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#rare pairs are just so fun to talk about
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I’m a huge Multishipper and find the merits of almost any Ship for Bob’s Burgers. I’ve seen so many good content for so many lovely ships!! Here are some of my favorites (and the blogs that produce the best content for these ships):
Tina/Josh is so underrated, in my opinion. The show did make it so they’ll never be canon (probably), and Josh didn’t get nearly enough screentime, but I think they’re adorable. I loved them so much in Linda-Pendant Woman, with Tina pulling a Prince Charming and trying to find who Josh’s bandaid belonged to. And their Fresh Feed kiss!! Tbh, I kind of ship them the most (please don’t come for me) and they’re super cute. But the show’s most likely not going to do anything else with them. They have a ton of potential, and I wish they spent more time fleshing Josh out as a character. If they had, this ship had the potential of being as good or even better than some of the other ships with Tina. I also definitely headcanon Josh as Bi. That boy is not straight in my opinion.
Tinimmy is such a classic, I adore it and all of the lovely content that @drawthethingdoppelganger and @jimmyjrsmusoems have put out. These two are the absolute Tinimmy Queens, so if you want Tinimmy content, go to their blogs immediately!! It helps that this ship is basically canon, and Jimmy Jr. is such an awkward dork 😭 He doesn’t know how to express his emotions, but he does care so much about Tina despite what some people say 😒 It’s so frustrating when people always put J Ju down because of one episode (V For Valentine-Detta). Yes, it was a jerk move, but he’s a flipping middle schooler!! And it wasn’t even that bad, anyway. And one bad move doesn’t erase all of the lovely things he’s done for Tina. Like finding her Barrecklace and saying it made him think of her?? Wanting to do a Sky Kiss with her?? Agreeing to go on a date to Pie in the Sky even though he’s not really a fan, and inviting her on a completely genuine date to Fro-Yo Mama?? Come on, these two are adorable. And they deserve a coffee date sometime if DT’s recent art is anything to go by. I also headcanon Jimmy Jr. as Bi sometimes and a heavily closeted Gay boy other times. It kind of depends how I’m feeling, pffffft. @br1ghtestlight has headcanoned him as Aro/Ace, and that’s a fun and valid interpretation too, but I usually feel as if he does have some sort of interest in Tina romantically. I’m not sure. I guess it depends??
Zekina is so cute even though I don’t ship it as much as the other two. Zeke wanting to take Tina on a date to the aquarium and then out for tacos is just so adorable!! But it always annoys me so much when people say that Zeke is obviously the better choice for Tina and is always nicer to her and always has her best interests at heart. Like, Zeke is a sweetheart, but he’s had his moments of not being great to Tina. He’s a teenager just like Jimmy Jr. He’s not obviously the better choice for her just because he suggested that date of tacos and touch tanks. Zekina is lovely, and I respect anyone who ships it and makes content for it. I definitely see the appeal. But people really need to stop coming for Jimmy Jr. Yes, I will keep yelling about this forever 😭 Anyway, if you want some of the best Zekina content, you must go to @theangrypomeranian’s blog right now. You should absolutely read Baby Steps!! I started it but haven’t gotten far because of the length, but everyone should go read it and support them!! @br1ghtestlight has also written a Tina and Zeke fic (though they might just be platonic there) that I still haven’t read yet, but everyone should go read that too.
Zeke/Jimmy Jr., aka Zesto (not sure if that’s their actual ship name, but it should be) is great. It has so much potential, and I ship it a ton. I tend to ship Tina/Josh and Zeke/Jimmy Jr. the most, not because of Jimmy Jr., but because those are the ships I just enjoy the most and I think have the best potential/chemistry. But plenty of other ships have lovely potential and chemistry too!! Anyway, these two can be read equally well as platonic besties, but them being together romantically intrigues me. It would be a ton of fun, I think. They would definitely be a chaotic couple, but a cute one. I mean, Jimmy Jr.’s reaction when he thought Zeke would start going to a different school?? He was so stressed!! And Zeke always wanting to wrestle with J Ju as a sign of affection? And agreeing to do things like help J Ju get a chicken nugget in his mouth? I love.
Genecadero is adorable and @dianadeadwing has made such cute artwork for them. Gene doesn’t have many ships, and I probably enjoy this one the most. It’s definitely a rare pair. Gene deserves a cute romance with a sweet partner!! It’s weird to me when people sometimes say that Gene is too young for that when the show already tried giving him a straight relationship with Courtney. Yes, they broke up, but still. The showrunners are clearly open to giving Gene a relationship. I love the idea Diana brought up of Peter not-so-subtly having a crush on Gene and Gene just not getting the hints. But I like to think he becomes super lovestruck and a super doting partner when he’s older.
I’m cheating and putting Gene/Alexis (I came up with a super cute ship name for them now now I can’t remember what it is ☠️ Does anyone want to help me come up with one??) on here, because I was like “Welp, if others don’t want to give Gene many ships, I’ll make one myself!” I’ve grown very attached to Alexis as an OC, and I’ve suddenly realized he has similarities to Alex 😭 I imagined them both as being voiced by Thomas Middleditch, their names are similar, and are both kind of nerds. But I think that’s where the similarities end. I definitely wanted Alexis to stand out as a character, and I think he’s still different enough from Alex. Anyway, I can’t help but talk about these two, they make my heart sing. I will never get tired of making content about them or just rambling about them like here.
Gene/Sasha is such a rare pair, and the enemies to lovers potential?? Amazing, actually 🤌🏼 If this ship wasn’t so rare, I think it would have Louigan potential, tbh. I love the idea of these two talking more and bonding, because let’s be real, Sasha is 1,000% not straight. Just look at him. Their ship also kind of reminds me of Dipcifica from Gravity Falls, with the rich kid potentially opening up and becoming a better person thanks to someone else’s influence. I just love a good Enemies-to-Lovers romance, and the potential they have for banter is immaculate.
Ahhh, Roudise (aka Louwheeze, which is an incredible ship name), is just the cutest thing on earth, I adore it. I love a good Friends-to-Lovers, and I think I just have them on the brain because of Roudise Week. They’re just adorable and basically canon like Tinimmy. I probably ship them the most?? They just make me happy. I love how Rudy brings out Louise’s softer side, and Louise helps bring Rudy out of his shell. Their friendship is precious, their potential romance even more so. I just have a lot of thoughts about these two, they make me happy. Also, Louise slapping Rudy after kissing him in Bob, Actually sends me every time. If you want some of the best Roudise content, go to @ltwharfy and @devilh0rnsinc. Their Roudise content is just so lovely!!
Louigan!! This ship is great too. I don’t understand why people who ship it get blocked. There’s so much potential there!! Again, Enemies-to-Lovers is one of my favorites. And their potential for banter?? Amazing. Incredible. No notes. If you want the best Louigan content, you must go to @babsvibes immediately. I started reading Stacy’s Cardamom, which is basically her Magnum Opus. I haven’t finished it yet, but it’s incredible and everyone should go read it. She’s truly the Louigan Queen and got me interested in this ship in the first place. And she was kind enough to invite me onto the Louigan Discord, which has been an absolute blast (even though I hardly share anything Louigan on there ☠️). I want to change that and make more Louigan content. I have a lot of ideas. Y’all better watch out if Louigan Week happens again next September 👀 Louigan Week was also amazing this year!! Everyone show Babs some love for running that incredible event.
Louissica is cute and has potential. I feel as if it’s quite similar to Roudise as a cute, charming Friends-to-Lovers. But Jessica just needs to appear more and be more developed as a character, because she just hasn’t appeared enough for me to have as many thoughts about this ship as all of the others I’ve listed so far. I loved them hunting for that Wharf Monster together, that was such a fun side plot. And them bonding at Louise’s sleepover when she’d driven everyone else away.
BOBLIN. If there’s a ship from this show I love the most, it’s Boblin, no contest. There’s a reason my very first ask to DT was Boblin-related. But I’ve rambled about them enough, so I’ll try to keep this short, pfffffft. They’re an example of a couple that’s as close to perfect that I’ve ever seen. They’re so sweet you’ll get a cavity, they’re domestic, and they’re ancient as hell muppets. What else could you want?? I love how their love stems not just from huge, loud, romantic gestures. It also stems from more quiet, subtle moments. Like Bob massaging Linda’s feet. Or Linda deciding to give Bob a quiet night in for his birthday, because she realized he’d enjoy that the most. Or Bob making her a heart-shaped pancake on Valentine’s Day. You get the idea. If you want the best Boblin content, then @jimmypesto is your girl. She’s written some of the best BB fics I’ve read, and the way she writes Boblin is unmatched. She’s such a talented writer, it’s insane. She’s also written a ton of Boblin smut, if that’s your thing!!
Frondbrose is wonderful. These two also have such good chemistry and banter, it’s insane. Their Enemies-to-Lovers potential is insane. I wish they were canon so bad. They definitely need to interact more. Mr. Ambrose showing his softer side for Mr. Frond is just so adorable to me!! This man would be the epitome of “I hate everyone, but I don’t hate you 😌” They make me all giggly. I can’t get enough. They’re definitely the type to have Hate Sex once and then deny it ever happened 🤣. But everyone would know the truth.
Tedmort is so cute and has so much potential. I love it. I think Teddy and Mort’s friendship is precious already, but a potential relationship between them?? The wholesomeness meter would be off the charts. They can be an ancient muppet couple like Bob and Linda!! Mort would treat Teddy 1,000% better than Denise, but tbh, anyone else would treat Teddy better than Denise. If you want Tedmort, then @keepyourhornson-spyro is the person for you!! They’ve written some lovely Tedmort fics that everyone should read.
Marshmallow/Nat has such potential, and there should be content about them!! It just seems like such a fun ship, and I think being with Marshmallow would help Nat get over her ex-girlfriend. These two also share a similar vibe of just coming and going as they please, and “being truly free” 😌 I still love that Marshmallow is canonically Trans and Nat is canonically a Lesbian. They’re wonderful.
Hemita is a canonical rarepair, which I didn’t think was possible, but here we are. I think they’re so cute and definitely good for each other. Susmita asking out Henry in Morse Code?? That was adorable. We need more moments of these two being cute. I love them.
Barryl is such a rare pair and has won me over so much. There’s just something that makes sense about these two being together that’s difficult to describe. There’s something so sweet about Becky being able to find love after being unlucky with Jimmy Jr. Darryl would be such a sweet boyfriend to her, and she would be such a sweet girlfriend in return. They would be so cute holding hands and listening to the Frozen soundtrack on repeat. Sure, to ship them, you need to ignore Rosa, but she was only in one episode anyway. I gotta shout out @theangrypomeranian again for basically creating this entire ship herself. Amazing.
Arnlee is such a gigantic rare pair it’s insane, and they’ve definitely won me over too. They’re so cute!! They’re just two socially awkward kids who would work really well together. They deserve to have some sort of side plot where they bond. I would love that. @devilh0rnsinc made the cutest art of these two together for @ltwharfy, and that was what officially won me over. That and @ltwharfy’s adorable fic about them which everyone should go read.
I might cut myself off there, because this post is insanely long. But it just goes to show how many lovely ships there are in this fandom. And they’re all valid. Seriously, can we please just respect each other and who we ship??
Anyway, there’s a little something for everyone in terms of ships, and I just love that so much. Everyone needs to check out all of the blogs I mentioned for some lovely content❣️They’ve also just been so sweet and welcoming towards me, I can’t stress that enough!!
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highlifeboat · 2 months
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*kicks in door* TRASH FATHER, WHAT IS YOUR WISDOM? (I saw the "speak garbage" tag and yeah, opportunity found) (Move over Heisenberg, we've got Boat)
Any ship is a popular ship if you're deranged enough about it
And no matter what you think of your own work, there's always somebody who'll see it and go "Fuck yeah that's good shit right there."
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orcelito · 1 year
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Some1 trying to debate with me in the comments of my fucked up akechi character study one shot like. Literally why did you even click on this in the first place???
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just-mebs · 1 year
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I just noticed that on your about you have EngieScout marked as a "current interest" but not TF2 itself lol
Engie//Scout is my child, my love and joy, the water for my crops, the sugar in my lemonade...
TF2 is just kind of there
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saetoru · 7 months
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Tee…
I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE
(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)
idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.
i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.
and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.
but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.
but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.
and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.
until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”
the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”
and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”
and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.
he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.
they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.
he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.
he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.
that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.
you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.
it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.
he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.
such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.
you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.
“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”
life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.
but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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Genshin Men + Breeding as a Kink or Breed to Impregnate
Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, breeding kink, teasing, mention of pregnancy, tail use, possessiveness, mating press, rut/heat
A/N: Wrote things like this before but I really like thinking about it.
Kaeya has a just breed kind of mentality. He may dirty talk and say he will pump you full and make you pregnant but it's just talk. Better than anyone he knows that he's not in the right place to make anyone pregnant because he wouldn't be able to be there for the kid. All the creampies he may give you never actually result in anything, he's way to careful and reminds you to take the morning after pill.
Diluc wants kids with you, really badly but he's not always serious about it. His breeding kink is obvious, he loves to see his cum inside you, he loves to push it inside you and even talk about having a family some day but only when you're both ready. When that moment happens he will fuck you until he sees your belly get round with his child, so you better make damn sure it's what you want.
Itto always breeds to impregnate you, he doesn't even need to be in his oni rut to have that urge. That deep and primal need to fill you with his seed and watch you get bigger and bigger, give birth to a healthy baby and how you'll raise it together. Whenever he can he will put you into a mating press, his balls always slapping against you at lightning speed as he roars about how he'll make you pregnant.
Childe isn't sure if he wants a kid or not but he does enjoy the sight of you when you're all fucked out of your mind and have his cum spilling from your pussy. Can say quite a few things in the moment he rarely means them, so you always have to have a conversation afterwards if you should take the pill or not. He can't help the gleeful smile on his face when the day comes that you don't take it.
Pantalone talks about it often but is always the one who pulls out, leaving no possibility of you getting pregnant. For him the dirty talk does a lot and he knows you're the same, you want all of the fun but none of the risk, which is why he loves you so much, you understand him perfectly. Besides seeing his cum on you is a much better sight if you ask for his expert opinion.
Dottore never breeds you without thinking it could take, or at least hoping. You may think it's just words but it's not. He's always rough, always leaving you shaking and twitching and unable to walk but when he sees the first signs of pregnancy he makes sure to keep his hand on your stomach at all times, protecting the life you managed to create together.
Wriothesley teases you by saying he will breed you but you're never quite sure if he will. You want it and he knows it by the way you lock your legs around him to make sure he doesn't pull out like he sometimes will. It's you who always begs him to stay inside, so of course he will, but you also know that he is a busy man, there will be time to have a family, doesn't mean you can't enjoy the creampies.
Zhongli is only serious about it when his mating season hits and the needs becomes too much to suppress. Much like his possessiveness. He wants to make sure you're marked inside and out, a mating bite on your neck, an imprint from his tail around your thigh, his seed in your pussy, his scent all over you. Will do whatever it takes to make sure you carry the pregnancy safely if it happens.
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dreaming-medium · 1 month
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No Contact
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Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k
Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort
Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.
A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3
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No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 
No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 
He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.
Hell, it might even make you worse. 
It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 
But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 
It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?
You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 
He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 
He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.
But he wasn’t. 
A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.
Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 
For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.
He was the last to know. 
After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.
Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 
Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 
You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 
It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 
Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 
Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 
He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 
He never got to see you. 
“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?
“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”
A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”
Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 
Does that mean…?
No…
“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“
The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”
Chan was suddenly in a chair. 
When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  
“It’s not forever, son.”
Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.
Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.
He gets it now. 
The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 
Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.
Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?
Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?
“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”
It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 
You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.
It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 
Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 
God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.
How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?
5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 
He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 
Mice would get to it before you did. 
His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 
All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.
It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 
Just like him.
It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 
He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 
Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.
Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 
Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 
There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 
You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 
This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 
It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 
Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 
Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 
Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 
You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 
To him too. 
It’s the library where he first met you. 
The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 
He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 
Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 
Absolutely not. 
The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 
There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 
Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 
His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 
There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 
On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 
Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 
When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 
Your eyes met. He was a goner. 
How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 
Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.
Maybe you’re not working today? 
No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 
Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 
He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 
His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 
Empty. 
You-less. 
If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 
What a moment. 
Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?
He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 
Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.
“Can I help you find something?”
His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 
Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 
His throat immediately tightens. 
There you are. You. Beautiful you. 
Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 
“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?
You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 
Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”
No.
“Yeah.”
You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”
He knows. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 
Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 
You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”
Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 
He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.
But—
“If you need anything, let me know.”
You start to walk away.
Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 
His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!
“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 
You turn around with a curious look. 
“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”
He knows. You collect different translations of it. 
“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”
With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 
He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 
You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 
Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 
The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Y/N, please. 
“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 
Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 
“Thank you,” he whispers back. 
You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 
From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 
You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?
“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”
It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 
You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 
Y/N, please. 
“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 
Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 
Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 
Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 
He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 
He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 
Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 
He knows everything. 
“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 
You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?
“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”
Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 
“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 
Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 
After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 
“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”
Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 
Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”
Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 
Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 
Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.
“Chan,” he answers softly. 
“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 
Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.
“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 
“You too, Chan.”
And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 
—————————————————————
A bad idea was going into the library that day. 
An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 
And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 
And the worst part? You said yes. 
So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 
How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 
Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 
His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 
“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 
“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 
“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”
Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 
“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”
His jaw clenches. Now or never. 
“It’s with me,” he blurts. 
Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 
“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”
He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 
“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 
“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 
She’s right. What if you don’t? 
“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”
Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”
—————————————————————
“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 
Yes, you have. 
“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 
“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”
He looks back down at the old menu. 
This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 
The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 
“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 
He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 
“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 
A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”
It was your favorite. 
“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 
His eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“‘Cause of your allergy.”
He stops. 
You stop. 
He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 
His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”
Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”
You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”
He definitely did not say something. 
Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 
The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  
You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 
A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 
Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 
You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 
“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”
He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 
“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 
What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 
“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 
Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?
“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”
He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 
Your phone rings. 
A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”
“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 
A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 
“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”
Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 
—————————————————————
It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 
“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”
You already have. 
“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 
“Changbin sounds like a blast.”
He was your favorite before.
“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”
And you have. 
A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 
Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 
With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 
You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.
“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 
Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 
The brightest smile stretches over your face. 
God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.
He can’t help it.
He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 
“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”
Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 
“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”
“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”
Another laugh from you. 
“Shameless flirt.”
He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 
Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 
It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 
He wants to kiss you so bad. 
Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?
Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 
“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 
Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 
It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 
The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 
Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 
His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 
Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 
You’re always so enchanting.
Is this a good idea? 
Is kissing you the best option? 
But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?
Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 
One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 
Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 
He can’t take it anymore. 
Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.
But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 
He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 
It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 
He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 
But he is. 
He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 
How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 
Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 
Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 
God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 
His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 
He immediately stops. 
Why is your face wet?
Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 
You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?
Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 
“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?
“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.
Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 
“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”
Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 
Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 
Every muscle in your face is twitching.
What’s happening?
“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 
Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 
Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?
Please. 
Slowly, your hand falls from his. 
Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 
He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.
Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 
“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 
He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 
But you do.
“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You know him. 
“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”
Chan. Not Channie. 
He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”
His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 
Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 
“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”
Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 
The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 
You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.
“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”
You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 
“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”
Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 
“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 
How is your voice so even?
Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 
He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 
“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 
“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.
“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 
More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 
“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”
Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 
Him. You’re talking about him. 
Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 
Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 
You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 
Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”
Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 
You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 
That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 
“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”
A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 
A sob tears from his throat. 
You grip his hand tighter. 
“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 
“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”
Oh, god, Y/N.
“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”
He breaks. 
He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm. 
He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 
Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 
Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  
Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 
You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 
Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 
Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 
“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”
Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”
Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 
Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”
Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 
Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 
“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”
Channie. You called him Channie.
He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 
You’re still crying. Both of you are. 
“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 
All he can do is cry. 
Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 
The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 
Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.
You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 
“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.
“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”
He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 
“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”
Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 
"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."
His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.
The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.
It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.
But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.
The burn is soothed.
“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”
His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”
“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”
Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 
You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 
His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 
“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”
“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”
2K notes · View notes
dynsdiary · 1 month
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━━ wellie elliams
pairings : streamer!ellie williams x reader
warnings : use of yn, mentions of using weed/nic, lowkey self inserted uhh, more focus on ellie than ellie x reader
cr : @idontgetanysleep & @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
a/n : guys i really enjoyed doing this, had a thought of ellie's reactions to read fics about her, her edits (esp with the ai audios, shout out to akemi, i love her) & fan arts
DAILY CLICK
DONT BUY TLOU
WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE
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👾 starts off doing streaming just for fun & thinks to herself that no one’s gonna watch it until people actually enjoy watching her play.
🎮 definitely play minecraft and would argue with KIDS on roblox and get competitive with them while playing.
🕹️ OBSESSED WITH FORTNITE LITERALLY A FUNDRAISER TO FORTNITE
👾 definitely would say this "i can cook, clean and carry you on fortnite" to flirt with girls
🎮 she definitely has a cat(s) and people would always want it on the stream
🕹️ i can totally see her raging while playing valorant lolll and would definitely waste money on the skins too.
“okay chat, should i buy it? nah, im just gonna buy it” the chat floods with saying no but will she listen to you guys? no. “okay, i just bought it! watch my aim get better chat” her aim DOES NOT get any better lol but at least the skins are pretty!!
👾 she’s surely shy at first and won’t show her face, hell even her hands !! she just shows what she's playing and just talk
🎮 would try to be social with her “fans” as much as possible cause she likes to hang out with them.
🕹️ would do a face reveal after she hit the milestone!! and people would go CRAZYYYYY. i mean who wouldn’t, right? it’s ellie williams!!!
👾 she probably would be active on twitter more and sometimes on tiktok and rarely on instagram (just to update story and her feed)
🎮 tweet the most unhinged things YET doesn’t get cancelled because somehow all of her tweets are kind of relateable…
🕹️ other than streaming her gameplay she would definitely do some reaction, play her guitar and sing, reviewing things that are so useless & stupid
👾 talking about reactions, SHE WOULD TOTALLY REACT TO THE EDITS, ART AND FICS ABOUT HER (she thought it was funny and some of the fics are BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN)
smelliewilliams : OH NO SHE KNOWS iloveellie69 : uhh yall better hide !!!! livelaughloveellie : ellie pls dont react to it 😇 simpforels : FOR YR OWN SANITY!! “chat, you’re going crazy” she scoffed. few minutes later… “oh wow, that sure is something! haha uhm…” "the technology is getter scary, how does she makes it sounds like me. like does that not sound like me actually saying it?? it's really impressive" her reacting one of the edits with ai audios that sounds like her “YALL ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD AT DRAWING”
🎮 she appreciates all of your edits, fics and arts! would totally do friday fanarts or something like tom felton would do lol!
🕹️ people BEG her to do vlogs, cause it would be fun and silly vlogs!
👾 her music taste is 👩‍🍳 💋, source? trust me bro.
🎮 people would want her to do a room tour cause somehow she keeps her room clean & tidy but also a really cool room
🕹️ small lights >>>>>> big lights
👾 people would be shocked if they knew how smart ellie is 😭 a major nerd if you ask me ! there's no doubt that she starts to share some fun facts that she knows & takes some online quizzes to prove that she's smart
🎮 would totally go on omegle and just troll or make new friends
🕹️ that is where she met you !!
you were bored one night and decided to go on omegle just for fun and you met her there. although ellie's platform is big, she still doesn't know half of the influencers or streamers so her chat goes CRAZY when she sees you and is like matchalvr : OMG IS TGAT YN ???? smelliewilliams : ELLIE YOURE SO LUCKY justanormalgirl : MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING “wait a second, are you yn?” she asked ”that’s me” “why is my chat going crazy about you?” her eyes scanned the chatroom. “hold on, you do streaming too?”
👾 started to play with you more and she would occasionally join your stream and support you there if she can't play (since the timezone sucks)
🎮 people start shipping you two and one-day ellie liked an edit of you and her (which is super hot and the audio is boaf? BOAF!! , pls get what i mean 😢) and the fandom went insane
🕹️ the two of you started to get close and plan to meet each other sometime in the future
👾 LOL WOULD TOTALLY DO THE “when the gc makes it to the hang out” TIKTOK, the gc is being JUST the two of you 😭
🎮 she would either have an energy drinks, juice or water on her table.
🕹️ her sleep schedule is FUCKED UP, that’s explaining her dark circle & eyebags.
👾 love when people greet her at public place, she just love meeting her fans
🎮 oh im pretty sure she goes to the twitch con (?) thingy and would probably go with you as your date hehehehehehehhehehehe
🕹️ have figurines and legos displayed in her room
👾 super open about her using weed & nicotine (to sleep)
🎮 is open minded and an open book
🕹️ would do "my anons dark secrets confession" thingy
👾 OH SHE WOULD DO ASMR FOR FUN & people actually enjoyed it lol
🎮 she would play dress to impress with you
🕹️ STREAMING TOGETHER WITH YOUUU
👾 when the two of you are officially dating, both of you wear "i love my hot gf" every single streaming session
🎮 she loves matching bro so matching avatar in games
🕹️ would talk about you 24/7 EVEN WHEN SHE DIDNT MEAN TO
"oh me and my gf just-" , "chat, me and yn are-" elsyngfs : OKAY ELLIE WE GET IT!!!!!!!! ynssimp : i get it ellie, i too would talk abt her a lot ynaalyn : WHERE DO I FIND THIS RS GUYS idwtowatchellie : BRO UR R A LOSER GF smelliewilliams : gosh imagine if they're not ldr...
in conclusion, she's literally a loser lovesick lover girl
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REMINDER !!
that neil is a zionist and therefore dont buy his games, doesnt matter remastered or not !!!
before you leave, have you DONATE TO PALESTINE today? ITS FREE TOO !!
662 notes · View notes
jeanbie · 1 month
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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 lips 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.
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thepersonnamedsam · 11 months
Note
you already know how much I love gen z driver! could you maybe write something of how would it be if gen z reader’s birthday happened to be during one of the gp’s? how everyone acts and makes it all about her?
happy birthday!
pairing: the genz!driver x '23!grid
summary: it’s the genz!drivers birthday, and it just happens to be the miami gp!
word count: 1.7k
warnings: some swear words and some google translated spanish and dutch :)
note: oh i just love all of your request, especially that one, bc i’m a birthday lover myself! have fun reading it and feel free to request more!! <3
masterlist/ taglist
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The first people to congratulate her, were her parents. They called her, in the middle of the night; they forgot that time zones exist. But her heart was full when she picked up the phone at 3AM and both of her parents where singing ‚happy birthday‘ to her. What wasn’t so good, was that she had to be asleep, because it was a Sunday and race day! But it didn’t matter, it was her birthday!
Two hours later, her phone was ringing again, but this time not because someone was wishing her a happy birthday, no, it was her alarm. But today it was okay. 5AM on your birthday doesn’t feel that early, does it now? At least it didn’t for her.
Andy, her personal trainer, knocked on her door at exactly 6.30AM, holding a tiny cupcake with a candle in it. „Happy birthday, y/n!“, his voice cheerful and happy. Her smiled widened and her heart full with love again. „Thank you, Andy.“
„Are you ready for the race?“, Andy asked her. She nodded and closed her hotel door. „I’m excited to see Danny again and Nando and all the other people of course. Oh and definitely Lewis.“, Birthdays were her thing, she always missed them in school, either she had them on a weekend or she was on holiday. So, being surrounded by people who are important to her, was the best present she could’ve gotten.
On the way to the paddock, Andy let her pick out the music, her car playlist was blasting on full volume. Tongue Tied by GROUPLOVE was her favourite song at the moment, that’s why she was singing at the top of her lungs to the lyrics.
„Take me to your best friends house, go around this roundabout, oh yeah“, she looked at Andy as if he would follow the orders of the song.
The music died down, as they arrived at the paddock. Press was already waiting on her, they knew it was her special day and hoped to get some good footage of the birthday-girl. Usually the media annoyed her this early in the morning, but today, nothing could’ve ruined her day. She smiled and waved to the camera, spoke to some press people and had nice conversations with all of them.
The media always tried to find some gossip, especially on the young driver, but not today. They were happy to see her this happy.
As she set foot on the paddock, people were congratulating her. Pads on the back, some strokes on her arm here and there, everyone was nice to her, and who doesn’t enjoy some attention sometimes. Especially if it’s for something you didn’t work for. It was her favourite day of the year, Christmas is second.
„Danny!“, she shrieked as soon as she saw him. She sprinted towards the Australian and jumped into his arms. „I missed you so bad!“ Daniel just laughed and hugged the young driver. „Happy birthday, y/n.“
Her smile was consistent and contagious, every person she smiled at, they just had to smile back. Even Max smiled at her. Well, he always smiled at her, she was one of the persons that could make him smile.
„Max, can you give me a piggyback ride?“, she looked at him with puppy dog eyes and he just couldn’t deny her. „Of course, zus sister.“
As Martin Brundle spotted the two, he motioned to his cameraman to put the focus on them. „And now we see Max Verstappen carrying the birthday girl y/n. It is not rare to see the young driver interact with the different drivers. Let’s wish her a happy birthday“, he talked into the camera. „Hello you two, happy birthday y/n, am I the first to congratulate?“, the older man looked at her with an amusing look on his face. „Martin, as much as I love you, you are hopefully not the first person to wish me a happy birthday“, she looked at him with a serious face.
„Did Max congratulate yet?“, a challenging look on Martins face, he pointed at the camera and said: „Remember, this is a livestream.“, Max‘ cheeks turned a pretty pink colour and y/n gasped. „He did not!“, she gasped. „Max, you didn’t wish me a happy birthday?!“ - „I’m sorry, schat darling. Happy birthday, my dear.“
But how could she hold a grudge against a face that looked like Sid from Ice Age?
Fernando was the next person she saw, and he instantly grinned at her. „Oh Nando, do you know whose special day it is today?“, she singsang to the oldest driver on the grid. „Hmm, let me guess, is it Roscoes?“, he laughed as he saw her shocked face. „How could you, I thought we were friends?“ - „We are, we are, cariño darling. Feliz cumpleaños happy birthday, y/n.“
„How old are you now, 5?“, he laughed at her. „Har har, very funny Nando. How old are you turning this year, 60?“ She was always getting irritated fast. He grabbed her by her hip and pushed her into a side hug of his. „Don’t ever change, cariño.“
„Don’t have a plan for that, who’d change something as fabulous like this“, her hands were pointing to herself. „But on a serious note, Nando, do you know where Lewis is? I’ve been searching for him.“ Fernando only shook his head, he didn’t know where the British driver was. He rubbed over her hair as she left his side to search for her mentor.
„Oh Lewis! Your favourite person is looking for you“, she shouted over the paddock, with no luck. She didn’t even see a trace of Lew, none. But what she did find, was a monegasque driver with the number 16 and a spaniard driving under the number 55. They were arguing over some bullshit, as always, as they spotted her. „y/n! Over here“, Charles shouted over to her and waved his hand. She ran over to them and greeted the older drivers with a side hug. Carlos quickly kissed her head as he wished her a brilliant birthday. Charles even sang the first to lines of the song.
She was a bit embarrassed, but she enjoyed the attention of the two Ferrari drivers. „I love you guys, but have you seen Lewis?“, she smiled at the two as they rolled their eyes. She just wanted to see her favourite person on the paddock. She loved them all equally, but you couldn’t deny that Lewis definitely was her favourite. „I think I saw him at Mercedes, his motorhome“, Charles told her, she totally missed the sarcastic undertone of his and just skipped along to the Mercedes garage.
Before she even set a foot in the motorhome, Toto Wolff approached her and squished her into a hug. „Alles gute zum Geburtstag, liebes! Happy birthday, darling! How are you, so happy to see you“, he whispered into her ear. She loved Toto. „Hi Toto!“, she grinned up at him, „I’m good, thank you. Do you know where Lewis is?“ Toto laughed and pointed to his drivers room. „Thanks!“, she yelled as she took off.
She hasn’t been to her own motorhome, just wandering around the paddock and taking in all the attention from the others. And as she knocked on the door, she knew she’d receive the best attention of them all.
„It’s open“, she heard and busted into the tiny room. „Hello, your favourite human on this planet has arrived and will be gracing your presence from now on!“ She grinned at him and he only laughed and embraced the girl. „I have a present for the birthday girl? do you know where she is“, he joked and turned around to grab her present. „A present? Aw Lewis, you shouldn’t have, you totally should have.“
The present contained some gag gifts, such as a Mercedes hat and shirt, or some shirts with funny pattern on it. But the original present was a necklace. It wasn’t anything special, really. It was a simple silver necklace with a tiny turtle as a pendant. Her eyes were tearing up, so she quickly wiped them away.
„Is this one of the necklaces that makes you a godparent of a sea turtle?“ - „It sure is, have fun with“ he turned the pendant around and looked at the engraving on it „Yertle. He is now your godchild“, he smiled at her and motioned to y/n to turn around, so he could put the necklace on. „Thank you so much, it means a lot“, she hugged him as a thank you. He smiled at her, he adored the young driver and was grateful that he was apart of her journey.
„Thank you, love you Lewis!“, she yelled to him as she sprinted out of the motorhome. She was finally headed to her own garage. They had planned a surprise party for her and Lewis was the distraction. As she reached her motorhome, she didn’t see anyone. „Hello, is it not race day?“, she joked into the dark.
„Happy birthday, y/n!“
She jumped, her heart was racing, but she had a giant smile on her face. Her heart, once again, was full, full with love.
„Ahh, thank you guys!“, she squealed and sprinted into the engineers and mechanics, just like she won a race, which she hasn’t, by the way. She hugged all of them, thanked all and smiled the biggest smile she ever smiled. „I’m so grateful for all of you! And now, let’s win this race!“
She didn’t win, but was one of her best birthdays so far. And the after party was her personal highlight of the day. There was a huge pile of presents, just for her of course.
Lando was the DJ, Max was standing on a table, preparing to do a toast for her and Danny was laughing and pointing his camera at everybody.
The evening was definitely something she’d remember, maybe not Max‘ toast, as it was very embarrassing;
„Dear people, we have gathered here to celebrate not only my win, but also a birthday of some special person. She is not our girlfriend, which we are all happy about, but they’re all jealous of her, y/n! Happy birthday, you beast, come up here!“
The alcohol definitely made it more bearable, but the fact that Pierre had to drag you to Mac spoke for itself.
„Pierre, let me be, go back to your boyfriend“, she spoke harshly to the French man, but he ignored her with a smirk on his face and brought her up to Max.
„Ladys and gents, the birthday girl herself!“
It was one of the better party’s she attended and when she looked at all the posts she’s been tagged, she found one particular that she liked the most.
daniel3.jpg
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Liked by yninsta, charles_leclerc and 473’827 others
daniel3.jpg happy birthday to my personal favourite female driver of all time! let’s raise a glass or two, to all the things i’ve lost on you ;)
View all 4638 comments
yninsta i am the only female driver…
landonorris that’s why your his fav
yninsta rude af
daniel3.jpg don’t fight kids
charles_leclerc happy birthday y/n!
carlossainz55 yeah, feliz compleaños to our fav girl
pierregasly liked by pierre gasly
f1girly we love all the drivers in the comments, y/n is definitely the paddock princess
likedbypear oh yes, idk if i want to be her or with her
yninsta be definitely with me, c’mon
neymarjr happy birthday y/n!
°°°
taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21
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Text
I am honestly so happy with Buck/Tommy. Not because I don't want Buddie endgame anymore - that's still my dream. But because the payoff will be so much richer (and honestly more believable for the casual fan) than if they go from "straight" to bi Buck to Buddie in a few episodes.
And so far, Tommy's character is GREAT! He has chemistry with both Eddie & Buck and based on his delivery of "MY attention?" he seems to be the most aware of the potential for Buddie out of the three of them. So yeah he's gonna take the opportunity to kiss Buck when it's offered (who wouldn't??) and probably a lot more than that and he's gonna be able to walk Buck through this new thing with some confidence so that if/when Buddie does come about, it can be more about the emotions.
They've honestly set him up to potentially be Eddie's queer guru as well - or even just given us someone who Eddie can talk about on screen about Buck, which has been rare in the past. And since Tommy seems aware of the Buck/Eddie of it all from the beginning, I'm hopeful he won't be the love interest who has to put on a brave face while being tossed aside for no reason in favor of the main pairing (a trope I hate) but rather he can be like "yeah I always knew this was coming but I wanted to have some fun in the meantime".
Also now that they confirmed Season 8, I want it to be slowwwww. I want everyone in the 911 universe to be rooting for them before they're even fully aware. I want every fan, not just the tumblr buddie community, to be screaming at their TV "JUST KISS ALREADY" every time Buddie is on screen. And then when they finally do, we can all die happy :) because love is love and these two deserve each other in the best way possible.
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themorningsunshine · 1 year
Text
I like me better when I am with you
Masterlist
Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Summary - Bucky isn't in love with you, nope, not at all, not even a bit, that doesn't mean he has to like that man who is shamelessly drooling over you.
Warnings - Fluff, Bucky’s internal thoughts, jealousy
Word count - 2.8k
a/n - I had so much fun writing this.
Bucky’s internal monologue is in italic.
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Stark parties were his least favourite. They always consisted of the same kind of people. Bucky didn't have to remember their faces to know that. They were all the same. Rich people with money much more than they could handle, spend it in the worst and the dumbest way possible. No, really, why the hell would they get their already filthy expensive phone coated with gold? And don't even get him started on when he had heard a man complaining that Tony hadn't put 'perfectly squared ice cubes' worth 300$ each in their drinks. Hell, he had somehow started respecting Tony's choices and that man was currently wearing a 100,000$ suit.
But these parties were never this unbearable. He always used to have company. He still has Steve sitting beside him and don't get him wrong, Steve is his best friend but there's a limit as to how much Bucky can hear that man complain about the new recruits.
"Can't believe Tony was able to do that. That man has got brains. Only if he was not so arrogant. Don't you think, Buck?"
His name slipping from Steve's mouth makes him look at his best friend who has been talking to him for .... well, a long time. He didn't even know when he switched topics.
Bucky never really zones out. He is a great listener but today, something else has caught his attention completely. Something which keeps bugging him and he doesn't even understand why.
Steve sighs as he realises just how much his best friend has been listening to him. "You know, Sam is right, you do have a staring problem."
"No, I don't," Bucky says in a way that makes it look like that's the most absurd and offensive thing he has ever heard.
Steve chuckles and says, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."
Bucky gives out a sarcastic chuckle. After everything he has been through, there is nothing in a hundred-mile radius of this party that could remotely hurt him. "I am just fine, Steve. Why would I be hurt?" He doesn't say he is good, or great, he says 'just fine' 'cause that's his default setting. To be just fine. He is rarely ever more than that.
No, you are, when you are with her. His inner thoughts whisper to him. He shakes his head to get that thought away as if it had offended him too.
Steve gives him a small smile and nods his head towards a direction that Bucky has been not so subtly staring at for the past half an hour.
And there you are. In all your glory. In the beautiful, simple, golden outfit you are wearing, sipping on your drink in the most gentle way possible. The colour golden suits you, Bucky thinks.
That's what you said when she was wearing blue. A person can look good in 2 colours. Then what about green and - Shut up.
He looks at you again and notices the thing that has been bugging him. You're still talking to him. The man with the too smooth suit and the too silky hair and the too gentle words and the - ... God, he hates that man. And he has reasons for it. Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit? Doesn't he have any other colour to wear? And who the hell drinks non-alcoholic drinks when at a Stark party? And then Bucky remembers you telling him once that you hated the smell of alcohol. That you couldn't stand within a metre radius of the people who had drunk a lot. But, that man doesn't know that.
You are still smiling at him and talking. But, that's okay. You love to talk. You could spend hours talking about the movie you just saw or the book you just read. That's nothing. And smiling, well you smile at everything. That's your default setting. To find beauty in everything and give it the most beautiful and genuine smile he has ever seen. You can really find the good in everything.
Maybe that's why she is friends with you.
That's not the point. You even smile at strays. And that's who the man is, a stray, a wild, animal.
Cannot be wilder than you. Or did you forget who you are, Buck?
Bucky doesn't like these thoughts. They tend to come back to him in crowded places. When there are too many people staring at him, talking about him. You always used to be there with him. Making fun of all these rich people and their etiquette.
The both of you would mostly escape from the party early, especially when you were done with what you actually came here for, which was always food. He had to agree. Tony did know how to throw a good party.
You would sneak him into the mini theatre and would watch the silliest movies, just to laugh at their absurdity. Or you would just take him to the roof and the both of you sat there, stargazing and talking. You were really a good friend of his.
Friend? Friends don't glare holes into the back of the man they're just talking to.
This man had approached you at the start of the party and hadn't left your side. Clingy. Rich, coming from you.
You didn't owe Bucky anything. You didn't sign a contract that you had to spend all these parties with him. No, it wasn't any of that. That doesn't mean it couldn't hurt.
"Buck, why don't you just tell her?" For a second, Bucky is taken aback. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still sitting there. What had happened to his super soldier skills?
Too busy gaping at her I remember asking you to shut up And I remember telling you not to fall in love with her
Bucky clears his throat at the last comment by his inner conscience. Sometimes, it acted weird.
"Tell who, what, Steve?" Bucky feigns nonchalance as if he has no idea what Steve is talking about.
Steve chuckles. "How many hers do you have in your life, Buck?" Noone. Just her.
Bucky is sure he is going crazy. Maybe he has had too much to drink. You haven't touched alcohol. Oh, I wonder why that is.
"I know many people who use that pronoun, punk. Nat, Wanda, Sharon, Maria, many shield agents, Carol, oh and yeah... y/n. You have to be more specific" Well done
"Fine, I will be more specific. How many 'hers' do you stare at?" "None." He replies, a little too fast and Steve gives him a knowing smirk. And there it goes...
"I am not staring at anyone, Steve." He gives him a pointed look. "Whatever sails your boat, Buck. But I'd recommend talking to her before it's too late."
Before it's too late
That sentence echoes in his ears. He didn't want to lose you. Not to the annoying guy who had still not left your side, not to the shield agent who always insisted on training with you whenever he got the chance, not to anyone. He didn't want to lose you. Never.
How can you lose someone who isn't even yours? This time his inner voice is gentle, pleading as if it is silently begging him to do something.
Before he even knows what he's doing, Bucky is out of his chair and walking towards the bar.
You chuckle at something the man says before you notice Bucky walking towards the both of you and your smile gets wider.
"Hey, doll." He greets you, completely ignoring the man standing a couple of feet away.
: "Hey, Buck. Please tell me Steve didn't talk your ear out about work." You say with a chuckle. Of course, you had noticed Bucky talking to Steve, your eyes tended to look for his even in a room full of hundreds.
Bucky just lets out a chuckle, shrugging, already feeling much at ease now that he was with you.
A clearing of throat brings both of your attention back to the man standing beside you.
"Gosh, I am sorry. Bucky, this is Todd. Todd Williams. You remember the law firm Tony was talking about the other day?"
Bucky just nods his head, least interested in who this man was.
"He is the owner." You introduce him to Bucky with a polite smile on your face and Bucky wants to rip this man's head off. Even though he just knows his name, he is pretty sure he is going to hate him, if he doesn't already.
"Hi, Bucky, I have heard a lot about you." The man brings his hand forward for a handshake and Bucky thinks he will chop off his hand before he shakes it with the man.
"James." He replies with a stern look on his face.
Todd awkwardly takes his hand back and narrows his eyes in confusion.
"My name is James. Only my friends call me Bucky."
You widen your eyes at Bucky. You knew he never liked meeting new people and that he was not really the warmest to strangers, but he was never so.... hostile. If looks could kill, Todd would be six feet under by now.
"It's nice to meet you, James." Todd tries again, now slightly scared of the former winter soldier.
"I wish I could say the same. What are you even doing here?" Bucky asks, annoyed.
"Bucky." You whisper yell his name to remind him how Tony had conducted an emergency meeting to tell everyone that they have to be nicer to the guests. You, then put on a smile before replying for Todd, "He is here for the charity auction. Isn't that nice?"
Bucky squints his eyes at you as if he can't figure out what's so nice about giving your money away for charity.
"That is just an excuse, really," Todd says, in an attempt to break the tension. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful woman." He then looks at you before saying, "Mission accomplished."
You giggle at his words, flustered. You know he is just trying to be nice and not flirty. He had just told you how badly he was missing his wife who was much better at these charity auctions than he was.
What you don't notice is how Bucky's jaws tense and his fists clench. If they were not standing in a room full of so many people, he would have picked the glass from the nearby table and broken it on Todd's head. Tony's warnings are damned.
He instead just says, "Well then, you don't have to stay for the auction. Leave."
Todd nervously chuckles."I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit."
"You should. Tony's parties have the best appetizers." You tell him, desperately trying to make him feel comfortable when there is an ex-assassin who looks like he could slit his throat if given a chance.
"But you know what's better? The exit gate. You should check it out and while you are at it, maybe also get your ass out of here." Bucky says without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.
"Bucky." You gasp. This wasn't funny anymore. "Can I talk to you? In private?"
You give Todd an apologetic smile before holding Bucky's hand to get the hell out of here, without waiting for his response.
Bucky stops for a moment to look at Todd again, "The exit gate is that way. Feel free to use it while we are gone."
You pull him with you and take him towards the nearest balcony, not leaving his hand till you are out in the cold air and can't hear the party from inside.
You let go of him to cross your arms across your chest. "Buck, what the hell do you think you are doing?"
"Showing an annoying joke of a man his place," Bucky replies, without a single ounce of guilt for what he has done.
"Bucky." It's your turn to be upset. "He is a businessman. A rich one. His contribution could be great for the auction. Do you not remember what Tony said?"
"I don't care what Tony says. What is he gonna do with so much money, anyways? Buying some piece of mind?"
"What the hell is wrong with you? Why in the nine realms were you so rude to Todd?" You snapped.
"Oh, so now you call him Todd, huh?"
"That's literally his name."
"It's a very stupid name, okay? But it suits him. A stupid name for a stupid man. In his stupid suit with his stupid money." Bucky rambles, disgusted as if he hasn't heard a worse name in his long life.
"Buck, you are behaving like a 5-year-old now. What's - ?" You stop yourself as an amused grin spreads on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oh, god!!" You place your palm on your mouth before whispering, "Bucky, you - You are jealous."
"No, no I am not, Not even a bit. Nada.Negative. Why would I be?" Bucky shakes his head as if that were a ridiculous thought. Why was everyone getting the most ridiculous ideas today?"
"I would have believed you if you hadn't said no 6 times. You are jealous." Your smile grows wider as you take a step towards him with a pointed look. "You are jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and he called me beautiful and said that I had a pretty smile." "When did he - " Bucky stops himself as he realises the rage in his voice will give him away. He takes a step back and turns away, till he is standing near the railing.
You stand beside him, about to say something, till you look into his eyes. His eyes have a look you have seen before. He is hurt. He is processing a lot of things that he doesn't want to think about. This wasn't amusing anymore. "Hey. I - I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Bucky, I am - "
"I am not jealous, okay?" He now turns and looks directly into your eyes. "I am not. I just don't like it when someone else has your attention. Not because I am jealous, no. But because I am scared." Bucky swallowed thickly. You had seen him vulnerable before when he had nightmares and you were trying to remind him where he was or when memories from his time at hydra hit him with full force. But this was a different kind. It was as if he was laying his soul bare in front of you. Voicing his worst fears.
"I am scared because I don't want anyone else to realise how amazing, smart, funny, kind and just so damn lovable you are. Because then they will steal you from me. I will lose you forever and - and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else. I don't want to lose you." He says the last sentence as if he is begging whatever god will listen to not let his worst fears turn true, to let him have this. Let him have you.
"Tell me, doll. Why am I so scared to lose you when you are not even mine?"
Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him.
Before Bucky knew what was happening, you closed the distance between the both of you. As your lips met his, everything else stood at a standstill.
Bucky was too shocked to respond for a minute. This couldn't be happening. Did you feel the same way about him? How -
All these thoughts turn into nothing until you're the only one comprising his thoughts. And Bucky realises this is how it has been for a long time. It was just you. In his heart and his mind. Your warmth spread through him and captured his soul until it was impossible to separate the two of them.
He kisses you with the same love and gentleness as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer towards him.
When the necessity to breathe arose, you pulled away but still stood close.
"I want to be yours, Buck."
If the kiss had stolen his breath away, your words make his heart beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.
"You don't mean that, doll. You - "
"I do. I do mean that, Buck. I choose you. And I'd always choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd always choose you”
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beetlejuicyy · 5 months
Note
JEALOUS JEALOUS JEALOUS BADA TO THE POINT WHERE SHE IGNORES READER BECAUSE SHES UPSET
Unusual
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Pairing: Bada Lee x reader
Synopsys: you decide it's time to make your girlfriend jealous on purpose
Warnings: none
Notes: sorry for taking this long anon :( hope you enjoy!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Bada wasn’t the jealous type. In the few months you’ve been together, you learned that her cheerful and outgoing personality meant that she didn’t mind most interactions you had with other people. When you would over analyze some words or touches people would give her, pondering whether they were too much or you were actually crazy, she would encourage you to go out and socialize and have fun. You were definitely a black cat and golden retriever dynamic couple.
You, on the other hand, you were very jealous. Most of the time you didn’t even show it, so she only knew about a quarter of the things that annoyed you. But of course you were jealous, when her job was dancing and sometimes she would have to dance with other people, touch other people, match the mood of the song with her moves. And sometimes, the song was sexual and she was so good at it. But so were other dancers.
On many occasions you complained to your friend about it. Bada would give you spoilers and show you the rehearsals, always bubbly and excited about her new project. But when you would watch the final version on YouTube you would feel like choking, your heart aching. It hurt to see her touching other people like she would touch you, because she was so good at it she made it look real.
“She’s not the jealous type ooor are you not giving her any reason to be jealous?” Your friend asked. She had a point indeed. You had been dating for a few months, your friend added, and you were only getting to know each other on a more intimate level. Everything she told you made sense.
Several days after going out with your friend your mind was still preoccupied with that question. Bada gave you many reasons to be jealous. But you rarely did. Of course you’ve never seen her obviously jealous, she had no reason to. You weren’t touchy with other people except her, had only a couple of close friends, always preferred a cozy quiet place and never felt the need to be in the center of attention.  If she ever had experienced the feeling, it was not under any circumstance as bad and as intense as you had felt it many times.
The thought of making your girlfriend jealous was tempting. All that frustration and anger you felt so many times before was not pleasant at all but something inside you wanted to see her like that. You wished she would be more possessive, pay more attention to who and how you were talking, be more needy and show it.
Was it toxic of you? Maybe. Was Bada an amazing girlfriend and you risked to make a big mistake? Perhaps. Would you be even now that she would experience feelings you went through often times? Absolutely.
                                ***
Bada checked the time once again. It was exactly one minute later since the last time she did it. She sighed in exasperation. When you told her you were going out to celebrate that one of your friends quit her toxic job she was excited for you and even helped you pick your outfit. She didn’t expect, however, to be this bored without you.
You would usually text her to let her know you arrived safe, sometimes you would update her with gossip in real time or complain about some people you didn’t like. But you had been very silent for several hours. Not that it was a bad thing. Just unusual.
The first update she had from you was a very risky story, posted on close friends, with the spaghetti straps of your dress off your shoulders and an angle that did justice to your generous cleavage. Bada clicked her tongue out loud in the empty apartment. You looked so good. But who else was on your close friends list? That looked like a picture you would send to her only when you got bored and frisky.
But then again, it wasn’t something bad. Just unusual.
The next couple of stories were public and shared from someone else’s account a couple of hours later. It was a video and some pictures. The video was particularly infuriating. Your girlfriend played it again and again, trying to see who was that girl you were leaning next to so comfortably, being all smiles and giggles. She was obviously masc, with short hair and a sleeve full of tattoos. Bada didn’t recognize her, and she knew all of your friends. The rest of the pictures were just shots and food.
Her first guess was that you were drunk. But you never crossed the line with drinking. The second one was that the girl was straight and you simply felt comfortable. No way, she quickly dismissed the thought after replaying the video five times. That girl was definitely into you.
Without thinking, Bada stood up and got dressed. It was only when she was putting her shoes on that she saw her reflection in the mirror and the thought hit her.
What was she doing?
She always encouraged you to go out with friends. It was a healthy, supportive relationship that you had. What was she planning to do? Storm in there like a rabid man taking his woman back like stolen property? That’s exactly what her instinct was telling her to do.
She breathed in deeply, as if there was not enough air to fill her lungs. Her head was spinning and her heart was burning. What you were doing made no sense to her. She leaned her forehead against the cold glass of the mirror, still debating.
Should she text first?
That’s needy.
Should she call you?
That’s controlling.
Should she go there?
That’s clearly toxic.
But waiting for a sign from you was unbearable. You’ve been gone since 7 and it was almost midnight. A passing thought got her breath stuck in her throat. What if you were going home with that girl?
Bada bit her lower lip in frustration.
Her phone vibrated shortly in her pocket, signaling a new message. With a rapidly beating heart and clumsy hands she took it out hoping it was a sign from you. A good kind.
“Can you come pick me up?”
She sniffed in annoyance. The audacity you had. Flirting with strangers, posting it online and now calling on her like a dog. She was going to pick you up and do much more than that.
                                 ***
You were quite disappointed. When you left the house you didn’t plan to do it tonight, you had to put more thought into the details. But since your friend’s now ex coworker was exactly the type that you would actually chase if you were single, and Bada knew it, you couldn’t help but seize the opportunity.
She was your type aesthetically speaking only. You didn’t click at all and she seemed to notice that you were all flirty and touchy only when there was a camera taking a video or a photo. She confronted you in the bathroom about it but agreed to help you with making your girlfriend jealous nonetheless.
But there was no sign from Bada. Other than the fact that you could see how many times your story had been reviewed, and you knew she was most likely the one to be looking at the video many times to analyze it, you had no idea about her feelings. She didn’t react to your selfie, she didn’t ask anything about the video, she didn’t send any messages or call at all. It seemed to you that she wasn’t bothered at all.
You grew more bored and impatient as the night continued. You kept checking your phone, hoping that she would miss you, doubt you or be mad at you. Nothing. You were defeated. What else could you do? Bada was not the jealous type after all. You had no idea why it hurt that much. Being jealous would mean that she cares, you thought. You wanted her to be frustrated, you wanted her to be on the edge like you had been because of her. But apparently it wasn’t the case.
Admitting your loss, you texted her to pick you up since it was already late but no one else seemed to break the ice and go home first. She responded quickly with few words and nothing more, confirming that she was on her way.
The night was cold but not too dark. The full moon brought a lot of soft silver light outside, which helped you relax a little as you waited for Bada to arrive. You were feeling sad and you hoped that the excuse of being tired would be enough for her not to ask too many questions that night.
The car pulled up across the street and you immediately recognized her large vehicle. It had took her a while to get confident about driving and you always wondered why she chose a car that big in the first place. But now that she had more confidence in her driving you thought that it really fit her. You could see her profile from the distance. She looked… tense? Maybe she was just tired, you thought. You crossed the street but she didn’t turn her head to look at you at all as she quietly waited for you to get in.
It was weird. No hugs, no smiles, no nothing. She mumbled something similar to a greeting in response to your saying hi and started the car quickly. Her lips were pressed firmly against each other, as if trying to conceal words that she didn’t want to let out. Her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, looking straight ahead even though the street was well lighted and empty. One of her elbows rested against the window as Bada single handedly turned the steering wheel, following the directions of the her navigation system.
Then it hit you.
It was like a slap on your cheek. But the kind you liked. She was mad. You turned slightly away from her, in case she could see you grinning like an idiot. She was so mad at you. Looking at her for a brief moment you admired her features. Her eyes were full of anger but she looked so hot.
“Did you have fun without me? I haven’t heard from you all night.” You said, trying to hide the joy in your voice. You were pushing her buttons, trying to see how much she could hold in.
“Mhm.” She only hummed in a low voice.
“You missed the right turn here.” You said, noticing the route was being recalculated. She placed her other hand back on the steering wheel as her right one stretched so she could turn off the navigation. Her hand lingered there for a moment, between your seats.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how it was?” You said, taking her hand and placing it on you thigh. She only side eyed you for a brief moment. Her hand was laying ghostly on your thigh. You wished she would grab it, sink her fingers into your flesh.
“I already know from instagram.” She answered.
“Ah, yes.” You said sheepishly, as if you didn’t understand what she was hinting at. “But you know social media is just a small part of real life.”
“You’re unbelievable.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance. The car stopped at a red light, a few other cars in line in front of you flashing red lights over her chiseled features.
“What did I do?” You asked. She covered her face with both her hands, rubbing her eyes as if trying to wake up. Her hands fell heavily in her lap as she finally looked directly at you.
“You know exactly what.” She said. The traffic light changed to green and she licked her lips nervously, turning back to driving.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You really liked to see her like that. You wondered what words, what tone, what actions were hiding behind those angered eyes, behind those tightly shut lips, behind those hands that were grabbing the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were white. “I just had fun like you always encourage me to do.”
“Fun doesn’t mean seducing other women!” She yelled and you raised your eyebrows in anticipation for her next gesture. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” She sighed.
“I was simply sociable.”
“Yes, sociable, clinging onto that woman’s arm all night long and looking at her with those pleading eyes. Sure, y/n, very sociable of you.” She snapped. You were almost home.
“She was very nice, actually. We were just making conversation.”
“Conversation? Conversation!” She repeated sarcastically after you. “She was undressing you with her eyes  in those 5 seconds I saw only.” She was fuming. Her pitch of her voice turned higher the louder it got but it was very amusing to you. She pulled up in the parking lot of your apartment building, sinking back into her seat. Her tongue was moving inside her mouth, pressing against her cheek as she looked up gathering her thoughts.
You wanted her to take you right there. She was extremely sexy when she was mad and the fact that you got her so worked up intentionally made you feel satisfaction.
“Did you really like her? For real.” She asked. There was a long moment of silence between the two of you, as you contemplated whether to torture her more or just give in to your needs. The more you looked at her long and delicate fingers the clearer you could imagine them around your neck. The more you looked at her biting the corner of her lower lip in frustration the more you wished she would bite yours instead.
“Are you jealous?” You replied with another question. She turned her face to you, looking at you like you asked the most stupid question in the world.
“Am I jealous?” She mocked you, avoiding to give an answer. You looked into her clouded eyes filled with anger, jealousy and annoyance. She never made you feel so horny by simply looking at you before. You leaned in, ready to give in. You missed her all night. She pulled back though, so your lips couldn’t meet hers. “You think you’re getting it your way?” She asked. You blinked at her in surprise. The tips of her fingers touched your jawbone as she grabbed your face rather harshly, pushing your head back to look up at her. “You’ll be begging for me to give it to you for a long while, you little brat.” She breathed against your lips. You could feel yourself getting wet.
748 notes · View notes
ggukiepie · 9 months
Text
one of your girls (jungkook x reader) (part 1)
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we don't gotta be in love, no i don't wanna be the one, no i just wanna be one of your girls tonight ~ i wanna take your light inside dim me down, snuff me out ~ give me tough love leave me with nothin' when i come down
pairing: fwb!jk x oc, brief jimin x oc
tags: smut, angst, a little bit of fluff (like teeny tiny)
warnings: two smut scenes, kissing, marking (hickeys), fingering, brief handjob, protected sex, slight dom!jk, sub!oc, praise, dirty talk, grinding, edging, oral (f. & m. receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, spit kink, brief masturbation (m.), squirting, brief anal play, back shots, cum shot, multiple orgasms (you'll see), aftercare
word count: 5.8k
a/n: been in my feels lately i had to write it out lol; wrote this in one sitting my hands actually hurt omg; inspired by the song "one of your girls" (ik don't roast me idk why it's stuck in my head fml); if this gets taken down then bye bye i literally just wrote it here directly lmaooooo; anw enjoy !!!! part 2 / drabble i (flashback)
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
You knew what you were getting yourself into the night you said yes to Jungkook. You knew you'd fall for him, be under his spell. You knew you'd end up getting hurt. You prepared yourself, you really did, yet you were still surprised when you woke up each morning and he wasn't beside you in bed. You felt your heart break a little bit more when you saw him with another girl, whether she'd be one of your friends or a complete stranger to you.
You tried to guard your heart. Reminded yourself to prepare for the worst. Forced yourself not to fall, not to be blindsided. I'm just having a little fun, you told yourself for the nth time.
jk: u busy tonight?
you: not really! just writing a paper that's due next week
That was sent hours ago and you mentally cringe at your reply. You always find yourself oversharing to Jungkook when you didn't even need to. You wanted to make it seem like your whole situationship was just casual. Like you didn't care. He rarely shared much about his personal life and so should you. But that hardly happened. You didn't want him to think that you cared, that you were clingy or waiting for him to text. You didn't even wait five minutes before replying and he hasn't even texted back.
You know what his text means. He wants to fuck and that's it. But he doesn't say it outright. No, never. He wants to make it seem like he cares, that he wants to know how your night is going. But he just wants to know if you're free to fuck and once you reply, he'll keep that as a reminder in the back of his mind, like he has a mental list of girls he can sort through at the end of the night when he's bored or when he wants to have a little bit of fun.
You know you're just one of his girls on his roster and you're fine with that. You're not his girlfriend and he's not your boyfriend. Though it does seem like that on some days, which is when you get the courage to not reply to his texts. When you try to shut him out and move on. He usually shows up outside your lecture hall with a cup of coffee in hand, bunny smile on his face as he waits for you to walk into the hallway. Like he's waiting for you, picking you up from class like a good and loving boyfriend.
It's all for show and it's only to get himself on your good side again. It works every time. You don't question yourself anymore. Jungkook likes the chase, likes the adrenaline of going after girls and trying to get them to fall for him, or sleep with him, or whatever. It's all the same to him.
You sigh again as you check your phone, hoping for a reply but knowing he won't text back. It's a Friday night and he's probably at some party. You go through your texts and open the conversation with your best friend.
jihyo: see u later! im picking u up so u better be ready >:(
You can't help but laugh at her insistence. Jihyo knows what you're going through since you tell her everything. You tell her you don't care though, that you're not looking for a relationship right now and your "thing" with Jungkook is just casual. But you know she sees right through your lies. It's even more obvious when you ghost all your friends and lock yourself in your apartment every night. She's trying to make you forget and move on and have some actual fun so you indulge her every time.
You get ready in less than an hour and actually put some effort into your appearance. You're not sure which party you're going to but you won't be surprised if Jungkook will be there as well. Maybe if you look hot enough he'll choose you tonight.
You hear a knock on your door and open it immediately, finding Jihyo laughing at something her boyfriend has just said. Most of the time you end up hanging out with her and Mingyu because she's always dragging you with her to keep you from being lonely. You don't mind it though because they're fun people to be with. Even though Mingyu is Jungkook's roommate and best friend. But Mingyu isn't anything like Jungkook. He looks at Jihyo like she's hung up the stars and moon. Loves her with all his heart and doesn't leave her second guessing. You always wonder why him and Jungkook are friends when they're so different.
Jihyo turns to smile at you, but it's still the lovestruck smile she gave Mingyu just seconds ago. You know you have the same kind of smile reserved for Jungkook. You wish you didn't but at the same time you're glad you do, like you have a part of yourself only Jungkook can see. Even though he doesn't do the same.
"You look so hot tonight!" she squeals as she pulls you in a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes, making eye contact with Mingyu as he nods his head in greeting. Jihyo steps back and grabs your hand, dragging you out your apartment so fast you barely have time to lock the door behind you. "Let's go before all the good drinks are gone."
It's a short but fun walk to the house where the party is being held. You find yourself laughing with Jihyo and Mingyu the whole time. They're the type of couple that doesn't make third wheeling a bore.
Loud music blares in your ears the moment you step inside. You feel your heels sticking to the floor. A typical frat house throwing a typical Friday night party. You immediately take shots with Jihyo and Mingyu. You need it to be able to survive the night since you already feel yourself tensing up at the possibility of Jungkook being in the same place as you.
You spot your other friends and hangout with them for the rest of the night. It's when you're playing beer pong with Jimin as your partner do you see Jungkook at the other side of the room. He's talking to some girl which is nothing new. It shouldn't phase you but it does. You thought you were going to be his pick for the night since he texted you a while ago.
You feel your heart fall at the sight of them, your chest physically hurting that you make Jimin throw the ball twice for the both of you since you can't focus. You feel all the fun and happiness slowly leave your body. You feel your stomach churn at the way he's got her trapped against the wall, tattooed arm placed beside her head, mouth whispering right against her ear. She's smiling and giggling at whatever Jungkook is telling her. You wish that were you.
"Forget about him," Jimin mutters in your ear. He's watching your beer pong opponents take their turn as you're watching Jungkook and the girl.
You shake your head at Jimin, turning your head to smile at him just to make it seem like you're okay. Just like Jihyo, he sees right through you.
Jimin's another close friend of Jungkook. They're not so different. Jimin likes to sleep around but he makes it clear that he doesn't want anything serious. Always nice and gentle with the girls he sleeps with. Jungkook makes it seem like you're his and only his. You wonder again why they're friends.
"Seriously, Y/N," Jimin says, a little bit of urgency in his tone. It's probably the look of longing on your face that raises concern in your friend. Everyone sees how broken you look when you catch Jungkook with another girl.
"I know," you say after a while. You talk just a little bit loud enough to be heard over the music. "Jungkook and I just sleep with each other. It's casual and that's it."
You hear Jimin sigh. He nods his head and it's his turn to throw the dirty ping pong ball. You've had this conversation with him and Jihyo numerous times already, sometimes it's the both of them and sometimes it's on separate occasions. You say the same thing every time. You think your friends are starting to give up on you. Maybe you should as well.
You force yourself to have fun for the rest of the night, always trying to be in a room where Jungkook isn't. You're not sure if he's spotted you. You don't know which hurts more—him not spotting you because he doesn't even bother looking for you in the crowd, or him spotting you but not talking to you because you're not his choice for the night. Either way, he doesn't care. You know he doesn't but you wish you did. You thought you'd catch his attention with the black dress you're wearing. Or with the way your hair is styled. But it doesn't work and you tell yourself that it's okay. You always see him in your peripheral though, either talking to someone or flirting with that girl.
You decide to leave when you see Jungkook leaving as well, fingers tangled with the girl's. She looks like a giggling mess and you can't blame her. Everyone falls for Jungkook's charms. You try not to dwell on the fact that they're going to have sex.
It's Jimin who walks you home. He can tell you're sad so he talks about his day and his classes, avoiding Jungkook's name even though you're positive that they hung out today. Jungkook's intertwined in so many people's lives it's hard to leave him out. But Jimin makes an effort just to distract you. You're grateful for it though and he keeps up the act all the way to your apartment. He asks if he can use your bathroom and you say yes, mindlessly changing into your pajamas once the bathroom door closes behind you. You thought you'd have a little bit more time to finish changing but you suddenly hear Jimin swear behind you. You live in a little studio apartment so there's not much room to hide.
"Oh fuck— Shit," he says. You turn around laughing to see him with his hand over his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbles.
You're in your underwear but you don't mind. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before," you chuckle.
"Still," he reasons.
Because you're stupid and heartbroken and hurt, you walk up to Jimin and gently grab his wrist, bringing his arm down to his side. You look at him looking at anywhere else but you. Eventually he looks down at your body for a split second and you laugh at him.
"We shouldn't," he whispers.
You shrug your shoulders. "Just a little bit of fun, right?" you ask with a smile on your face. "Like old times?" you giggle.
Jimin lets out a scoff but it's more of a laugh. Like he can't believe you're both doing this again. "You sure you're not drunk?" he asks as he makes eye contact with you. Bingo. You got him.
"Nope," you say sweetly.
"But Jungkook?"
You roll your eyes to mask the hurt. "Don't care."
Jimin looks at you intently to make sure you're not bluffing. While you wait for his answer you unclasp your bra and let it fall down your shoulders, exposing yourself to him. His eyes widen at the sight.
"Okay," he breathes out. He suddenly holds you by the waist to place you on the kitchen counter. It has you giggling at him.
"Eager?" you ask when he starts kissing your neck. You feel him drag his teeth across your skin, like he's thinking if he should mark you up or not. You stretch your neck out even more and feel him biting at your skin, sure to leave a bruise.
"Just excited," he mumbles against your neck. You feel him smile.
You unzip his pants while he's busy sucking your nipples. He's hard already when you start pumping your hand up and down his cock.
"Feels good, baby," he moans in your ear. You're still wearing your underwear but Jimin doesn't mind, just pushes it to the side to insert two of his fingers inside your pussy.
"Oh," you choke out. He finds your spot right away and rubs his fingers against it. He doesn't make you come, just fingers you to make sure you're prepped. It's quick when he takes his fingers out and grabs the condom in the back pocket of his jeans. You watch him tear the packet open and roll the condom down his length.
You both don't say anything else as he pushes his cock past your tight walls. Doesn't give you a moment before he starts pounding, his skin slapping against yours.
It's always like this with Jimin—just quick and easy and no feelings attached. You both don't do it much, it happens at the most random times. Usually when you want to forget or when he's stressed from school. And after this you're both back to being friends. It's never awkward. You wish it were like this with Jungkook instead.
"Jimin," you moan when he starts rubbing your clit. "Gonna come."
"Go ahead, baby," he breathes out, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and leaving his lips there. You push yourself to release and Jimin follows right after. You're both breathing heavily when he pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the bin. He zips up his pants and starts looking for something on your bed. You're still trying to catch your breath when you feel a shirt being put over your head. Jimin's sweet like this—does aftercare in the most platonic way possible.
"There," he says after helping you wear the shirt he found. He doesn't know it belongs to Jungkook. You don't think he minds if he does though.
"Thank you," you say quietly and give him a small smile.
"Anytime. I'll see you around, okay?" He kisses your forehead and you watch him leave your apartment.
The silence engulfs you and you think you should feel disgusted with yourself—that you're pining over a guy but you just had sex with another. With his close friend out of all people. But you push the thought to the back of your mind as you jump down from the kitchen counter and walk into your bathroom. You're just like Jungkook, you tell yourself. Just casually sleeping around and nothing else. He doesn't care and you don't either. You feel a teeny bit better.
You take a warm shower to wash all the remnants from tonight. You actually take your time just to clear your jumbled up mind. It's almost 30 minutes later when you step out and check your phone while you're drying off, heartbeat stopping at a text you've received almost an hour ago.
jk: u up?
jk: hey reply to me :(
jk: coming over
Your eyes widen at the last text. It was sent just 10 minutes ago. You don't know where he's coming from but the campus isn't that big so he'll probably be here soon. You quickly finish drying off and change into comfortable clothes. You hear a knock on the door the moment you finish changing. You take a deep breath before walking to the door and opening it.
You notice Jungkook's wearing the same clothes from the party but his shirt is a bit wrinkled. You think he just came from the girl's place. Probably fucked her and is here now because he's not satisfied. You should feel disgusted and mad but you're not. You're no better. You just slept with his friend.
"Hi," you mutter.
He smiles at you and leans in to kiss you on the lips. "Hey, sweetheart." It has you swooning.
You step to the side to let him in and he walks straight to your bed, sitting down to take off his shoes before lying down comfortably. You follow him and sit down on your bed right by his waist. He stretches out his arm to drape it over your thighs and you start tracing his tattoos absentmindedly. This is your usual routine.
"Did you stay in all night?" he asks. Just a little bit of conversation before he does what he's really here for. At least he has a little bit of decency. You don't mind though, it makes you think that he cares about you when he asks things like this.
You shake your head and smile at him. "Nah, Jihyo and Mingyu dragged me to that frat party." You can tell he's trying to hide his surprise.
"Oh, I didn't see you there," he mumbles.
"It's okay." You shrug. "There were a lot of people."
"We could've played beer pong together, I know you like doing that every time you're out."
Your heart clenches at his remark. You're surprised and hurt every time he remembers little things about you. "I was with Jimin, don't worry." Jungkook doesn't know the double meaning to it.
He nods and runs his fingers across your thighs. "Missed you. Sorry I didn't reply to your text earlier, got caught up in something." You know that's a lie. "Just got back from the party too, that's why I came here late." Another lie.
You nod and smile as if you believe him. And you force yourself to because it's easier than knowing the truth. It's silent for a moment before he mumbles c'mere and brings you on top of his lap.
"Missed this," he says quietly as he squeezes your thighs. His hands trail up your waist till he's squeezing your tits beneath the shirt you're wearing. You start grinding on his cock, getting out of breath too quickly. You missed this too. It's been a week since you last had sex with Jungkook which is a long time for the both of you.
"Kook," you pant. He's pinching your nipples knowing that's where you're most sensitive.
"I know, sweetheart. Take your shirt off for me, hm?"
You nod your head dumbly and do as you're told, watching Jungkook stare at your body. He stops moving beneath you and you're about to ask what's wrong when he brings his hand up to touch the hickey on your neck that Jimin left.
"Who's this from?" he asks. You can't tell if he's mad or just curious. Jungkook isn't showing any emotions on his face and you're starting to get nervous.
"Just..." You think if you should tell him the truth. You look into his eyes and try to see if there's any semblance of care. You don't know. You really can't tell. Then your eyes trails down his body, to his neck and the wrinkly white shirt he's wearing. There's a red stain on the collar and you know it's lipstick. From the girl he slept with earlier. "Someone," you finally mumble.
"Someone?" He continues rubbing the spot gently until he presses down on it with his thumb. He doesn't press down too hard, but it's with enough force to have you hissing slightly.
"It's from Jimin," you finally say. He doesn't say anything but raise an eyebrow at your reply. You don't know if he already knows that you and Jimin have slept together. He doesn't look so surprised, or maybe he is and he's just really good at schooling his expressions.
He makes eye contact with you again and you feel his hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair to press your lips against his. The kiss feels urgent and rushed, his tongue instantly slipping in your mouth and tangling with yours. You're on top of him yet you feel defenseless as he holds you by your hair and kisses you hard. You let Jungkook do as he pleases and forget about the little conversation you just had. You start grinding on his cock again and he reciprocates this time, hips moving against yours.
Before you know it, he rolls you over and pins your arms above your head. You stare at him with wide eyes and he smirks at you in return. He holds your wrists with one hand and takes off your shorts and underwear with the other. He's fully dressed while you're not and you know you're at his mercy. He knows this too as he spreads your thighs apart with his hand.
"Keep your hands there," he whispers. You hold your bed frame for good measure. You just want to please him. He trails kisses down your body, from your neck to your nipples to your tummy. He stops by your thighs and you feel his breath against your skin. You squirm beneath Jungkook to get him to do something, to touch you and pleasure you. He shakes his head, still with that damn smirk on his face. He starts kissing your thighs, close to your pussy just to tease you.
"Didn't know you and Jimin have a thing going on," he says against your skin. You shiver at the vibrations his voice provides.
You feel Jungkook bite down on your inner thighs. "We don't," you choke out. He scoffs and starts kissing your pussy. Just light kisses that start making you crazy because you just want his mouth on you. "We're just friends," you say weakly.
He looks up from where he's laying between your legs. "Like us?"
Us.
You know what he means but at the same time you don't. You're friends with Jimin like you're friends with Jungkook. But you don't long for Jimin like you do for Jungkook. You don't yearn for Jimin the same way, don't look for him in every place you're at, don't pine for his affection or his touches. Jimin isn't like Jungkook and you both know that. You just don't know if you're different from the other girls Jungkook fucks.
"No," you say truthfully. It's said with defeat and desperation because you know he's not going to touch you till you answer him. "Not like us."
You know Jungkook won't pry anymore because he finally starts licking your pussy, starting with your outer lips until his tongue is inside your hole licking every crevice. Then he starts sucking your clit and that's when you truly lose it, legs going around his head to keep him against your cunt.
"Fuck," you almost scream. You're so close already that you should feel embarrassed but you're not. Jungkook knows your body too well. No one holds a candle to how good he eats you out. "Please," you whimper.
"Please what, sweetheart?"
"Please make me come!" you beg. "Need it, need it so much." You starting grinding your hips against his mouth.
"You're so desperate," he chuckles. It's said meanly but the comment flies over your head. You don't care anymore; you just want some sort of release. "But not yet."
You suddenly feel cold because Jungkook removes his mouth from you, standing up and getting out of the bed to remove his clothing. You continue holding the bed frame above you because you want to be good for him. You watch him strip his clothes off till he's naked just like you, tattooed hand wrapping around his cock.
It's long and thick and it splits you open every time he fucks you. You really don't know how you manage to take him every time.
Jungkook is so mean and unfair with the way he's teasing you right now, pleasuring himself while you lay on the bed. You're about to open your mouth to complain when he finally nods his head, motioning you to get up. "Kneel. Hands behind your back, okay?"
You nod your head and get in position on the bed, head tilting up to look at his cock. It's so hard and the tip is already leaking. You just want your mouth around him.
"Open," he says.
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, just the way Jungkook likes. As expected, he spits directly into your mouth and you swallow right away.
"Good girl. Now suck."
He brings his cock to your lips and you immediately start sucking. You push your length all the way in till you feel him at the back of your throat.
"Gotta take all of me in, pretty. Or else I won't fuck your little pussy."
You know Jungkook takes his threats seriously so you back up a little to catch your breath before taking him in your mouth again. God, he's so big and thick your jaw is already starting to feel sore. But you power through and keep taking him in your mouth until your nose touches his tummy. You try not to gag around him but it's no use. You also feels your eyes tearing up.
Jungkook doesn't care you're struggling. In fact, he loves it because he's got that stupidly handsome smile on his face. He strokes your cheeks for a while and you try to even out your breathing.
"I wanna fuck your throat, sweetheart. Can you take it?" he asks sweetly.
You know it's a rhetorical question but you nod anyways, as much as you could with a dick down your throat.
"Let me in then."
You close your eyes and relax your throat even more. Jungkook holds your head then and pushes you towards him even deeper. You're helpless since your hands are behind your back. You gag again and start feeling lightheaded.
"There we go," he finally says once his whole length is in your mouth. You feel the tip down your throat. You're struggling so much but you try not to move. You just want to please him. "Gonna move now," he mumbles and starts moving his hips. You let him fuck your throat for God knows how long. You're full on crying when he stops and withdraws his length halfway out your mouth. You take the time to gasp for air and you even cough a little, head bowing down to regain your breathing. You faintly hear Jungkook laugh above you.
"I'm not yet done, love. Was just feeling nice enough to give you a little breather."
You nod your head and look up at him, mouth opening wide to let him know you're ready again.
"You just let me do whatever I want, huh?" he chuckles. You're not sure if he means something else but to you it does. You willingly let Jungkook do anything to you. Even if it results in heartbreak.
He stares at you for a while and spreads the spit and precum that's on your lips. "So messy." Then he's back to inserting his length inside your mouth. The glide is smoother this time since you're already prepped. "There we go," he groans out. He stays still and feels the imprint of his dick on your throat. "Look so pretty for me."
Jungkook starts moving again but thankfully his pace is slow this time. You're sure you'll have a sore throat by tomorrow.
"Keep your eyes open, okay? Wanna see you cry."
You look at him while he's fucking your mouth, looking at the way his cock moves in your throat. You're starting to lose your breath and you think Jungkook could tell as well because he grants you reprieve and steps back. You're coughing more this time, hands catching yourself in front of you. You barely get enough time to regain your breathing before you feel Jungkook grabbing your head and bringing your lips to his.
"Did so good for me," he says against your mouth.
You're trembling in his hold and you grab his arms to steady yourself. "Fuck me please," you try to say but your voice comes out hoarse and ragged.
He kisses your cheek and then your jaw. "I will, don't worry," he coos. "Always gonna give you what you want." Another lie. You know that's not true.
You're putty in his hands as he maneuvers you to the position he wants to fuck you in, which is on your hands and knees with your ass high in the air.
"Just like that," he whispers. He pushes down on your shoulders even more so that you're wide and open for him. He starts rubbing your pussy and you can't help but moan out loud. "You're so wet, sweetheart. All from sucking my cock?"
You nod wordlessly from your position on the bed. "Jungkook!" you scream as he plunges two fingers in your pussy. He's ruthless as he fucks his fingers fast and hard, hitting your g-spot right away. "Please," you cry out. You're so wound up and tense and you just want to come already but he won't let you.
You hear Jungkook chuckle from behind you. "Still so tight, baby. Thought Jimin stretched you out already." You're about to reply but you feel his thumb press against your rim and your senses go haywire, mind going blank because you're so overwhelmed.
"Please, please," you beg quietly. You're crying again and you'd do anything at this point to get Jungkook to fuck you. He withdraws his fingers from your holes and you hear the crinkling of plastic behind you. You turn your head slightly to see him slipping a condom on. Jungkook has never fucked you raw and you never asked why because you already know the answer. You'll get hurt hearing the truth anyway.
He holds your hips to steady you. He rubs the head of his cock up and down your folds. "You want this?" he asks roughly.
"Yes. Please."
Finally, finally, Jungkook pushes his cock in your pussy. It doesn't take long because you're so wet he slides right in to the hilt.
"You feel so good around me." He stills for a moment and you grab your ass to spread your cheeks even more.
"Please move, Kook."
You hear him groan. "God, baby, you're filthy." He starts fucking into you and your mind goes blank. You feel his thick cock slide in and out, the tip already kissing your cervix.
"Feels so good," you mumble incoherently. Jungkook fucks you quick and hard, holding your hips so tightly you know it's going to bruise. You feel his balls slap against your clit which adds even more pleasure. You feel yourself getting close again and arch your back.
"Can I please come?" you ask through your moans. "Please let me come, Jungkook. Please—"
"Come," he finally says. It's the only word you need to hear before you let go, that coil in you snapping and bringing pleasure all over your body. You don't know you're moaning so loudly you're almost screaming. You feel your pussy just gush and it gets so wet and sticky you're surprised Jungkook doesn't slip out. It's so filthy that you hear squelching noises as well. Your orgasm goes on for so long you don't know how you're still holding yourself up.
"You creamed my cock so much, baby," Jungkook says. He slows down his pace but he's still moving so you can ride out your high. "Got me wet and even your sheets."
You barely hear him and there's just a buzzing sound around your head. Your body feels so heavy and you just want to collapse but you arch your back even more for Jungkook.
He laughs. "Think I fucked you stupid." He increases his pace again and you just kneel there and take it. "Gonna make me fucking come," he growls as his hips snap against yours. "Fuck." He fucks you some more and you groan every time he hits your g-spot.
Suddenly, he pulls out so fast. "Don't move," he groans. You stay in place and watch him remove the condom off, hand going to stroke his cock as he brings himself to his release. You feel his come on you, right on your pussy and asshole. "Fuck, baby," he groans. You feel even stickier with his load on you. Then he bends down to kiss your neck, and then your cheek, and then a gentle one on your lips.
"You okay?" he asks quietly. His arm goes to wrap around your waist and you slowly start sinking onto the bed.
"Mhm," you mumble and try to keep your emotions at bay. You always feel so overwhelmed after sex with Jungkook. You let a few tears fall down your cheeks but it's the kind of tears of relief from an intense orgasm.
Jungkook presses his front against your back, not caring that his come is still on you. He starts kissing your face again then rubs his nose up and down your throat. "Just breathe, yeah?" he says quietly. You nod weakly against his hold and do just that. The both of you say nothing as you try to calm your racing heart.
You don't know how many minutes pass by until Jungkook stands up. You don't have the strength in you to move your position on the bed or ask where he's going. A few minutes later you feel a wet rag on your back. You let Jungkook clean you up while the both of you still don't say a thing. Then he's moving you on the bed again so your head is on the pillows and he's right behind you, lying down comfortably to be the big spoon. You feel him kissing your head.
"Sleep," he mumbles against your hair. With Jungkook holding you and with his steady breaths guiding yours, you fall asleep right away.
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
You don't know what time it is when you wake up but there's still sunlight peeking through your curtains so you suppose it's still morning. You turn to face the other side of the bed only to find it empty. You don't know what time Jungkook left, if he stayed the night or left the moment you fell asleep. You're used to it already but it doesn't mean you're not hurt. Your heart constricts at the empty space beside you. You move again to lay on your back and cover your face with yours hands, letting out shaky breaths while trying not to breakdown. God, maybe Jimin was right. Just forget about him.
But it's hard not to. It's hard to forget about him when you have sex constantly, when his touches are gentle but also rough. When he wants you to reply to his messages and when he wants you against his body. It's hard because he's friends with your friends. It's hard when he takes care of you after every intense orgasm. It's hard when he makes it seem like he wants you just as much as you want him.
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angelltheninth · 4 months
Note
how about arcane x reader with how they act when there drunk?
(I imagine Vi to be quite the flirt lol)
Please and thank you!
Oh boy, yeah, I bet they would all be fun in their own way.
Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Silco, Vander, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, drinking alcohol, flirting, cuddles, teasing, literal sleeping together, headache
A/N: I'm really tired today so I'll make this one quick. I really hope it's just a cold.
Jinx is a really happy drunk. If you think she's hyperactive when she's sober then you haven't seen anything yet. You can hardly keep up with the things that she's talking about and they begin to get less and less understandable. The only way to get her to stop is to kiss her.
Vi does get very flirty with you after a few drinks. Usually she's more of a woman of actions then words but she really loosens up with her feelings when she's drunk. She has nothing but compliments to give you, even as her eyes drift closed she needs to tell you she loves you.
Caitlyn will get a lot more touchy with you. She calls you her darling at the end of every sentence like she wants to make sure everyone gets that you're together. As if the many kisses you've shared weren't enough of a message to them.
Ekko is a huge cuddler when he drinks. He will wrap his arms around you and keep you close against him, absentmindedly kissing your neck. There's nowhere he would rather be right now then holding you against him, slightly buzzed but really happy.
Silco lets himself fall asleep on your shoulder when he gets drunk. But just because he's asleep doesn't mean he's ready to let you go just yet. One of his arms still has a hold on you, keeping you by his side until he wakes up, reacting to every forehead kiss with a smile.
Vander actually starts singing when he's drunk. He has a nice voice too but he would never take that compliment without getting drunk first. That's why everyone really looks forward to him at any kind of celebration, it's always loud with him around.
Sevika can't stop kissing you when she gets drunk. Won't let anything stop her in her quest of making you breathless, not even you telling her she needs to sleep this off. Yes, her headache will be horrible the next day, but a kiss can fix that too.
Viktor doesn't drink that often actually but when he does he goes off on a million different tirades. He changes topics way too quickly too, laughing every time he manages to confuse you. He also talks about how lucky he is to have you in his life, so happy.
Jayce insists that he can carry you to bed while he's drunk. Although he ends up tripping over his own feet and the both of you fall down, very ungracefully. He won't let that get in the way of his kisses, but he does fall asleep fairly quickly so you're left cuddling with him.
Mel only drinks at celebrations and even then she rarely gets drunk, she has a reputation to keep after all. When she does get drunk she can get very openly affectionate, so much so that you have to lead her away because you can't handle her teasing without kissing her.
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achenetype · 2 months
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Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷
OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts
edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god
i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
word count: 2.8k
content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury
listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell
You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.
Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.
But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."
He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.
Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.
Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."
You nod, but stay quiet.
He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"
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When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.
"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"
"Sure," you said. "Super fun."
And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.
And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.
Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."
"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.
You hated that look.
"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."
You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.
Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.
"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.
She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.
"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."
She scoffed.
You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.
You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.
Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.
That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.
"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.
Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."
"Then why do you do it," you asked.
When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."
"Did you fight with Dad?"
Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."
You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"
She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."
The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.
"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"
She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.
Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."
She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."
"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"
She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"
At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.
“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”
“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 
She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”
It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 
And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 
And you never saw her again.
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“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.
He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.
You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 
“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”
“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.
The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.
“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”
Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”
You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”
Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 
“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.
You raise an eyebrow. “This?”
He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”
You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 
You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.
Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.
He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.
Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 
Almost.
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“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”
A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 
“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 
Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?
Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.
Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.
You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—
—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—
—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—
—and three, Luke was right.
Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 
When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.
“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”
You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 
“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”
Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”
You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 
His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?
You smiled and nodded.
Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.
He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.
“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.
You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.
He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 
Of course he remembers.
You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”
The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.
In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”
You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 
“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 
Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”
You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?
“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”
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“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”
You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.
It’s almost time.
Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 
“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.
Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 
“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.
You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”
Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”
“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.
“Are you scared?”
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It’s your birthday. 
You think you’re going to die. 
Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 
“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”
You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 
You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”
“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 
You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.
“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.
Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”
He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.
Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—
“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”
He freezes. “What?”
You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”
Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”
“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”
Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 
“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”
You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”
Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.
He’s crying. Why is he—
“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”
Your eyes slip shut.
I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.
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