and a kid to drive home,” Jaemin jokes. Usually he’d deny any sort of relationship with you that isn’t best-friendship, but Haechan simply shakes his head, following his friend and roommate into the kitchen.
Then he sees you, and his jaw doesn’t just drop, but it falls flat on the ground, bounces a little, and comes back down. You’re clinging to Chenle’s side with a confused face, equally as surprised to see him, though not very delighted.
“What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?”
You stare at one another.
“Stop copying me!”
“Stop copying me!”
Jaemin and Chenle stare at one another, then stare at you two staring at one another, and stare at one another again.
“I hate to interrupt your… stare-off, but there’s a reason we brought you two here,” Jaemin interjects, making you two finally split gazes as you stare at him, confused.
“Which is?”
“Which is?”
You glare at him. Jaemin’s success was short-lived, it seems.
“Drum roll, please,” he says, and Chenle begins tapping against the counter, “Dohwan!”
Suddenly, Dohwan pops up from around the corner. He’s on the completely wrong side of the house, and while he’s under adult supervision, you still wonder why he’s here.
You blink. “What’s he doing here?”
Jaemin smirks. “I’m glad you asked. Dohwan tells me he’s witnessing some very interesting sights of the two of you. Go ahead and tell us what you saw, kiddo.”
“I saw Haechan and Auntie y/n kissing, like mommy and daddy do!” Dohwan shares, grimacing in disgust. If you weren’t practically fearing for your life right now, you’d probably laugh at his reaction.
“And how often do you see this?” Chenle adds.
“Um…” the kid ponders, “every time Auntie y/n comes over. I heard them say they wanted to keep it a secret from me, but they’re not very good at it.”
Haechan shoots you a panicked look, and you’re wearing the exact same one. By the time you realize that this is what Jaemin’s been hinting at this whole time, it’s much too late. Your secret has been exposed to the worst people ever, and now they’re definitely going to think you’re dating. 
“Thank you for your input, Dohwan,” Jaemin smiles, then turns to look at you and Haechan. You’re both frozen and stiff, unsure of how to respond. “So, anything to say about this?”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Haechan’s quick to say. You hope no one catches the way your face falters with hurt for a split second. “If you want me to be honest, then fine, I will. Yeah, we kiss. We’ve been kissing since high school, but it didn’t mean anything then and it doesn’t mean anything now. We just, I don’t know, do it for fun.”
Chenle deadpans, “So you just kiss for pure, innocent fun.”
“Exactly,” Haechan nods. “It means nothing.”
It means something to me, you think to yourself, and when you notice the silence in the room, you gaze up to see everyone’s eyes on you, Haechan’s a little wide. Oh, fuck.
“I said that aloud, didn’t I?”
“Yep,” Jaemin grins. He was right. “Is there something you want to share with the class?”
Stupidly, you decide to look at Haechan, and he’s re-lost his composure, frozen up and stiff all over again. Your heart is pounding harder than it has been all night. It’s partially the alcohol, but you can feel it in your veins and all around you. It won’t leave you alone, and looking at Haechan, it’s faster, as if to say he’s the one I want.
So you choose to make another decision that you might possibly regret, but you have to get this off your chest. It isn’t news to anyone but Haechan anyways.
“Donghyuck,” you start, and he knows it’s getting serious because you just said his government name. You literally never call him by his government name. “I know we agreed to keep things platonic, and for it to mean nothing, but I want you. Like really, really bad. I think I—no, everyone’s right, I really am, extremely in love with you. If you don’t feel the same I understand, I just had to get this off my che—”
You aren’t given the chance to finish before Haechan swoops you in his arms, reaching for your waist as he pulls you into a kiss. There’s a chorus of cheers from Chenle and Jaemin, followed by a shriek of disgust from Dohwan as he covers his eyes, but you two aren’t trying to hide anymore, you want to scream from the rooftops that you’re in love. Yes, the infamous Lee Donghyuck and y/n know more than flirting and fucking. You’re in love, drunk off of a sip of it and the taste of Haechan’s lips, and god, has kissing your best friend never felt better.
“Let’s give the newlywed couple some privacy now,” Jaemin says with a grin. Gosh, he really is the spawn of Cupid, but you have to thank him. This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for his stupid ‘gotcha!’ plan. “You two work this out.”
The three of them pile out, and you and Haechan part from one another to breathe. You stay in comfortable silence for a moment, his hands slipping into yours.
“Your hands are sweating,” you comment after a while.
“It’s hot.”
“It’s the middle of February.”
“So? Global warming is real, you know,” Haechan shrugs, refusing to acknowledge the fact that his hand is sweating because he’s nervous. He’s accepted that you make him feel all warm inside and his heart feel like mush, but he still isn’t used to not hiding the way you make him feel.
You laugh but don’t press things. “Newlywed couple, huh. Can’t be, you still haven’t popped the question.”
“Yeah?” He laughs, too. “Then will you take my hand in marriage and take me as your illegally wedded husband?”
You hum, pretending to contemplate, “Hmm, I don’t know. You sure you don’t wanna marry a giant cardboard Tootsie Pop cutout? Or what about that girl? What happened to her, by the way, I thought you said you liked her.”
Haechan groans, not really wanting to think about her right now, “No more Hope. Ironically, she’s a lost cause. I had to cut shit with her because she can’t comprehend what a fling is. She wanted a relationship, and you know, I lied to you when I said that I might want her. I didn’t know you liked me back until, like, now, so I was just saying shit in hopes of convincing myself I could stop liking you. That planned failed, though.”
His words lift a massive weight off of your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe now. Take that, bitch, you think with a smirk. She was giggling in your face so hard at the grocery store, but you’re having the last laugh.
You tilt your head. “What about the Tootsie Pops?”
“Yeah, sorry but I can’t give them up as easily. Would you mind a Tootsie Pop bouquet?”
Gosh, this is the man you love. You roll your eyes, but smile as you reply, “You know, you’re like a Tootsie Pop.”
If Haechan were a dog, his ears would perk up right now. “How come?”
“I’ll never know how long I’ll be able to kiss you without wanting to fuck you,” you lean in his ear to purr, voice tickling his neck. You eye it and his lips, and lord knows you can’t wait to finally be able to mark him up again.
“Yeah? Wanna go home, put Dohwan to sleep, and let me take this dress off you?” He grips at your waist, his hand resting there with the burning urge to dip lower. He bites his lip.
“Thought you drew the line at sticking your dick in me,” you joke.
“That was when I was in denial about wanting you,” Haechan whispers, “but now I can admit to myself that even though you amazing in this dress, I wanna take it off of you. Your body’s perfect.”
“I kinda hate the scar on my thigh.”
“Don’t. It provides depth to your character. It makes someone wonder how you got it, the story of how it happened,” he answers, ever so deeply.
“Poetic,” you snort, “can’t tell if you’re giving me Bruno Mars or John Legend vibes more right now.”
Haechan rolls his eyes, smiling. “You said you’d never know how long you’d be able to kiss me without dying to fuck me, right?”
“I never said dying.”
He ignores you, “Then let’s put it to the test, shall we?”
Your lips wind up pressed firmly to his, with your hands on his cheek and his palms on your hips yet again. It’s fiercer than ever, Haechan’s kissing you like he doesn’t want to let you breathe, like he wants to stay in this moment with you forever. He kisses you with love and lust, with passion and desire, with emotion and no more fear in his chocolate-y eyes. You don’t regret kissing Haechan that day. It took a while, but it brought you to this moment where you can finally call him yours. And that one more kiss stuff is bullshit. His lips are yours and vice versa, and as you’re by each other’s side, you’ll never stop kissing him. And he’ll never stop kissing you.
“They’re here!” Karina suddenly bursts into the kitchen, pointing at you and Haechan. “Look! I told you they were dating!”
Oh, god. You totally forgot about Karina’s stupid bet with Mark. Mark looks entirely devastated and surprised, devastated because that’s twenty-five bucks gone from his wallet, and surprised because he genuinely believed you and Haechan have been best friends this whole time. Technically, he isn’t wrong, but you’re not sure if you want to interrupt to tell them that.
Mark whines, “Oh, c’mon! I really thought you guys were just friends.”
“Pay up, loser,” Karina smirks, and with a pout, Mark pulls cash from his pockets.
Haechan looks at you, and while you don’t say anything, you can tell you’re both thinking the exact same thing. The whole campus is about to know you two are dating. Karina’s for sure going to tell everyone she knows, hell, probably even people she doesn’t know, and there’s a ninety-nine point nine percent chance of Jaemin raining your business on everyone in his latest report for the school newspaper.
You can’t say that you care, though. This is what you wanted, to unashamedly love Haechan, to be able to state it proudly in front of everyone, to let everyone know, to claim him as yours and yours only. So fuck Cupid. Fuck his bow, fuck his arrow, because this relationship is all a product of you and Haechan’s hard work and dedication.
Who needs Cupid’s bow when you have tasty lips and Tootsie-Pops?
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“You’re telling me you’ve been in love with me for the past four years? Oh, you’re a soldier. I would have given up in the first month.”
You snort. Part of becoming Haechan’s girlfriend is the process of telling one another the secrets you’ve been keeping, such as how long you can been in love. Haechan’s been in love with you for a solid year, he thinks, maybe two, but it’s been almost four years for you, on the other hand.
“If only it were that easy,” you sigh. “Trust me, I tried getting over you by getting under other people—how Jessie Reyez of me—but that didn’t work out, obviously.”
“You are too much like me,” Haechan shakes his head. “What made you think we should anyways?”
“You mean, four years ago, or now?”
Haechan shrugs. “Either. Give me three reasons.”
“Oh, brace yourself. I could do a presentation on this. One, we know each other’s McDonald’s orders. Two, like you said, we’re very alike. When have we ever argued over pizza toppings?” You reason. “Three, I can’t imagine kissing anybody else. I mean, we’ve basically been practicing on each other for the past four years. I’m the reason you can kiss so good, it would insane for you make out with other people. Four, I have a fat ass and sometimes I catch you staring at—”
“I said three reasons!” Haechan cries, face blooming red as a rose.
“I could go for a fifth,” you grin, “we’re both terrible at math.”
“Damn right we are,” he mutters. “But that’s what makes us… us, isn’t it? The only reason we’re dating right now is because we couldn’t resist kissing each other after one time.”
He’s right. It practically only took one kiss to fall in love with Haechan. He’s giving you major Dua Lipa vibes right now.
“I know you’re thinking about that Dua Lipa song right now.”
You smirk. “You know me very well.”
He tilts his head. “And what else are you thinking about?”
“That you look like all I need,” you say in tune, making Haechan laugh. “And I just want to feel your skin on mine.”
“Then we should do something about that, right?” Haechan smirks back.
You’re kissing the smirk right off his lips seconds later, and this is where you decide that you just can’t get enough of him. Even if one kiss is all it takes, you’re greedy for more, and more, and more, until both your lips are swollen and you’re both gasping for air.
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wip · 1 month
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A very very minor thing I have been curious about for a while, and I'm finally asking: why do you calculate queue posting times the way you do? For example, if I set my queue to post 3x a day, naively I would expect it to post every 8 hours. But in reality it posts every 6 hours with a 12 hour gap between days. Why complicate the math like that?
Answer: Hello @circumference-pie!
Buckle up y’all, it’s story time again!
First: nobody who works at Tumblr right now was a part of the work of planning the default queue implementation, which was more than ten years ago. So the full story behind “Why does it work that way?” has unfortunately been lost to the sands of time. All we can do is tell you how it works today and surmise some reasons why. The queue is actually a very clever system and part of how it works explains some of why it works the way it does. Also, there have been attempts to do what you ask—we still have “Queue 2.0” available in your Tumblr Labs settings, which tries to get closer to how you expect things to work.
Anyway! How the queue works today is not actually a queue in the traditional sense. There is no single list of posts that are in “your queue”. Instead, when you “Add to queue” after creating a post, we’re actually scheduling it to post at a future time, as if you had used the “Schedule post” option instead. We’re just calculating that time on your behalf when you use “Add to queue”, based on your settings, and how many other scheduled posts you have already. We use a secondary “index” model, called “ScheduledPost”, to keep track of posts you have scheduled on your blog. We do mark the ones that are a part of “your queue”, but the data model doesn’t keep one list of your “queue” per se.
You can see this in action on your blog, hiding in plain sight. If you add a bunch of posts to your queue, and then schedule a post for a specific future date, you’ll see both in your blog’s “queue” list, side by side. Because technically to us, they’re the same thing: queued posts are really just another kind of scheduled post, relying on the same always-running service to publish scheduled posts across all of Tumblr. Here’s a fun fact: we typically have about ~14.5 million future posts to publish from this list at any given time and are publishing hundreds of these scheduled posts every second.
So when you’re adding a new post to your queue, what we’re doing behind the scenes is starting at the beginning of your “day”, and creating time slots based on your queue settings. If a time slot is already filled, we move on to the next one. That’s why the default queue scheduler works how you describe—we’re trying to fill those “slots” based on the start of the day, rather than trying to divide the calendar day evenly. This just makes it much simpler for us to understand, scale, and predict when our “peaks” will be. At peak times, the publish-scheduled-posts service is publishing tens of thousands of posts in a manner of seconds. We did rewrite that post-publishing part of this architecture a few years ago to improve its efficiency and solve a lot of “lost post” bugs, but we didn’t change how “Add to queue” works.
However, the Queue 2.0 project available in Labs was an attempt to change the queue system to work as you expect—instead of starting at [beginning of day] and creating enough slots to fit [number of slots] every [number of hours], it tries to divide the calendar day into [number of slots] and fit the result back to the original algorithm’s mapping of the day. We never productionized this alternative approach, because it has a few bugs that some blogs hit in extreme cases, and we’ve never had time to fully fix them. It also can cause a bit of weirdness when time zones diverge, like with daylight savings time. Also, a lot of people prefer the default algorithm, and we haven’t thought of a nice way to transition everyone from one to the other. So for now, both options exist, and you can choose which algorithm for queue-slot-generating you want to use. We hope that makes sense! 
While complicated, it is a great example of a system built by engineers to make sense and be scalable and predictable. But sometimes these kinds of systems, while clever, aren’t very intuitive to understand without digging into how they work.
Thanks for your question, and keep ’em coming. 
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0cta9on · 5 months
Text
Beach Day
length: +3k words
Genre: smut
Nmixx Haewon x Male Reader
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【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Your teacher dismissed the class as the sound of shuffling bags and miscellaneous chatter filled the room.
“Yo, Minhyuk!”
You turn to your best friend, Junseo, who was sat next to you.
“Did you invite anyone to our beach party yet? Jaewon and I already got Lily and Yoona to tag along,” he asks. Your stomach dropped at the question.
“U-uh, no, sorry. I think I’ll just sit this one out, you guys go and have fun without me,” you say.
Junseo sighs, annoyed at your lame excuse. “Dude, quit being a bitch and ask Haewon already. The worst thing she’ll say is no.”
You and your friends had planned on going to the beach this weekend, and Jaewon suggested that all three of you would invite a girl to make things more “interesting”. It’s not that you didn’t have any girl to invite; it’s quite the opposite. You had your eyes dead set on one girl: Oh Haewon. You’ve had a crush on her since you first laid eyes on her and you would gladly sell your limbs if it meant getting to spend one second alone with her. There’s only one problem - She’s the most popular girl in school, and you were just… You.
“That’s the thing, Junseo. She’s obviously gonna say no,” you reason as you grab your things and exit the classroom, Junseo following closely behind you. 
“Why do you think we invited Lily and Yoona? Those three are close, of course Haewon is gonna say yes.” Junseo suddenly grabs your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Speak of the devil, they’re right there.” He points towards the end of the hallway where, lo and behold, Haewon, Lily, and Yoona were talking.
You gulp as your throat suddenly becomes dry. Even in a simple school uniform, she was the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. The overwhelming feeling of attraction towards her makes your heart race, which has the unfortunate side effect of turning you into a blubbering nervous wreck.
Junseo starts pushing you towards her. “C’mon dude, just go and ask her.” You try to stop him, but your legs are practically wet spaghetti noodles at this point. Before you know it, you find yourself right in front of the three girls, their eyes staring back at you.
“H-Hae… H-hhhhh… Hi…” you stutter breathlessly. Junseo smacks the back of your head, bringing you back to your senses.
“Hello ladies, my friend Minhyuk here has something to ask Haewon,” he says, patting your shoulder reassuringly.
You awkwardly clear your throat, staring at the ground as you’re too intimidated to look her in the eye. “U-uh, do you wanna… go to the beach with us tomorrow?” You brace yourself, expecting rejection.
“Yeah, sure, sounds like fun!” she says in a bright, cheery tone. You couldn’t believe your ears at first. Your lips curved onto a goofy smile as Junseo held you up from fainting, your legs reduced to jelly.
“Cool, we’ll see you girls tomorrow then,” Junseo says as he drags you away. Right as you round the corner, you see Haewon and the other two giggling amongst themselves.
______________________________________________________________
*Beep beep beep*
You groan as you shut off the alarm on your phone. 7:00 am. You had a couple hours before Jaewon would pick you up for your beach trip. The excitement from being able to spend alone time with Haewon made you restless, so you decided to put in a quick workout to make sure you looked your best for the beach. While you weren’t an athlete like Junseo and Jaewon were, they always forced you to go to the gym with them, resulting in you having a pretty solid physique that you hoped Haewon would notice.
Time flies by, and after a shower and getting your stuff ready, you hear a honk from outside, signaling Jaewon’s arrival. You head outside and see Junseo hanging his head out of the passenger side window.
“Yo Minhyuk! Hurry up and get your ass in the car!” he yells, a mischievous smirk adorned on his face. You give him a weird look before opening the door to the back, only to be faced with Lily and Yoona.
“Hey, Minhyuk.”
“Hiiiii.”
You give them an awkward nod, feeling a little confused. You assumed the girls would be going in a different car and the three of you would meet them at the beach.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I went ahead and picked up the girls since they live close,” Jaewon says, looking at you through the rear view mirror with a smirk on his face. Jaewon was the most soft spoken out of the three of you, but he always had some kind of trick up his sleeve. You scoot next to Lily, oblivious to whatever he was planning.
“Alright, we just gotta pick up Haewon and then we’ll be good to go. The back is only meant to seat three, but I’m sure you guys don’t mind squeezing her in there, right?” Jaewon says, his smirk growing into a full on toothy smile. Your eyes go wide with shock as the realization hits you - he was planning on smushing you in the back with Haewon. While you weren’t completely opposed to the idea, you can only imagine how much of an awkward mess you’re going to be with her practically breathing down your neck. After a short drive, Jaewon stops in front of what you assume is Haewon’s house.
“I’ll tell her that we’re here,” Lily says, typing on her phone. You gulp, suddenly feeling very anxious. The girl of your dreams was about to be squished next to you and you were almost 100% sure that you would find a way to fumble this. While lost in thought, the car door opens, revealing a smiling Haewon wearing baggy sweatpants and a white, tight fitting tank top that accentuated her breasts.
“Hey guys!” she greets. Lily and Yoona greet her back, while all you can muster is an awkward hand wave.
“Yo Haewon, are you alright with squeezing in the back next to Minhyuk?” Junseo asks, a sly twinkle in his eyes. Your only wish right now is to strangle his neck with the seatbelt.
“Yeah, that should be fine,” Haewon replies as she scoots next to you. You give Lily and Yoona an apologetic look as you push them to make room for Haewon. Miraculously, the four of you are able to successfully pack together like a can of sardines. The soft skin of Haewon’s arm brushes against you, causing your cock to spring to life from the sudden contact. You mentally facepalm as you try to focus on something else, hoping none of the girls notice your bulge.
“Yoona, you can come sit on my lap if it’s too cramped back there,” Junseo says.
“In your dreams, pervert,” Yoona says, grimacing. The rest of the car erupts into laughter while Junseo sulks in his seat.
______________________________________________________________
Junseo and the girls fell asleep on the drive to the beach, while you were way too excited to even think about sleep. 
“Wake up y’all. We’re here,” Jaewon says, shaking Junseo awake. All of you step out of the car, taking in the warm sun and the salty scent of the ocean. You, Jaewon, and Junseo grab your stuff from the trunk while the girls excitedly run towards the sea, kicking up sand behind them.
“Yo Minhyuk, did you have fun back there?” Jaewon teases. You punch his arm in rage while he chuckles at you.
“I fucking hate you, man.”
Junseo wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Chill out dude, we’re just trying to help you out. Remember, you would have bailed on us if I didn’t shove you towards Haewon.” He slaps your back before heading in the direction of the girls.
“He’s right. You're basically a mess without us,” Jaewon says, snickering to himself. A feeling of determination suddenly fills you up. You were dead set on having a good time with Haewon and, if things went well, you would confess your feelings to her by the end of the night. With a huff, you march through the sand, following behind your friends.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to the beach,” Haewon remarks. “Thanks for inviting me, Minhyuk.” She turns to you, flashing a bright smile.
At that moment, all your confidence immediately leaves your body. “Y-yeah, n-no problem, hehe…” you stutter awkwardly. To make things worse, you catch Haewon covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her laughter.
Jaewon places a large picnic blanket on the sand while you set up the umbrella. Junseo sets down a bag of snacks and a cooler full of drinks, completing the preparations. 
“Thank you boyssss,” Yoona says. “Alright, let’s hurry up and get in the water!”
The three of you can’t help but stare in awe as the girls start stripping, revealing their bikini clad bodies underneath. While Lily and Yoona had nice bodies, all of your focus was on Haewon. Her bright yellow bikini top revealed a generous amount of cleavage, while her matching bottoms left practically nothing to the imagination. You felt yourself drool as you imagined getting to explore her smooth curves with your hands.
“Hey perverts, are you gonna join us or not?” Yoona yells, snapping the three of you back to your senses. Jaewon and Junseo quickly discard their shirts before running into the ocean, joining Lily and Yoona. You start to do the same before noticing Haewon, who was sitting underneath the shade of the umbrella.
“Aren’t you gonna go in the water?” you ask her.
“I want to, but I completely forgot my sunscreen at home like an idiot,’ she says, sighing disappointedly. “I’d rather not risk getting sunburnt, y’know?”
You rummage through your bag and pull out a small bottle of sunscreen. “Here, you can use some of mine.” 
She flashes you a bright smile as she takes the bottle from your hand. “Thank you, Minhyuk! You’re a lifesaver!” 
“”Y-yeah, no problem.” Your cock begins to stir in your swimming trunks as you watch her rub the white cream into her smooth skin, your mind filling with sinful thoughts. Then, the unthinkable happens.
“Hey Minhyuk, do you think you could put some sunscreen on my back?” Words you’ve only ever heard in the beginnings of cheap porn films have now come out of Haewon’s mouth. You try to keep a calm expression as she hands you the bottle of sunscreen. 
“Y-y-yeah, I c-can do that,” you stutter, trying and failing to maintain your composure. Thankfully, Haewon doesn’t notice as she lies on her stomach, giving you the perfect chance to ogle her cute ass, barely covered by her bikini bottoms. With trembling hands, you squirt some sunscreen on your fingers and begin gently massaging into her back. 
“Mmmmm, you have such strong hands,” she says, moaning from your touch. You felt your heart pound in your chest with excitement as your hands caressed her lower back. Her skin was as smooth as you had imagined, your fingers easily gliding over her curves. This intimate situation felt like a dream come true that you never wanted to wake up from.
“Oh Minhyuk, that feels so good.” You felt your ears burn bright red as your cock stood at full attention. Everything else faded away as you focused on giving Haewon the best massage you could muster. The sunscreen acted as lube as you gently pushed your digits into her back, eliciting more moans. It became a game to you as you figured out which spots she liked most. Your breathing became heavy with arousal as the chorus of Haewon’s moans filled your ears.
Suddenly, Haewon sits up and grabs your wrists, glaring at you. You gulp, worried that you may have taken things too far. Without a word, she pulls you up and drags you away from the picnic blanket.
“U-uh, Haewon? Where are we going?”
She ignores you as she drags you behind a large boulder, away from everyone else. Her demeanor suddenly turns timid as a pink blush appears on her cheeks and her shaky eyes are unable to meet yours.
“Haewon? What’s wrong?” you ask, becoming increasingly bewildered by her behavior. Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but find her cute as she nervously twiddled with her fingers, her impressive cleavage on full display.
“U-um, I’m sorry if this is weird, but that massage got me all h-hot and…” Her words trailed off as the pink on her cheeks evolved into tomato red.  You couldn’t believe her words at first. Did Haewon want you to…? Without hesitation, you pulled her closer and smashed your lips against hers. Your gamble pays off as she wraps her arms around your neck, moaning into your mouth. With newfound confidence, your hands explore more of her body, tracing her every curve. Your right hand cups her plump ass cheek while your other hand gently squeezes her breast, giving you the perfect chance to shove your tongue inside of her mouth as she opens it to moan. The sweet taste of strawberry lip gloss covers your taste buds as your tongues squirm in an erotic dance.
You eventually break the kiss as the need for oxygen manages to trump your carnal desires. Haewon stares deep into your eyes as she catches her breath, her hand snaking down your torso before stopping on your erect bulge. A low groan escapes your lips from the contact, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.
“C-can I touch your cock?” she asks, her voice trembling. You always saw Haewon as an outgoing bundle of energy, so seeing her this timid and horny made you go feral. With a nod, you lower your swimming trunks, revealing your rock hard cock to her in all its glory. Haewon gasps as she kneels in front of you, inspecting your full length with wide eyes. The sight of her innocent face next to your cock would be forever etched into your mind. 
“Oh my god, you’re so big, Minhyuk,” she whispers in awe, gently wrapping her fingers around your member. Her hands felt like Heaven against your cock as they clumsily stroked it. “U-um, I’ve never done this before. Can you help me?”
“Y-yeah, sure. Uh, why don’t you try kissing it first?” you suggest. Haewon obediently complies as she places gentle kisses on your shaft, staining it with her lip gloss. Each kiss sends a shockwave of dopamine throughout your entire body.
“Is that okay?” Haewon’s large eyes look up at you, searching for approval.
A smile grows on your face as you pat her head. “Yes, that’s great, Haewon. You should try sucking it now.”
Haewon giggles excitedly before taking the tip of your cock into her mouth, running her tongue against your slit. A moan escapes your mouth as your hands instinctively reach for the back of her head, encouraging her to take in more of you. You would’ve never guessed that she was inexperienced with how easily your cock slides down her throat. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt before - pure ecstasy.
“F-fuck, Haewon. You’re so g-good, holy shit..”
Lust takes control of your body, your fingers interlocking with her hair as you roughly fuck her face. Haewon’s eyes well up with tears, but she makes no move to pull away, happily accepting your whole length. Saliva dripped from her mouth, the dirty image only fueling your arousal. Without warning, you shot your load down Haewon’s throat, the heavenly feeling of her mouth becoming too much for you to handle. After what feels like an eternity of cumming, you release her from your grasp. Haewon collapses backwards onto the sand, drool and cum staining her perfect face.
“S-Shit, are you okay?!” you ask, worried you may have been too rough on her. 
Haewon props herself up and smiles at you. “Th-that was… i-incredible…” she stammered, catching her breath. “C-can you put it inside me? P-please?”
Her words reinvigorate you causing your cock to become hard once again. You quickly pull Haewon to her feet and untie her top, tossing it aside to reveal her ample breasts. Your mouth latches onto her tits while you shove your free hand inside of her bottoms, rubbing her moist slit.
“Oh fuck! That feels so good, Minhyuk…” Haewon whimpers as she plays with your hair. Any ounce of common sense left in your mind was thrown out the window as your only goal right now was to pleasure the girl of your dreams in every way possible. Your heart chugged like the engine of a steam train as you worshiped Haewon’s body with every flick of your tongue and every swipe of your finger against her heat. Eventually, you detach your mouth from her breasts, staring into her eyes while you finger her pussy.
You lean into her ear and whisper, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I-I like you, Haewon.” You curl your fingers inside of her, coercing a high-pitched moan out of her as her body is reduced to putty in your hands.
“I-I l-like you too, Min- Ah, fuck! P-please fuck me!” she exclaims. Haewon holds onto your shoulders for balance, nibbling on your neck to muffle her erotic noises. Her confession only increased your skyhigh libido, ripping her bottoms away and lining up your cock with her dripping pussy. Slowly, you thrust forward, impaling her with your erection.
“H-holy shit…” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
“A-are you okay, Haewon?” you asked, pausing your motions to check up on her.
“Y-yes, k-keep going please. Fuck, y-you’re so big…” Haewon looked up at you with pleading eyes. You could’ve sworn her irises turned into hearts for a second.
You continue thrusting forward, catching her lips in a kiss that was much gentler than the one before, eventually bottoming out inside of her. Gripping her supple thighs, you mentally thank Jaewon and Junseo for dragging you to the gym as you lift Haewon’s body with ease. You increase your pace, each thrust punctuated by Haewon’s cute whimpers and the occasional “fuck”, “ah”, and “yes”. Her ample breasts bounced in front of your eyes as Haewon threw her head back with pleasure. You still couldn’t believe that you were fucking your crush on the beach.
The pressure built up inside of you as you savored the feeling of her warm, tight cunt around your penis. You did your best to hold on for as long as possible, but the sensation was becoming overwhelming. “H-Haewon… I-I’m gonna… c-cum…” you groaned.
“F-fuck… C-cum in me, M-Minhyuk… I-I wanna feel you fill me up…” The vulgar words coming out of her mouth were enough to send you over the edge as you shot your second load deep inside of her womb. Haewon continued to bounce on your cock, her own orgasm taking over. Your legs eventually give out as both of your naked bodies collapse onto the sand, your cock never leaving the warmth of her pussy. Haewon laid on top of you, planting kisses on your neck and chin as you caught your breath.
“That… was fucking amazing, Minhyuk,” she giggled, tracing random patterns on your chest with her index finger. You wrapped your arms around her, the warm rays of sunshine beating down on the two of you.
Eventually, the two of you get up and put on your discarded bathing suits. “We should do this again sometime,” you quipped. Haewon laughs and grabs your face, planting a gentle peck on your lips.
“I would like that a lot.” Hand in hand, you return to your friend group, ready to enjoy the rest of your day at the beach with your new girlfriend.
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