#he begins to think this is going to be something he’ll be doing a lot of stumbling over himself to keep up with you. so cute !!!

[violetcamryn]

HTTYD NSFW ALPHABET - Snotlout Jorgenson (live action ver.)

Snotlout Jorgenson (live action version) x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+)

AN: For the sake of this post and all future HTTYD posts, Snotlout is at LEAST 18 years old (in my mind, he is early 20’s) . Wrote this because there is not nearly enough content out there for live action Snotlout (or even Snotlout x reader in general). Also darn you Gabriel Howell for re-igniting my HTTYD & Snotlout obsession

A = Aftercare: The KING of aftercare. He’ll run you a hot shower, then hop in with you and help you wash off. All while massaging your shoulders like his life depends on it. Then he’ll tuck you into bed and crawl in with you for the night.

B = Body Part (their favourite on you & on themselves): On himself, it’s his arms (shoulders included). He loves to flex in the mirror and flex to you anytime he gets. You definitely don’t mind though, because he is actually pretty built. On you, it’s your thighs. He loves to rest his head in your lap when you’re alone together, and he’ll just trace meaningless lines up and down your thighs with his fingers. He especially loves when you play with his hair as he’s laying in your lap. He’d never let anybody else see him this vulnerable, but you’re the exception.

C = Cum: INSIDE. I think this man might have a breeding kink…he absolutely loves hitting it raw.

D = Dirty Secret: He likes to be on the bottom every once in a while. He really enjoys when you’re on top, he’ll be looking up at you during sex with those big puppy dog eyes and just letting himself enjoy the moment. He also would not mind if you tied his hands up to experiment, he’s just not confident enough to ask for it yet. None of this is really a secret between the two of you, but it is most certainly a secret to everyone else.

E = Experience: He’s slightly experienced. He used to get around in his mid-to-late-teen years but he didn’t enjoy it much. He sort of saw it as a right-of-passage thing, but when he started dating you things really started to heat up. He’s learned quite a few tricks since you started having sex and he’s a very skilled man now.

F = Favourite Position: If he’s on top, d0ggy. He loves being able to grab your hips and waist while you’re getting it on, and plus he can get a better grip of your hair from behind (🤭). If he’s on the bottom, literally anything. He does not complain. He’s just happy to be there.

G = Goofy: Absolutely goofy at the right times. Definitely not all the time, but he lets a joke go every now and then. He enjoys it when you banter back to him too, it keeps him from worrying that he’s being TOO goofy.

H = Hair:

1) Upstairs He’s a hair puller. He doesn’t like his hair to be pulled, but you both enjoy it when he pulls yours. He would never do it if you weren’t comfortable though, but he knows you love it. However, he does love when you play with his hair after y’all are done having sex. The feeling of your fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp just does something to him.

2) Downstairs He keeps himself well groomed. Not necessarily clean-shaven but he likes it neat and tidy. He doesn’t care whatsoever about what you do with yours, he’s just happy to feel the touch of a woman.

I = Intimacy: He loves when it’s just the two of you in his room, curled up under the blankets, talking late at night. He cherishes those moments with his whole heart. It was hard for him to open up at the beginning, but you’ve slowly chipped away at his walls and now talking to you might just be his favourite thing. He also loves when you two have slow and intimate sex. When you spend time just feeling each-other and not rushing to the finish line.

J = Jerking Off: He used to (a LOT) before you started dating. But now he doesn’t see the point when he’s got such a beautiful girl. He’ll only ever do it if you’re away for a long period of time on some sort of mission. But it’s never the same and he always wishes it was you instead of his hand.

K = Kinks: PRAISE KINK. The moment you call him a “good boy” or tell him how good he makes you feel, he’s in heaven. He thrives on words of affirmation and affection.

L = Location: Anytime, anywhere, except in public. He will always be ready for whenever you want him. He won’t do anything in a public place (because that requires letting his guard down in front of people who aren’t YOU), but any private location he can find, you best believe y’all have fucked there before. His secret location fantasy would be in a secluded hot spring.

M = Motivation: When he sees you after a long day of dragon training, he is immediately in the mood. I mean when is he not in the mood? This man is down bad for his girl.

N = No’s: He will never hit you, even if you ask, it’s a hard line in the sand for him. He also would never be comfortable with having sex in a public space.

O = Oral:

Receiving He’s into it if you’re into it. He would never want to pressure you into doing something you weren’t comfortable with, but now that he knows YOU enjoy it, he’s all for it. Gets him turned on just thinking about it.

Giving This man is a MUNCH. I cannot see him any other way. He is down bad for his woman and will give and give to your hearts content.

P = Pace: Slow and sensual, or fast and furious. There is no in between for him. It really depends on both of your moods. Some days the only thing he wants is some slow intimacy, and there’s other times where he fucks like a mad man. He will be sure to cater to your wants and desires first and foremost though.

Q = Quickies: Depends. If he’s stressed out and needs to let the feelings out, he is absolutely into it. But most of the time he likes to take his time with you and not rush through. And honestly it’s hard to find a place in Berk that’s appropriately hidden for a quickie.

R = Risks: He is totally into experimenting with you, as long as it’s not one of his “no’s”. But role-play or restraints? Absolutely something he wants to try out.

S = Stamina: He can go multiple rounds most days, but there are some times where he’s just so exhausted from the days work that he’ll go one round, clean you both up, and fall right asleep. It’s not his fault you’re so nice to lay next to, he can’t help that he falls asleep so quickly.

T = Toys: N/A (we’re in viking times people, i’m not introducing medieval torture devices)

U = Unfair: Snotlout is a total tease. He’ll grab your ass in public when he thinks nobody’s looking, and he knows you love it. During sex he’ll ask you dirty questions when he knows you can’t focus enough to answer, just to show himself how good he’s making you feel. However you are also quite the tease. You’ll get him all turned on at an inconvenient time, and you’ll watch him try to focus on the task he was previously doing (and failing miserably now, because all he can think about is you).

V = Vocal: WHINY. I just know this man is vocal and whiny in bed. Deep breathing, grunting, begging, the works. Now that he’s comfortable with you, he makes plenty of noise. He loves when you make noise in bed too, it really turns him on and gives him motivation.

W = Wild Card: He gets wildly jealous when you’re sitting close with any of the other guys. Not like a toxic level of jealousy, just enough that it makes him squirm. Even though he knows neither you nor any of the boys would betray him like that. He’ll always find a way to squeeze in to the conversation and make it about how he’s big and tough (you think it’s hilarious).

X = X-Ray: Above average size in both length and width. Cut. Keeps it well groomed. Safe to say he’s around 8 inches.

Y = Yearning: A secret yearner. He’ll write poems to you and keep them in his journal, never to see the light of day. He wrote so many that he had to get another journal after only a month. He’ll also draw candid sketches of you when you go on dates, and he’ll hesitantly show them to you once he’s finished. You are always sure to praise his drawings every chance you get because they’re actually spectacular. Deep down, he’s always been a romantic. He’d be sure to show you off every chance he got.

Z = Zzz: If you’re playing with his hair, he’s out cold in 5 minutes flat. He used to have a lot of trouble sleeping but not since you two got together. Now he sleeps like a baby (as long as you’re sharing a bed).

Hope you enjoyed! I’m still VERY new to writing smut so i hope this wasn’t too bad or too much. Feel free to leave feedback in the comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗

PS. Snotlout is just a big ol’ softie in my mind. A softie with a hard outer shell. But he’s adorable. A lot of fluff in this post but hopefully there was also enough smut to please y’all 😚 i’ll make GN!reader and M!reader versions eventually too

[yushi-ni]

ot6 how they act in an argument please🙏🏽😋

ෆ NCT WISH ෆ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ masterlist

summary; NCT WISH and arguments ꨄ how they act in arguments - small fights as your bf.

warnings; mentions of things that could be viewed as rude - little toxicity. this is purely for entertainment purposes so don’t take it too serious!!!

notes; hi anon!!! 🧚🏻🧚🏻🧚🏻 here’s this hahahaha!!! hope you like this one, i didn’t proofread so if sentences seem a little out of place or vague.. i’m sorry!!! i tried but sometimes it just doesn’t work out the way i want it to so please bare with me hahahaha enjoy it!!!!

──୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──

oh sion

ᯓ ok sion is a petty one ngl. depending on the seriousness of the situation. he will have different reactions. couples fight, so you two have your own issues too every now and then. most of the time it’s just small fights that don’t really get to a point of conflict. but sometimes… mr oh sion has this little attitude that makes it a little harder to forgive and forget. ngl he has this little ego problem that can make him look super arrogant. not one to give in or accept your opinion because it’s not necessarily the truth just because you (you) feel this way.

ᯓ sometimes there’s these little moments when one reacts out of frustration, it’s a human emotion so it’s not always in our control. sion definitely has a lot of built up emotions - frustration, not necessarily towards you but also work related. so at times this results in his response being so strong even though the matter itself was not a big issue to begin with. sometimes you can understand, you can see the bigger picture of the situation and just let it slide. you know he doesn’t mean it as a personal attack towards you. but other days, you’re more heated about a certain thing so his reaction triggered the wrong emotion in you as well. then it’s fire against fire and both of you are stubborn, so no one is going to give in

ᯓ sion won’t always see when he’s in the wrong. he’s very understanding when you speak your mind but when it’s directly towards him or something involving him he has a hard time getting past his own thoughts. and he’ll let you know too. he’s not a mean person, not at all, he’s just very blunt and selfish with certain things. sometimes his words leave his mouth before his mind can comprehend and think about a proper response. his facial expressions are also very strong, raised eyebrows, narrowing his eyes, tilting his head etc etc. he’s easily ‘offended’ so goes straight into self defence. sometimes he will just stare at you and not even say anything, just a chuckle out of disbelief. won’t ever intentionally hurt you so when it gets a little too heated - serious he will give you your space, just like you do to him and when he calmed down or when he has had some time to think about it he’ll come find you and ‘try’ to talk about it.

maeda riku

ᯓ riku is a very kind and warm person. he’s brought up in a loving house and is super close with his sister and mother. out of all wishies he might be the most understanding when it comes to women and their ‘issues’. fights don’t really happen, yes you have moments of mutual frustration or one sided as well, but it never goes as far as a fight. whenever there’s something that bothers him, he’ll come to you. sometimes he’ll need a little time to get his own thoughts clear and he might need a little push in the back from sion but he will always try and communicate with you. he doesn’t want to argue or be upset with you

ᯓ if you’re upset with him, for whatever reason, his first reaction might be to deny mostly out of self defence. not in a; ‘no wtf are you on about’ but he needs a little moment to let it sink in yk what i mean?? because as understanding as he is, he’s not perfect or a robot. he has his own feelings so if you confront him with something he needs your words to reach his mind before he can actually talk to you about it. sometimes this might make him look uninterested or as if he’s not taking you seriously but he’s really just thinking and trying to make sure he understands what you’re telling him.

ᯓ he’ll never leave the house or part ways with you if you’re not on one line. he will give you all the space you need…; from the other side of the wall… in the same apartment!!!! no matter if you were in the wrong or if it was his fault; most of the time it’s him coming to you to apologise and make up again. he just can’t stand the thought of being mad or upset with someone, especially not with you. ngl he’s a very emotional guy so it’s not unlikely that some tears flow down his face

tokuno yushi

ᯓ mmmh yushi can lowkey be a little pain in the ass when it comes to arguments. it’s not like he enjoys fighting with you, not at all but he’s not always the cute - sweet guy (usually he is ok!!!) same with sion it depends on the situation and the actual cause of the problem but if it’s something coming from his own frustration, so something that you might have done or said, he will not hold back. he’s not straight up mean, but his words can be harsh and direct.. which is a huge contrast to his usual kind personality. he’s the type of person to react out of anger and emotions, his frustration getting the best of him. picture dramatic hands brushing through his hair, deep sighs, stone cold face etc etc

ᯓ if there’s a situation where you confront him about something his face will show his reaction before any words leave his mouth. if it’s just something small, he can let it slide but if he feels ‘uncomfortable’ or attacked he won’t really be able to see the bigger picture but in that moment his first instinct is to defend himself and even turn the tables back on you. i think out of all of them he has the hardest time with confrontation. but that’s just in the moment itself. he is blunt and too direct with his words so it comes out a lot harsher than he initially wants.

ᯓ when the heat of the ‘conflict’ is over and he had some time to think about what happened, he will definitely come to terms with the fact that he might have ‘overreacted’. if he thinks he was at fault, he will try to talk to you and make up. he doesn’t like fighting with you because who likes fighting with someone they love? but he needs some time to calm down again. and so do you, if after some time you feel like you could have approached it better, you will say sorry and tell him how you feel. fights won’t linger for long because you don’t want to be mad at each other, you don’t want to go to bed upset and avoid the other out of pettiness. you just need to hear each other out and peace will come again

kim jaehee

ᯓ he’s honestly very mature. very understanding and a good listener when it comes to things like this. but (!) even prince jaehee can get a little hot headed sometimes.. but to just go with the first part first; he doesn’t like arguments and will do everything in his power to avoid getting in fights with you. if something is bothering you, you are always free to talk to him and voice out your thoughts. he will listen and hear you out and will speak his own mind too. 9/10 times arguments can be avoided with simple communication and mutual respect!!! same goes with the times jaehee wants to point out something that you did. you’ll listen to what he has to say and then talk about it together so both of you can understand the other’s point of view

ᯓ but there’s these rare occasions where jaehee feels stronger emotions that are harder to control. he doesn’t get jealous easily but one of the things that can bother him so much is how (in his words and eyes) you can be so obnoxious to other people’s behaviour and intentions. you’re just too kind and might be a little bit of a people pleaser and that drives him insane sometimes. it comes from a good place in his heart, he doesn’t want people to take advantage of you and your kindness but he can get very mad when you don’t seem to even realise. so the only times fights with jaehee can get more serious is when it’s about you and his protectiveness.

ᯓ whenever those situations do occur, you just need a little moment to think. be alone and let your mind wander about the things that have been said. you know his love for you goes beyond anything so you also know he only wants the best for you. he will give you the space you need but it won’t take long before he comes into your room to talk about it. this time in a calm and peaceful manner, you both had the needed time and space and now you can make up and go back to normal. because neither of you like to see the other upset ofc

hiroshe ryo

ᯓ buckle up girl now our little ryo here definitely knows what he is right and wrong (in his eyes) he is not the type to get mad mad, he won’t raise his voice in an angry way or whatever but he is SO whiny. not in a ‘awww what a cutie’ way (he whines in a cute way too but obviously not whenever he’s frustrated or upset) no no no he will whine and complain about it over and over again. if something happens he will not hold back and immediately go into a whole rant. gets so defensive even tho there was no reason to. will voice out whatever is bothering him and answers his own questions in the same sentence. lowkey strays off of the whole issue itself as his mind just races

ᯓ big fights don’t happen often but sometimes you do get in a stupid yes or no battle and none of you want to let go of it first. he is young so he’s still ‘learning’ about the importance of communication and understanding. in the heat of the moment he can only focus on being in the right and it’s only after the situation dies down he is able to see the bigger picture. ryo can come across as a little bit of a gaslighter, not in a way that he gets toxic and mean (!!!) but he will unintentionally switch your words and make you feel like you’re in the wrong and it is your fault that you’re fighting right now

ᯓ just as quickly as that little head of his gets all worked up and bursts out, it’s also gone again. he’s very into the moment itself so he can easily brush it off again and go back to normal. as soon as the words are said it’s ok and he can just go on like nothing happened. sometimes that’s ok with you, if it was something unserious or just not worth getting upset about you can just let it be but sometimes it is not that easy to ignore and you can’t be all fun and happy since it lowkey hurt your feelings. in those moments you will silently approach your bf and try to voice out your thoughts. he might not even realise he upset you so he will definitely try to make it up to you and obviously apologises for making you feel bad.

fujinaga sakuya

ᯓ i don’t think sakuya is one to get bothered by something quickly. yes there might be things that you do that he doesn’t really understand or see the purpose of it but he’s more of a; ‘you do you’ type of guy. there’s no reason to fight, in his opinion, if you accept him and he accepts you then what more is there to do?? and even when there are things that can cause a little passage of words, it’s never serious enough that it will keep him up at night. as long as you talked about it, it’s all good.

ᯓ one thing saku does tho, whether that’s to you, ryo or sion, is that he is very quick with his response. it almost seems as if he has an answer ready at any given moment. you point out something and in an instant he fired back, not necessarily a bad thing but it can come across a little more rude than he intended to. he can get a little sulky tho, not one to be mad at you for stupid things but boi can he sulk. he can’t hide his feelings for you so you can always tell when he’s not feeling it. but if you ask him about it he won’t give you a clear answer. just some mumbling, pouty lips and all. he can’t stay (or wants) to feel upset with you so even if he gets in his feels for a little bit he will quickly find his way back to his senses and apologises for behaving a little bit out of place

ᯓ in general saku is very easy going so fights just don’t really happen, which is a good thing ofc. he also doesn’t see an issue with voicing out his discomfort towards you about things that happened or possible scenarios that could happen. so he might come across as a little blunt whenever he just blurts out what’s on his mind but you know it’s never with any bad intentions. so you can easily communicate and talk your way through the situation (10 points for bf saku!!!)

[astarions-world]

I have been getting so emotional thinking about this scene. I haven’t even reached it in my own play through yet (hopefully soon, I’m just leaving Act 1) but I’ve seen many videos about it and it just makes me emotional every time.

Astarion and Hugs

Larian did such a good job portraying what trauma would be like for someone like Astarion (and with other characters too as well). They had to have consulted a psychologist right? I’m not a psychologist but I just wanted to look at all the little details of this scene that really show you just how hurt Astarion really is.

This is the first scene in which he truly opens up with romanced Tav. He takes off his mask, he gets rid of his “seduction” act and he decides to be vulnerable with you, which is probably scary for him. It’s interesting to me because when he asks to talk to you and you reject him, he’ll break things off with you, which tells you this is very important to him.

He genuinely expresses remorse and guilt for what he did to Tav. He starts it off by saying he “feels awful”. Obviously he’s realizing what he’s been doing is not cool and he feels bad about it and wants to be honest with Tav, because he’s starting to genuinely care about them.

He opens up about how he wants them to be something real but he doesn’t know what real looks like after he spent 200 years faking it. One of the options is to hug him. I love this option.

I mean look at the trauma behind those eyes during the hug. This is a man who has been used and abused for 200 years. He’s so unsure at first. This is a man who has never seen a lick of kindness or love shown to him for 200 years. Who’s to say he even knows what a hug is? When Tav begins to hug him, he’s unsure, confused, and doesn’t know what’s going on.

When he realizes it’s a hug, and that it’s being shown as an act of love and care towards him, and it’s not a gesture meant to hurt him, he returns the hug, still unsure of what to do but feeling reassured that he is loved.

I mean, how sad is that? This man has never had anyone hug him or even express love and care like that for 200 years. It takes a huge toll on a person and it’s very in character for a traumatized person (especially if violence was involved in the trauma, which seems like it was the case for Cazador) to be unsure at first of gestures like hugs. I believe later in the game (correct me if I’m wrong cuz I haven’t gotten that far yet) there are certain scenes where he hugs you and it’s plain to see that he appreciates them more now.

I just wanna jump through the screen and give this man a hug irl during this scene. It’s weird that I’m getting so emotional over pixels on a screen but Neil did such a good job bringing Astarion to life and portraying a man who has been through a lot of “pure shit” in his unlife.

The story of Astarion becoming loved and cared for for the first time in his unlife is so beautiful to me. And he slowly learns to care about someone else too. A lot of people criticize him for being selfish in the beginning of the game and cruel but it makes sense to me. Cruelty is all that was ever shown to him for 200 years, but once he starts to see that people can be kind, he starts being kind to others as well, in the best way he knows how.

Now, excuse me while I go cry over a fictional man.

[boobxrry0]

Here’s a list of HCs for Amphoreus college AU. Warning there’s a lot below the cut

Phainon

- Who is his roommate you ask? None other than Mydeimos. Who else??

- He used to use a skateboard all the time in Highschool, but he doesn’t use it that much anymore so it just kinda. Stays in the corner of his dorm (yes this is a sk8 reference. Sue me)

- He came out as bisexual about a month after first year started. who was surprised? …No one.

- Doing bullshit nonsense competitions at 2 am with Mydei, and they get noise complaints all the time.

- He leaves his hair on the shower wall. Mydei yells at him for it.

- Been trying to learn piano since 5ever. They own a keyboard that is currently collecting dust in the living room.

- When Mydei leaves to take care of his library, Phainon tries to bake something. It usually ends up being terrible. I mean it. Black crisp over the top of that thing type shit.

- Forgets to wash rice.

- Whenever he actually sits down and tries to study, he gets distracted on his laptop. It got so bad Aglaea had to literally yank it away from him and now he’s not allowed to have a laptop. Even at the dorms

- ^ Ever since then he’s been actually doing better in his classes

Mydei

- Cooks basically every night for Phainon, but if he’s being a little bitch he’ll order him shitty food and then makes something for himself.

- ^ This got so bad he just started cooking for him again. Because nobody in college has the time or money for that

- He plays electric guitar! If they go anywhere and there’s a guitar of any kind, he’ll just sit down and start playing something.

- Mydei tried skating. He was not good at it.

- He works for his mom and dad at the family owned library occasionally. It’s quick money, really. He genuinely thinks he’s gonna take over full time. If Eurypon and Gorgo don’t mind.

- Phainon tried convincing Mydei to get an odd tattoo. He did not speak to Phainon the rest of the day.

Tribbios

- A professor!

- Literally the best history professor you could ask for. Ain’t nobody failing her class because she’s that good of a professor.

- Super fun. Breaks in her class constantly, fun stuff at the beginning of class. Etc.

- Genuinely cares for others

- Surprisingly old??? She taught Prof. Aglaea when she was in college. Which wasn’t that long ago but still!

- She loved teaching. And her subject.

- Sometimes goes into other classes and everybody cheers. Typically she goes into Aglaea’s class.

- Sometimes her younger sisters will come visit the class. Everyone is surprised by how young they are, considering Tribios’ age.

Tribbie/Trinnon/Trianne (whatt!)

- They’re not in college! Um…

- Tribbio’s younger sisters

- Triplets

- Chaos Co.

- All of them are super observant. Sometimes they go up to people in class and point blank “You look like you’re struggling with your love life. Remember communication is key!” (They get a lot of their advice was watching/listening to Tribbios)

- Trinnon in specific has really good intuition. When someone is about to walk onto the road, she’s grab the nearest piece of cloth/their hand and say “wait” and the next second a car going a kjadraillon miles per hour will rush by. People have cried and hugged this girl for saving their life.

- Tribbie has a keen eye for lies and truth. Tribbios has never been able to lie around her. No one has. She will just huff and say “don’t deceive me.” (Tribios said that one time. ONE TIME to a person and now Tribbie uses it all the time.)

- Trianne will literally encourage people to take the first step. And then she will remember everything and makes sure she sees it to the end. She doesn’t know why. She likes watching over people, and then if they ask to help she will gladly do so!

- They all collectively write/draw on walls.

Castorice

- Good grades in everything. Everything.

- She and Polyxia are inseparable. You will never see them apart.

- If Polyxia is sick she will stay home until she feels better. Take care of her.

- Physical touch.

- “it may be my last year but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try hard.”

Polyxia (?!?!???!)

- Everyone sees her and immediately thinks she’s just a ghost.

- She is the one who cooks. Castorice helps occasionally.

Aglaea

- Yes, she teaches fashion design. And yes, she also teaches debate. So what?

- chill when it comes to debate. Fashion design? Absolute critic. Gordon Ramsey of fashion design.

-Literally the newest professor. Used to be a student not too long ago. But she’s already highly respected as a teacher.

-There’s some rumors going around about her relationship with Prof Anaxa….

- She addressed said rumors. Turns out they’re exes!

Anaxagoras

- We already know he’s a Professor.

- Math (Calculus) and Science (theoretical physics & Astronomy)

- There’s already so much about him and his teaching style and it’s all canon here.

- Yes this includes the gun

- ^ Insert the video of the Choir teacher with the nerf gun except its kids answering questions.

- “THEY GOT GINA!” Vine

- Extra thing, people keep commenting about his eyepatch. He has never addressed it. And he never will (it was something stupid)

Cipher

- Absolute troublemaker.

- Falls asleep in class even if she was right on time.

- Struggles with money.

- Kleptomaniac

Hyacine

- Volunteers for everything. Everything.

- Training to be a doctor

- Tries to help the teachers as much as possible.

- She sometimes brings little Ica to the campus. A lot of people gather around.

Probably going to add a bunch of stuff later when we get more info on Hysilens/Cerydra!

[urinarythreatinfection]

Surprise

Shanks x Fem Reader. Smut. 2704 words. Male vers

Desc: You plan a little surprise for your bummed lover.

cw: Lingerie, public-ish sex. unprotected sex. p in v.

You and Shanks don’t get all the time in the world to be able to go on dates, even if pirates are considered to be free. Sure, he has his own treasurer and other crewmates to take care of tedious paperwork, but there are still things that only a Yonko with multiple islands and fleets can do. Managing the crew’s morale, not being far from them, not staying on one island for too long, managing the fleets, avoiding other Yonkos’ territories while moving islands; all of it adds up to a real huge hassle. Now with the new generation there are younger, cockier pirates that try to challenge him too. Even more to manage, which is how the two of you and your date plans got ruined. A young cocky pirate snuck onto one of his territories and caused havoc. Luckily there was a fleet stationed there to avoid casualties but they managed to escape. That means your plans have been cancelled. He’s starting to get really jealous of Luffy and his single crew. The small solace is that the kid will have to learn some responsibility if he really ends up as pirate king, even Roger begrudgingly did in his short time. It’s all been such a bummer for Shanks, and you’ve noticed it as you sail. So what have you decided to do about it?

‘...Maybe this is a bad idea.’ You think to yourself as you stare at the lingerie on the bed. Since your date has been cancelled you’ve decided to try something new, something especially exciting to make up for the ruined plans. You know your husband is very receptive to you, adores you, and is really open to trying… new things; so you came up with a plan. You’ll accompany him to the island meeting, which’ll cheer him up on its own, but you’ll give him a surprise. Lingerie under your clothes and a small vibrator hidden inside you, sending him a risque photo in the middle of the meeting. However, this might be too much even for him. You pick up your little camera snail and the photo snail. You’re starting to get nervous. ‘What if he thinks I went too far and I put him in an even worse mood?’ Your worries tell you. You swat them away. No, you will do this. It’ll be fun seeing how Shanks will react and if he does like it he’ll definitely like it a lot. Plus you already have everything ready. Your eyes trail to the little egg vibrator that'll soon be inside you, feeling your face heat up as you feel the ship come to a stop. You’ve docked. It’s time.

_____________________

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Shanks tells you as the two of you walk. “It’s not gonna be interesting. It’ll just be about threatening the enemies to back off, make an example, and that’s it. It’s mostly to reassure them.”

“I know you’re not looking forward to it, though. You’ve been bummed since we had to leave to come here. Just thought me being here would give you some motivation.” As you expected he brightens and a happy smile forms on his face as he wraps his arm around you.

“You spoil me, doll.” He kisses the side of your head. “And I’m sorry we had to leave, I know you were looking forward to our date too.” The island you were at has an amusement park the both of you were excited for, but his responsibilities have to come first. People’s lives are involved.

“Oh well, it’s simply how things ended up.” You adjust your bag with a sigh as the two of you arrive, walking inside and into the meeting room. The others are already here, brightening when they spot Shanks.

“Chief!” They surround him, glad that he came. There’s the sound of someone clearing their throat, the governor.

“Settle down, the meeting will begin.” At her words the rest of the workers sit back down. The two of you sit next to each other. You were slightly hoping otherwise but as expected the meeting isn’t very interesting. The good thing, and the main reason why Shanks met with them instead of going straight to fighting, is that the governor and her council look very relieved now that he’s here. It may be a small-time pirate to Shanks, but to them it’s someone that could ravage their island without the redhead’s protection. Thankfully the meeting doesn’t feel heavy at all. No panic or mourning since there were no casualties, which means you don’t have to feel guilty when you carefully slip your hand to your inner thigh and flip the switch connected to the vibrator pressed against your g-spot. It starts to buzz and Shanks looks at you when you flinch.

“You okay?” He whispers and you nod, letting the meeting continue as you squirm every so often. You gulp and take out the photo snail and paper, giving it a small shush so it knows to be silent. Your husband deserves this little pick me up, and this may or may not be for you too. You stand up, excusing yourself to the bathroom; but not after sneakily handing the snail to Shanks with the photo paper. The captain looks confused but takes it, assuming that the squirming must’ve been from you holding your bladder. You head to the bathroom and pull the camera snail from your bag once you’re inside. Shaking slightly, you breathe deeply before dressing yourself down; revealing the lingerie hidden under your clothes. The vibrator has been pressing on your g-spot for half an hour, your panties already slick with arousal. The thought of Shanks’s reaction sends a throb of arousal in your lower stomach and you angle the camera up from below, spreading your thighs enough to reveal the remote strapped to your thigh and the way the cable disappears into the wet fabric of the lingerie.

Snap

It snaps the photo. You take another deep breath before clicking the shell of the snail to send it.

(Shanks's POV)

“Hm?” Shanks looks down at the Photo Snail that had been resting on his thigh. It’s tapping his stomach with one of its eyes to grab his attention before opening its mouth. A photo from the bathroom? Or maybe it’s just a note you wanted to pass, maybe you’re not feeling well and this is your way of telling him. His eyebrows furrow in worry and he gives the piece of paper to the snail. It puts it into its mouth, taking a moment to project the photo onto the paper. ‘I should’ve followed.’ He thinks to himself as the now finished photo is ejected from the snail’s mouth. The redhead picks the paper up and his eyes widen seeing what’s displayed. His beautiful wife in sexy lingerie and a remote strapped to her inner thigh, the small wire weaving underneath her panties and into the tight, wet heat within. You gave this to him before you left. ‘The squirming, she… she’s in the bathroom right now.’ It slowly connects inside his head as blood rushes to his head.

Splurt

“Chief!?” The mayor of the island quickly panics as blood spurts from Shanks’s nose at the sight of your secret nude. The secretary walks to him and the captain quickly hides the photo’s visual from their eyes.

“I’m fine I’m fine.” A tissue is handed to him which he puts to his nose, the bleeding calming down before another wave comes out at the realization that you’ve been wearing that this entire time for him. “Excuse me.” He quickly stuffs the photo into his pocket with the snail, tossing the bloody tissue into the trash before speed walking out of the room to the bathroom. He gets to the bathroom door and you falter, putting your clothes on and opening the door.

“Yes?-” You get that out but not much else as he pushes his way into the room, shuts the door, and kisses you. Your hand reaches behind him and locks it, making him grin into the kiss.

“Hiding yourself from me now, hm?” His hand reaches under your shirt, smiling wider when he feels the lacy bra underneath. “And when you interrupted me so confidently.” He gets close to your ear and slips his hand down your waistband. “So naughty.”

“Shanks..” You shiver and he groans when he slips his fingers to your bare heat, feeling how wet you are. His fingers gently circle your clit before suddenly quickening the speed, making you gasp and moan into his shoulder. He continues while placing loving kisses to your face until you’re close. Before you can cum he stops and pulls his hand away. You lightly glare at him and he gives you a small peck on the lips.

“You’ll get what you want. I just want to get what I want.” He tugs your shirt up, pupils dilating when your boobs lightly bounce. “All prettied up for me.” Shanks kisses down your body desperately, pulling your bottoms down with his teeth and hand on the way down. Once on his knees he presses his tongue to your clothed pussy, savoring the wetness with a groan. His lips kiss where your clit is, his breath heavy as he messily makes out with your cunt; licking and sucking on the fabric until the saliva mixes with your slick. By the time he’s finished you’re shaking, struggling to keep yourself standing. You don’t need to anymore though, feeling yourself being lifted up as he rises with his arm under your knees and the hem of your shirt between his teeth. Once you’re up his body pins you to the wall with your legs at his sides. He leans in and kisses you, prying your lips open with his tongue to transfer the cloth from his mouth to yours. Once it’s bitten down he pulls away. “Hold that up for me, hun.”

“Mm~” You’re only in your lingerie now, your shirt hiding nothing by the hem held between your teeth. You wrap your legs around him tightly and unbutton his shirt, sliding his coat off and shirt off as he holds you up with his body. His hand shuffles down to his pants until you feel his bare length pressing against you. He grinds and you jolt with a small moan, the loveliest sound to him. Next, he pulls your panties to the side just enough so he can fuck you in the lingerie. The vibrator slips out of you with a tug on the cable and he replaces it with his tip to your entrance. His arm tightens around your body and he slowly sinks you down until you two are joined with matching moans.

“Fuck, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” His cock throbs inside of you, hard and hot from the picture you surprised him with. He pulls back until only the tip is in, then sinks you down again; slow and steady so you can feel every drag of his dick against your walls. It repeats again and again until you whine.

“Stop teasing me..!” He chuckles at your complaint and finally ups the speed, his strong hold keeping you up while he thrusts in and out of you.

“You’re too sexy not to tease.” He mumbles, sucking a mark onto your pulse point. “Pretty girl.” He grinds forward, rolling his hips so his pelvis presses against your clit before going back to his thrusts. “My girl.” While the pleasure clouds your mind you feel his arm pull back before a buzzing sound is heard.

“What?” You question before yelping when the vibrator is pressed to your bud.

“Wouldn’t want this to go to waste, right?” He puts it snugly between your folds. When you squirm he pulls you hard against him. “Nuh uh, doll. This is for you.” Shanks groans as he thrusts quicker. “All for you.” You whimper and dig your nails into his shoulders, the pain making him gasp and throb inside you. It’s hot, the buzzing on your clit, his length, his body against yours. Your lower stomach pulses with pleasure and you moan as a coil forms inside.

“Shanks~!” You moan and he places a reassuring kiss on your lips.

“Go ahead, doll, cum for me. Cum around your husband’s cock as he fucks you.” His words are the last push and you keen as the coil snaps, sending pleasure straight to your head as you climax. He grunts, panting at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and his thrusts slow.

“(Y/n)? Chief?” Someone asks from the other side. Contrary to common sense, Shanks doesn’t stop. Instead he switches to long deep strokes that move your body with each meet of your hips. The movement moves the vibrator from straight onto your bud to the side, yet not enough to stop the buzzing from stimulating you.

“Sorry, she needed a bit of help. She feels sick.” You whimper and he kisses you silent.

“Oh, I hope she feels better soon. The meeting is almost over so she can leave without missing anything important. The only thing missing is your orders.” He pulls away, giving a small shh before speaking.

“I’ll have to help her back to the ship, I can give them to you here.” You clasp a hand over your mouth when he gives a sudden harsh thrust. His jaw clenches for a moment to stop a groan. “..I’ll stay here for a few days to collect info then get my boys to find those troublemakers. We’ll scare 'em then, kill the main ones and you guys-” He gives another harsh thrust. “-can toss the rest in jail. Your choice.” Right after he’s done he presses his lips to yours, his tongue exploring your mouth while going back to his rough pace despite your sensitive body and the person still on the other side of the door.

“Okay then, I'll relay that to everyone else.” They say as Shanks’s thrusts get sloppier, your orgasm is building up again and you don’t know if you can keep quiet enough for them not to hear. You’re trying so hard to hold it in but your husband doesn’t let up at all. “I’ll be seeing you, chief.” His lips leave to press his forehead against yours.

“See you around.” His voice is deep, footsteps getting quiet. The moment they’re gone your control gives out and you cum with a cry.

“Shanks!♡” Your pulse around him and he pants at the feeling, barely managing to ride your orgasm before he finally bottoms out to coat your walls with his cum; keeping his body covering yours until he’s filled you up. Finally the throbbing ends and Shanks sinks to the ground with you on his lap.

“I thought you were going to be normal and slow down.” You state nervously, turning the vibrator off and tossing it to the side.

“I tried, but you were too sexy trying to keep quiet. Hard to keep control.” He gives you a small kiss. “They’ll just assume you were whining from a stomach ache. You look a mess enough to have been throwing up.” A grin forms on his face. “I look close enough when I get real bad hangovers.” His comparison makes you frown and lightly smack him on the shoulder. “Ouch, that's where you scratched.”

____________________

You both fix up the best you can, going with the excuse that you threw up to explain your messiness even when the cum inside you is pooling into the lingerie panties. When you two get back to the ship he cleans you up better, kisses here and there that may have gotten too heated for two people who just got done fucking in a building bathroom; but you do get clean. Since you’re supposedly sick you two stay in the ship and cuddle in bed. Maybe this isn’t as good as a nice date at an amusement park, but the two of you still ended up together; and that's really what cheers Shanks up.

I did it! Ill be making a male version of this too but rn im too tired and i wouldnt bee able to focus okay back yo sleep honk shoo honk shoo.

[monicaalexandraaa]

OH MY GOSH I WANT TO SQUEEZE HIM !!!!!!!!!!! This is the sweetest !!!!!!! I think I said “awwww” at least 17 times throughout this whole part. He is just so freaking cute. I can already tell he’s getting warmed up to her a tiny bit and I’m excited to see the progression. She’s so kind, confident and funny and is exactly what he needs. She’ll help him loosen up and feel more comfortable not just with her but with himself too😌

Every interaction they had in this was perfect! And when he finally laughs that is such a precious moment🥺I’m already so obsessed with them. Truly cannot express enough how much I love this story already🩷🩷

Fine Print: Chemistry

Masterlist: Here

CW: shyness, brief moments of insecurities, smut (masturbation), Harry is a nervous baby.

A/N: I am so excited to get this story going and I hope yall like it, I’ve never done shy Harry so this was fun!✨

Word Count: 6.5K

Tag List: @vikiii07 @pearlybows @sweetmoonlove0214 @mads3502 @somewiseguy @matildasatellite @lizsogolden @spinninc @prettygurl-2009 @onrsie @silastylesswift @umadirectioner @littlemomentsofbeauty @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @mema10 @angeldavis777

Summary: Harry’s mom sets up a meeting, you make Harry nervous but are determined to have him feel comfortable around you✨

“But who is she?” Harry asks for the third time as he follows his mom around her garden, adjusting his glasses as she kneels down to cut a few stems of her rose bush. Anne doesn’t look over at her son as she hands him the stems so he can place them in the basket he has his soft cardigan covered arm looped through.

“I told you Harry she’s a lovely girl that I think will do splendidly as your significant other.” Harry feels his tummy do flips at the idea of this girl he doesn’t even know being his significant other. “I know this isn’t ideal and you’re a romantic but it’s just temporary okay? Just until you settle in and get your footing in your new role.” She goes on to add as she spots a few more good looking roses to cut off and hand to Harry to place in the basket.

“This is all just-just a lot and and what if she doesn’t even like me?” Harry feels his chest tighten as he pictures sitting down across from a woman who ends up leaving as soon as Harry opens his mouth and stutters over his hello because he’s nervous and ends up saying something ridiculous. “She’ll probably think I’m-I’m weird or not her type because-”

“Now Harry that’s just ridiculous you’re everyone’s type.” Anne says gently interrupting his nervous rant, not trying to downplay his worries but not letting him talk poorly about himself in the process. “You’re not weird so that’s enough of that and I happen to know for a fact she thinks you’re quite charming.” Harry’s face gets five shades redder as his mother lets him in on a little secret she’s been carrying around ever since she approached you with the idea of marrying her son so he can take his father’s place as head of the family business.

“R-really? She-she said I’m charming?” He stutters as he reaches up and adjusts his glasses, Anne turns her head to look over at him and nods with a soft smile.

“She did.”

“So we’ve met before? Her and I?”

“Once or twice yes.”

“When?” He wonders as he follows his mother as she moves to another rose bush with pink flowers. She waves her hand and lets out a hum as if she’s trying to shoo away his questions.

“I don’t remember.” She answers not looking at him, focusing on finding the prettiest flowers to add to the basket so she can make a few arrangements to place around the house. “Just don’t be late tonight okay? That’s not a good first impression.”

“Mother we’ve already met so this isn’t going to be a first impression.” He states making Anne shoot him a glare that has him swallowing down his sudden braveness, not wanting to get on his mother’s bad side when she seems to be in a very cheerful mood.

“This is important Harry I need you to just be on time and show her how truly lovely you are.” He lets out a sigh as his mother turns so she’s facing him. “Think you can manage that?” She asks as she raises her hand that’s glove free and rests it on the side of Harry’s face, giving his cheek a gentle pat.

“Yes ma’am I can manage that.” He answers with a small smile, trying his hardest to not let his nerves show. And it clearly works as his mom just returns his smile before turning back around to cut a few more roses from the bush. Harry watches from a few steps away as his tummy twists itself into knots and his heart begins to beat a mile a minute when he looks down at his wrist and sees that in a little over four hours he’ll be meeting someone who will potentially be his wife for an undisclosed amount of time, and all he can think or more so worry about is if you’ll like him.

Harry feels as if the entire weight of his family business is resting on his shoulders as he sits in the plush leather seat in the middle of a cafe near his house. He looks around as he nervously fidgets with the ring on his index finger, spinning it around while trying to seem like nothing is troubling him and act like it doesn’t bother him in the slightest that whoever is about to take the seat across from him is going to eventually have the same last name as him. His knee is bouncing up and down as he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, regretting the choice to wear a long sleeve cream colored jumper knowing that he tends to run a little warm when he’s nervous. He is halfway through debating on if he should order a coffee or if it’ll make his heart that already feels on the verge of bursting with how wildly it’s beating, actually do just that with the addition of caffeine when he feels a presence behind him.

“Is it normal for you to sit in a cafe and not order anything?” Your voice startles him as you lean down and fold your arms on the back of his chair so you’re lips are right next to his ear, Harry immediately jolts forward so he can turn his upper body and look at you just as you stand up with a smile on your face that has him struggling to form complete sentences in his mind.

You watch his cheeks turn a deep pink as he reaches up and fixes his glasses that slid down his nose a bit with how quickly he scooted forward in his seat. You can’t help the way your smile spreads into a full blown grin at how utterly adorable the man sitting in front of you is, with his khaki colored slacks and soft knitted jumper and his glasses that bring your attention to his soft jade colored eyes that can’t seem to stare into yours longer than a few seconds before they look elsewhere. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around his chair until you’re standing in front of him with your hand out.

“Allow me to introduce myself.” Harry takes your hand as you tell him your name and it’s one that for some reason sounds vaguely familiar. “I’m going to be your wife in,” you take your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the date on your lock screen. “Two and a half weeks.” You state with a smile as you give his hand a firm shake.

“Oh uhm uh hi I’m-I’m Harry St-Styles.” He fumbles his way through his greeting and it makes him internally cringe at how dumb he sounds just trying to tell you his name, a name that he knows you already know.

“I like your last name.” You tell him as he lets go of your hand, you turn and walk over to the seat across from him. “I like it so much I think I’ll make it mine as well is that okay with you?” You ask as you plop down into the seat, letting your bag fall to the floor by your feet. Harry blinks a few times before clearing his throat and running a hand through his curly brown hair.

“You’re uhm really okay with all of uh-this?” He gestures between the two of you with his hand that’s not white knuckle griping the armrest of his chair.

“Yeah I’m fine with it-I mean don’t get me wrong it’s a little old school to need the person running your family business to be married and a man but it’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” Your answer has Harry’s mind reeling with possibilities of what could be the craziest thing you’ve ever heard, his eyes glance down to your shoes when you catch him staring at you for a beat too long. “I’m going to need you to do something for me okay?” Your voice is soft and sweet but still gives off a sense of confidence that has Harry already mentally agreeing to whatever it is you’re about to ask him to do. You lean over and rest your forearms on your knees, your hands clasp together and your eyes stare into his once he swallows down his nerves and dares to meet your gaze.

“Wh-what is it?”

“I need you to look me in the eye for a full two minutes.”

“I-I uhm why?” He asks as he adjusts his glasses and feels his face get hot as you continue to stare directly at him making him have to look away.

“Because it’ll make it easier for you to not get so-blushy around me if we just stare at each other for a few minutes and then maybe it’ll also help you listen better because I hit you with two jokes about us getting married and you didn’t even chuckle so yeah we have to get this out of the way before it becomes a thing.” Harry sits there in awe of how well you managed to get through your whole little spiel without fumbling over your words, looking away from him and all without your cheeks even gaining the tiniest hint of a blush. Your words came out smoothly and your voice never lost its gentleness, not even when explaining how he failed to laugh at your two little attempts at jokes that clearly went right over his head.

“Why-why two minutes? Why not just uh just one?” He rubs at the back of his neck as his eyes glance over your shoulder to the back of the small cafe, needing a break from the eye contact.

“It’s been scientifically proven that the longer you can maintain eye contact with someone the less likely they are to make you nervous and as your soon to be wife I’d like to make you a little nervous.” This time Harry doesn’t miss the small change your voice does when you lightly tease him, how the softness has a playful edge to it. “But not enough to make you uncomfortable.” You explain with a calming smile that makes a swarm of butterflies go off in his tummy.

“Okay.”

“Great.” You pull out your phone and scroll to the timer app and set it for two minutes before placing it on the armrest of your chair. “Ready?” He gives you a nod in response as he fixes his glasses and runs his palms over the tops of his thighs. “Two minutes starts now.” His eyes slowly find yours and he has to fight the urge to immediately look away, his hands grip his pants as he feels his cheeks get warmer and warmer as the seconds tick by.

“Is there anything you want to ask me?” Your voice almost makes Harry look away but he just clears his throat and maintains his eye contact.

“Uhm uh-have we met before? My mom said-”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Five or six years ago I think? It was very brief at a convention my dad dragged me to. Your dad was talking to my dad about golf clubs and I dropped my badge on the floor and you picked it up for me.” The wheels in Harry’s mind begin to turn and you smile as if you can actually see him beginning to figure it out.

“Your dad knows my dad?” You just nod and then the lightbulb goes off in Harry’s mind. “Oh-I knew- knew your name sounded familiar. Your dad used to-”

“Own one of your biggest competitors? Yeah. Well before he sold it two years ago.”

“Oh.” He says as he sits back in his chair, his eyes a little wide but still locked onto yours. “Is that-that why my mom picked you? Because of your family?”

“Picked me? Harry do you think she selected me out of some applicant pool as if she posted about this on some job site?” You ask with a laugh making him shrug, the timer goes off and you silence it and much to your surprise Harry stays looking directly at you.

“I don’t know how she did it. She just uh told me what was happening and if I’d uhm-have any-any issues with it.”

“Well your mom has been going to my tennis club for the last year and a half so we’ve gotten friendly and she approached me two weeks ago with this proposal of marrying her son so he can take his father’s place as head of the company.” Harry nods as you begin telling him the story his mother has been refusing to. “She told me she wanted someone like me because I know how it goes-running a company and the toll it can take on someone. But mainly because she wanted someone who would help you gain the confidence and respect of your employees because you’re-”

“Too nice? Soft? A w-wimp?” Your eyes harden just a bit as you stand up from your seat and Harry regrets opening his mouth as you approach his chair.

“Being soft isn’t a bad thing. The world is plenty sharp enough I think it needs more softness.” Harry feels his hands get sweaty as you place a hand on the back of his chair so you can lean over and run a hand through his hair. “She said you’re kindhearted and she doesn’t want to see you get taken advantage of.” You answer as you stand up and he feels as if he can take a sigh of relief when you look away from him and over towards the counter. “Let’s go order something so we don’t look like the only two weirdos not drinking anything in the middle of a cafe.” He stumbles out of his chair to follow you as you head for the counter.

“So uhm why did-did your dad uh sell the company?” Harry asks surprising not only you but himself as the two of you stand off to the side after ordering your drinks. You just give him a casual shrug as you lean against the counter.

“He wanted to retire and I didn’t want to take it over.” Your answer is simple but Harry can tell there’s more to it but before he can ask anything else a nice barista is handing him a cup of coffee and you an iced late.

“Thank you.” You quirk a brow at Harry’s soft spoken thanks, because you were standing next to him when he ordered and you know for a fact he didn’t order a hot coffee. You notice him bring the cup up to his lips and make a face that tells you he doesn’t like whatever he just took a sip of.

“Excuse me?” Harry nearly trips over himself to follow you as you take the cup from his hands and walk around to the front of the counter, as he stands behind you he begins to think this is going to be something he’ll be doing a lot of, stumbling over himself to keep up with you.

“Hi how can I help you?” You give the barista a pleasant smile as you place the cup down on the counter in front of her.

“He ordered a double shot over ice with two creams and one sugar.” You explain with no hint of annoyance or rudeness in your voice, just right to the point. The woman looks at the cup and then back at you with an apologetic look on her face.

“So sorry I’ll get that out right away.”

“Thank you so much.” You say before turning around and Harry watches your hand as it comes and rests on his arm. “It’s not rude to ask for things to be fixed. It doesn’t make you an asshole.” It’s as if you can read him like a book the way your words hit him right in the chest. “Don’t settle for things you don’t like. Not even something as small as a cup of coffee.”

“Here you go ma’am so sorry about that.” You turn and grab the cup from the nice woman’s hand, giving her a smile.

“Thank you it’s for my husband-gets a little cranky without his mid day caffeine kick.” You joke making the woman laugh as she looks over your shoulder towards Harry who is looking down at the floor while rubbing the back of his neck hoping neither of you can see how pink his cheeks are.

“Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Did you call me your uhm hus-husband?” You just nod as you hand him his coffee and walk back over to the side of the counter to grab your latte and head back to your chair.

“Might as well start getting used to calling you that right?” You stop mid step nearly making Harry crash into you as you turn around and raise an eyebrow at him. “Unless you don’t want me to be your wife and you’re just trying to think of a polite way to tell me you’re not interested and your mom needs to find someone-”

“No no I like you.” He sputters out faster than he intends making you let out a chuckle. “I just don’t uhm know what happens now?” You reach your hand up and place it on the side of his face, Harry instantly without any shame leans into the warmth of your touch.

“Well did you want to propose now or wait until after my background check clears?” This has Harry choking on a sip of coffee and trying to catch his breath as you reach up and place a kiss to the cheek your hand isn’t holding.

“I uh-uhm I don’t-don’t know.” You laugh as you pull away from him and drop your hand from his face allowing him to collect himself.

“I’m just kidding Harry- that’s three jokes now so maybe we need to do some more eye content drills.” You lightly tease as you give his arm a reassuring squeeze before looking down at the watch on your wrist with a small frown. “It was lovely meeting you but I have to go-I’ll see you in a few days for drinks or dinner okay?” All Harry can do is nod as you give him one last warm smile before turning and grabbing your stuff and heading out the door of the cafe.

“Holy crap.” He mumbles as he walks over to his chair and plops down with a humph. “That-that was my future wife.” A smile creeps its way onto his face as he leans his head against the cushion of he chair, the sound of your voice and the way your eyes seem to sparkle when you smile replaying in his head as he begins to think that maybe this won’t be too bad, you seem nice and have enough confidence for the both of you so maybe this will turn out better than he thought.

“You look cute.” Your words already have Harry feeling flustered as he stands up to greet you when you make your way to the table in the back of a little Italian place you suggested the two of you have dinner at.

His eyes quickly rake over your frame, he is in a slight daze over how effortlessly put together and cute you look with your green dress that you tossed a thin white sweater over so you don’t get cold. It’s not lost on him how you manage to make something that’s simple look as elegant as an evening gown with how you carry yourself. He can see exactly why his mom sought you out for him. When his eyes meet yours his tummy does a weird little flip when you give him a little wink.

“I like you in brown.” He smiles and looks down at his light brown cardigan he has over his plain white t shirt that’s tucked into a pair of jeans, you hang your bag in an empty chair before leaning over and placing a kiss to his cheek. “Makes your eyes pop.” You explain making him just nod as he tries to act like the feeling of your lips on his cheek hasn’t been at the forefront of his mind since you did it the first time two days ago in the cafe.

“Thank-thank you uhm you look beautiful.” His voice gives his nerves away as he feels his whole face get hot when you pull away from him. You let out a chuckle as you take your seat in the chair right next to him that he is quick to pull out for you.

“So glad I’m marrying a man with manners.” You say appreciatively as he helps push your chair closer to the table.

He smiles as he lets his eyes wander over your face for a moment before taking his seat, taking note of how pretty you look with the candle light blanketing your features in a soft glow. He feels suddenly out of place sitting here with you, as if he doesn’t quite meet the standards of someone you should be seen having dinner with.

“Okay come on.” He’s brought out of his thoughts by your hand grabbing his on top of the table.

“Where-where are we going?” He asks making you laugh as you shake your head and even though you’re laughing at him having no clue what’s going on he decides he likes the way it sounds.

“No where.” You say with a laugh as you wrap your fingers around his hand. “Just need you to look in my eyes for a bit because that’s now four marriage jokes I’ve told you since meeting you and I still haven’t gotten even a little giggle out of you and it’s not that I think I’m wildly funny or anything but I do think those were decent chuckle worthy jokes.”

“I’m-I’m sorry I just-”

“It’s okay.” Your voice puts him more at ease as you give his hand a soft squeeze. “I just want you to feel comfortable around me that’s all so come on-look me in the eyes and tell me what you’re wearing to this party on Saturday so I can plan accordingly.” Your eyes are soft and easy to get lost in when Harry finally finds it within himself to look into them.

“Uhm I’m wearing a black suit with a r-red shirt and black slacks and uh-uh black dress shoes.” You nod along as Harry slowly tumbles his way through telling you what he’s wearing to his father’s retirement party, never making him feel as if he needs to rush you just simply sit there and look at him as if what he’s saying is the most interesting thing you’ve ever heard.

“Okay I have a red dress but I’ll have to see the exact shade of red your shirt is to make sure it matches or else we are going to look silly.”

“You-you want to match with-”

“With my fiancé? Yes. Makes it look as if we’ve been coordinating our outfits for years-it’ll be good to make it seem as if this won’t be our first social outing as a couple.”

“Oh right-yes that makes uhm sense.” You instantly pick up on the slight shift in Harry’s voice, going from shocked and excited to almost deflated and it has you leaning towards him, a small smirk playing at the corners of your mouth.

“And I just want everyone to know you’re mine and nothing does that better in a room full of nosey businessmen and their even nosier wives than a matching color scheme.” Harry has to break the eye contact as he feels his cheeks get hot, he adjusts his glasses and softly clears his throat before he can look at you again. “So just send me a photo of your shirt and I’ll make sure my dress matches.”

“Did you want to arrive together? Uh like with-with uhm me? So it doesn’t look weird us showing up separately?”

“Oh my man has manners and brains? I might never give you up.” This has Harry quietly chuckling making your eyes go wide and a grin to spread across your face. “Oh my god I’ve done it!” He smiles as you give his hand a firm squeeze and reach over with your free hand and place it on his cheek. “You laughed.” You say with a happy sigh making him once again let out a chuckle at your dramatics that give him a warm and fuzzy feeling on the inside because of how happy you are over the fact you managed to get him to laugh.

“Does this mean we don’t-don’t need the eye contact uhm drills anymore?” He asks nervously as you pull your hand away from his cheek and when you just give him a look he already knows your answer.

“Oh no we are going to continue to do them until I get a full on belly laugh out of you.” He just nods and rubs his lips together as you finally let go of his hand so you can grab the menu that’s in front of you. “Now let’s pick something to eat because I’m starving and you and I have things to discuss and I can’t do business on an empty stomach.”

“So you-you don’t want to change anything about the contract? You’re-you’re sure?” Harry asks as you scrape the last bit of ice cream from the sundae you ordered for dessert. “Not even the uhm-uh compensation? I left that-that open for negotiation.” You let out a hum of pleasure as you put the spoon in your mouth that has Harry’s gaze falling away from your eyes and down to your lips. He watches as you pull the spoon from your mouth and lick your lips in what seems like slow motion making him shift in his seat and look down at the table as he fixes his glasses.

“Harry I don’t need to be heavily compensated I have enough money to live a very comfortable life so yes everything is fine.” You answer as you push the now empty bowl away from you. “I was a little shocked at what was hidden in the fine print though.” Harry raises an eyebrow as you fold your napkin and place it on the table next to your bowl.

“What-what fine print?”

“The fine print that says that the timeframe for our marriage is dependent upon on how quickly we can get you to be taken seriously and seen as a dependable and confident new head of the company but I can expect it to take anywhere between six months to over a year.”

“Oh I see.”

“And that I get an extra ten thousand for every baby I give you.” You have a playful smile on your face as Harry nearly drops his glass of water and looks at you with wide eyes.

“That-that’s not-there’s no way-you don’t have-”

“Relax Harry I’m kidding. There’s nothing about babies in the contract.” Harry lets out a sigh of relief that has you reaching over and lightly smacking his arm. “Gee can you sound anymore relieved? I mean I don’t think having babies with me would be that horrible.”

“Oh no that’s not-I don’t think it would be bad it would be lovely-not the uhm making of the babies but that you’d-you’d uhm make lovely-lovely babies.” Harry officially wants to get up, walk away and change his name as the words seem to fall from his mouth without his permission.

“I think you’d make some pretty adorable babies as well Harry.” He can’t bring himself to look at you as your words hit his ears, still too embarrassed by the ridiculous stuttering mess of jumbled up words he just said to you. “Your mom said we are announcing the engagement at the party so that will officially mean the countdown is on and we have to be married by the time your dad leaves his office for the last time.” You quickly and smoothly move the conversation along as you grab your glass of water so you can take a sip.

“Okay does that me we have to-”

“How are we doing over here?” Harry looks up as the waitress approaches the table, her eyes never leaving Harry as she stands there with a smile on her face. “Need anything else? More water or-”

“I think we are good thank you.” You answer as the waitress not so subtly checks Harry out, who is too busy turning and looking over at you to notice. When she finally looks away from him and over at you, you reach over and place your hand over his arm as you lean just a tad bit closer to him to show the waitress that Harry is very much not avaible for her to drool over, at least not in front of you. “Oh actually maybe the check if you don’t mind?”

“Oh uh yeah sure thing I’ll be right back.” You see the small hint of disappointment on her face when Harry just stays looking at you, making her have no other choice but to nod as she turns and walks away.

“So how are you feeling about this? Like really?” You ask with a tone that Harry hasn’t heard from you before, it’s still sweet but the undertone is more serious.

“I uhm-”

“Don’t be afraid to hurt my feelings okay? Be honest.”

“I feel good about this uhm I was nervous-I’m still nervous but not about this but more about uh taking-taking over the company that-that’s uhm yeah a uh a lot.”

“Well you won’t have to do that alone.” Harry once again feels butterflies in his tummy when you give him a genuine smile as you give his arm a squeeze. “I’ll be there every step of the way.” Your words have him relaxing a bit, you slide your hand down so it’s over his wrist.

“Thank you.” He says with a smile that lets you see his dimples for the first time, your whole face lights up as you stare at him.

“Oh goodness dimples? Yeah good luck getting rid of me you’re like the total package.” Harry’s face gets warm but he fights through it and doesn’t take his eyes off yours.

“I uhm had a good-good time tonight.” He tells you as he mindlessly flips his hand over so his palm is facing up and you don’t waste anytime in sliding your hand into his making him swallow nervously as you slip your fingers between his.

“Here’s your check. Have a good rest of your night.” You reach over with your free hand and grab the check from the middle of the table before Harry can even try to reach for it as soon as the waitress walks away.

“I can’t let you-”

“Can’t let me what? Buy you dinner? Why not?”

“Uhm because that’s-this is like a uh date right? So-so I should pay.”

“Says who?”

“It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Don’t worry I won’t think you’re rude for letting me pay it’s okay.” Harry lets out a sigh as he shakes his head while you grab your wallet out of your purse. “Look at us. Having our first fight over who gets to pay for dinner. We’re so cute.”

“This-it’s not a fight but just know I’m not okay with this.” You laugh and give his hand a squeeze as you place the check down with your card tucked underneath it.

“I’ll let you pay for everything else from now on how about that?”

“Fine.” He tries to sound upset but the smile tugging at his mouth gives him away and before he can stop himself he’s leaning over and tucking some hair behind your ear. “Sorry you-”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to touch me I’m not made of glass.” Your voice is light and teasing but Harry can’t help but sense a hidden meaning to your words but before he can think to hard about it the waitress comes by to grab the check.

“So I’ll see you this weekend?” You ask as you stand outside the restaurant, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“Yes I’ll uhm come pick you up around six if that-that works for you?”

“Works great.” You answer as you take a small step towards him, Harry looks down at you and adjusts his glasses as you wrap your arms around him in a hug. “I had a nice time tonight Harry. Thank you for being such a gentleman.” You tell him as his body finally reacts to what’s happening, you rest your cheek against his shirt as his arms loosely wrap around your shoulders returning your embrace.

“Thank you for being uhm so-understanding I uh can see why my mom picked you.” You smile as you pull away and look up at him.

“See you Saturday hubby.” You give him a playful wink that has him chuckling and it works as a distraction so he doesn’t notice you reaching up on your tiptoes until he feels your lips on his in a kiss that is so quick the only way he knows it actually happened is he can faintly feel the softness of your lips when you pull away with a smile. “Don’t worry I’ll text you when I get home. I know how much you worry about me.” You tease as you unwrap your arms from around him.

“Uhm uh-see-see you Saturday.” His words are rushed and it makes you giggle as Harry’s arm fall down to his sides as he watches in a trance like state as you turn around and head towards the car that’s waiting to take you home. You give him a wave that he doesn’t register and try to return before it’s too late and you’ve already climbed into the backseat and closed the door, leaving Harry standing there in a daze as he watches the car drive off down the street feeling not nervous, but actually kinda excited about Saturday.

Harry can’t seem to get you out of his head when he gets home from dinner. His mind is a mixture of images that remind him of how pretty you are, how sweet your voice is when you’re telling him a story and the adorable smile you get when you’re teasing him. But the main two things that have Harry’s mind spinning is how much he enjoys hearing you call him your fiancé or husband already, he knows those are titles he’ll actually be to you soon but hearing them fall from your lips with such enthusiasm and excitement makes his heart do weird things and he really can’t get over how soft your hands feel whenever you slide them into his or wrap them around his wrist.

Harry steps into his shower thinking it’ll help him relax and get you off his mind, he lets the warm water hit him easing the tension in his shoulders as the warmth of the steam engulfs him. He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes, but he’s instantly met with visions of you laughing and smiling at him and something about the way you smile at him sends a shiver down his spine. The visions playing in his mind are so vivid, he can practically hear your voice saying his name and the feeling of your hand gently wrapping around his wrist and suddenly it’s all too much for him.

Harry’s arm reaches forward, his hand resting on the cool tile wall of his shower as he feels himself hardening at the mere thought of you. He slides a hand down his toned stomach wondering how it would feel if it was your hand and not his own, he lets out a groan as he wraps his hand around his hard length giving himself a few slow strokes. He knows this is probably borderline inappropriate, stroking himself to the idea of how it would feel to have your soft hands on him but in this very moment Harry can only focus on how good he feels.

“Oh shit.” He mumbles as he remembers the faint feeling of your lips against his, his mind spinning with ideas of how nice those lips would feel wrapped around his hard cock. He lets out a soft moan as he pictures you kneeling down in front of him, your pretty round eyes gazing upward, lips parted invitingly. His hand tightens around himself as he envisions your tongue tracing him teasingly, your mouth enveloping him fully feeling deliciously warm and wet around his shaft, your head bobbing rhythmically.

“Oh yes-just like that.” He murmurs breathlessly, his hand quickening its pace, gripping tighter as pleasure starts to build rapidly. Harry swears he can almost hear your soft moans, they’d be sweet and a bit whiney and it makes his cock twitch in his grasp. He imagines your hands gripping his thighs as you take him deeper, letting his hands tangle in your hair, imagines the moans you’d let out when he gives it a few tugs.

“Fuck.” He gasps urgently, his hips thrusting instinctively into his own hand, driven by the vivid image of you looking up at him while he thrusts his hips letting the tip of his thick cock hit the back of your throat making you gag slightly. Your nails digging into the back of his thighs urging him on.

“Shit-oh fuck.” He groans loudly, the warm water cascading over his trembling body as his climax surges powerfully through him, releasing in hot pulses onto the shower tiles. He shudders deeply, breathing heavily as the intense pleasure begins to subside. His eyes slowly open and he lets out a shaky breath as he realizes what he just did and instead of feeling guilty or even embarrassed at how quickly he managed to get himself off he just lets out a breathy laugh at how flustered you made him after just a few interactions with you, knowing it’s only going to get worst the longer he’s around you. He shakes his head making water fling off the ends of his damp hair, trying to clear his mind.

“Get it together Harry.” He mumbles to himself as he tilts his head up towards the water and runs both hands through his hair. The movement making him remember how good your hand felt when you ran it through his hair in the cafe. He has to shut his eyes tight and make himself think of other things like memos from work and meetings with the marketing team so he doesn’t get worked up again but even those thoughts have him remembering how soft your voice sounded when telling him how you’ll be with him every step of the way as he transitions into his new role and he feels his cock twitch between his thighs making him let out a frustrated groan.

“I’m so fucked.”

[novaimperia]

★ popular girl!reader distracting nerd!nanami during a study session

“p-please don’t. you have to pay -ngh- attention,” nanami mutters, hands waving in the air frantically, unsure where to land. 

under the desk, you mouth at his cock – he’s being so boring, reading off the textbook and bossing you around. so, of course you had to take matters into your own hand, or rather, into your mouth, to liven things up. otherwise you would have lost your mind in boredom. “no, i want to have some fun.”

“but you promised me that after i -ah s-slow down- after i ate you out you’d work hard for an hour.” the nerd’s mouth is saying no but his cock is throbbing yes in morse code. he really ought to be more honest, especially when you can tell he showered right before you came; his hair is slightly wet, his skin supple and smooth, smelling of cocoa butter, and his cock of lavender soap. 

mouth full of his heavy balls, you tease, “i am working hard, kento. you think milking your pathetic cock is easy? hmm?”

nanami flushes a pretty pink, teeth biting into the plump of his bottom lip, desperate to stop the groans and moans from leaving his mouth. unable to help himself, his hand flies down to your hair and faces an internal battle: to push you away or to pull you down his long length until your nose is buried in the blond hair at his base. 

“this is -oh, f-fudge- unfair. ngh! i-if you fail the exam, you’ll -hah- get mad at me.”

that’s true. last time you failed, you didn’t speak to him for a week, choosing to ignore him on campus, and you certainly never let him touch you, not for quick hookups in the janitor’s closet or in the toilet stalls, not for a handjob in his car or some pussy eating behind a tree in the fields behind the science labs. honestly, you weren’t even planning on torturing him like that – you knew it was your fault to begin with – but he gets so needy and pitifully sensitive when you finally give him attention, almost as if he craved to be punished, to earn you and your pussy. 

nanami would rut his softening cock into your pussy well after he came, driving himself into oversensitivity until he’s shooting blanks and drooling all over your chest. he’d whimper your name over and over again, moaning about how he missed you, how he’s sorry and he’ll tutor you better so please don’t replace him. then, when you mercifully give him another chance as you push him back to sit on his face, he whines ‘thank you’ endlessly right against your clit.

in a lot of ways, it was actually a reward for him. 

you’re charitable like that. 

“ugh, shut up, nerd. hurry up and cum down my throat so you can eat me out again. if you do a good enough job, i’ll go through a practice paper with yo–mghm!.”

his hands shove your head down his cock, suffocating you and making you gag, eyes watering. hips thrusting up in unrhythmic pulses, nanami practically uses you like a fleshlight. when you give him these kinds of commands, it’s hard to tell whether he’s more pleased about you actually doing some studying or if he’s eager to have you sit on his face again. either way, you suppose, you’re both getting what you want. 

when he finally paints your throat white with his salty spend, you come to straddle him, pinching his chin. thoroughly pavlov’d, his jaw hangs wide enough for you to spit his own cum back into his mouth. he swallows. his eyes roll back. “hmm, you’ve been -hah- chewing cherry bubblegum again. you know what that does to me.”

“i don’t know what you mean, kenny baby.”

something begins to grow hard again beneath your ass. 

pathetic. 

[mwphisto]

Simple things that turn LnDs men on~

Including: Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, and Caleb x reader. Reader is implied female but most can be interpreted however you please!

Warning, this post is 18+! Some lighter smut since my brain cannot handle anything else atm (I’m graduating university in 3 weeks)

Shifting banner from @cafekitsune <3

Xavier

Cuddling with you, seeing you sleepy and warm and soft in his embrace, under his blankets, in his bed. He can’t help it, you’re just so perfect, so sweet in this state. His hands can’t help but wander, sliding over your soft tummy, your thighs, eventually landing to cup your chest. His nose nuzzles into the crown of your head, inhaling your shampoo, and the next thing he knows? His hips are swiveling softly into the plush of your ass.

When you get mad. He’s not capable of explaining why his body has the reaction it does. Other than the plain statement of “you’re hot when you’re mad.” Which isn’t a lie, Xavier finds you so hot when you’re angry. Seeing you so passionate about something that it gets your blood boiling? He’s thinking of ways to get you to cool down. How easily he could switch the downward tilt of your brows into something far more… relaxed… pleased… blissed out…

Sitting on his lap is a definite way to get his attention. Xavier can get a bit lost in his hobbies, whether it be reading or scrolling articles on his phone. Sometimes the call of his name doesn’t snap him out of his trance. But you know what does? Settling your pretty self on his muscular legs, a smile on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks and guiding him up towards your glittery eyes. The weight of you on him, the warmth, the surprise of his train of thought being interrupted, all of it has his heart rate spiking. Until all he can see, hear, and feel is you.

Rafayel

Matching his energy can totally catch the artist off guard — the absolute best way. To be blunt, you’re able to match his freak so well he can’t help but get turned on at how in sync the two of you are. His beautiful bride, perfect in every way. When you two are so effortlessly on the same page, he finds himself struggling to keep his composure. Luckily for him, you always seem to know what he’s thinking without him so much as saying a word.

Willingly being his muse just might send Raf into a coma. Seeing you sprawled over his couch, barely dressed so he can do some anatomy sketches has him shifting uncomfortably on his stool. Your sweet smile, delicate and skilled hands, the way you whisper his name while he scribbles on his paper with a rosy blush on his cheeks. You’re just so effortlessly beautiful it drives him insane.

Noticing the smallest details about him will get his head spinning. Rafayel harbors a lot of mixed emotions regarding his past and he loves you wholeheartedly but sometimes he just can’t… let go. When you take the time to get to know him — or as much as he’s willing to give you — and you actually pick up on things that go unsaid? His head is spinning, his heart pounding, the seal on his chest burning brightly. He wants to devote himself to you, it’s just part of his nature at this point. Eventually, he’ll work through it all and give into what he needs most…

Zayne

Your laughter sends his heart into a nose dive. He’s never been one for jokes, his dry humor often carrying him through. But when he says something that genuinely has you belly laughing, his name a sweet melody on your lips as you try and contain your giggles? He’s shifting his legs to hide the growing tension between his legs. You look at him with such adoration, so sweet and delicate, he has to reign himself in before frost creeps up his neck.

Giving him your full attention when he begins to ramble about nerdy medical things definitely causes the surgeon to lose his train of thought. You may not understand the scientific terms he’s using, and you may feel a bit bad when he has to explain them again with simpler terminology, but your attention is undivided regardless. And Zayne notices, of course he does. His heart is pounding as he rattles off all of his fascinations — such as new research he’s compiled about neonatal heart defects. You’re so engaged with him, nodding along and even asking him some questions. He’s fighting the urge to kiss you senseless. After a long day you’re so willing to listen to him ramble on about his research? He’s going to marry you, and fuck you senseless for being such a good girl.

Taking care of him, such as shaving his face or washing his hair will have Zayne be putty in your hands. He does so much for others, puts so much care and effort into making their lives better. It’s only right that you step up and do the same for Dr. Zayne. Though, bless him, he didn’t expect you to straddle his lap and shave him with a straight razor. Didn’t expect to be engulfed by the sent of your perfume as you settle your weight on his legs and glide the razor over his skin. It’s intimate, the proximity of your bodies is close enough to generate some warmth. He’ll lose it before you’re able finish one side of his unshaven cheek.

Sylus

Skinship with the leader of Onychinus is pretty special. Sylus savors every second of it, given that your hands rarely touch him outside of holding his waist when on his bike. The feeling of your fingers on his cheeks, your legs caging his as you sit together on the couch, your fingers intertwining with his. He’s a goner, so touch starved it’s nearly pitiful. He’s always been a man of composure, but god dammit you’re just so soft compared to him. You’re so warm and smell so good and you’re just so… you’re so sparing with your touches. As if you’re hesitant, not sure if he’d want your hands on him in the first place. Drives him so insane, he craves to hold you close but doesn’t want to push you before you’re ready.

Seeing you wear clothes he picked out for you has Sylus adjusting his collar and inhaling deep through his nose. His mark is on you, even if it’s not on your skin, you’re dressed so beautifully. You match him, compliment him perfectly. You look so breathtaking he has to mentally pat himself on the back for having such damn good taste. Seeing you feel yourself in what he’s picked does wonders for his already big ego. Seeing you twirl and smile as you admire yourself in the dress, the skirt, the pants, the shirt, whatever he’s picked out for you for the occasion. It gives him a sense of pride, like he’s done good, and it’s a genuine plus that you look so goddamn perfect in every outfit.

Kissing his knuckles nearly sends him over the edge one night. You had finished cleaning some wounds while his evol recharged and sealed the deal with a gingerly placed kiss on his battered knuckles. Sylus nearly sees stars because of it, such an overwhelming surge of possessiveness and heat flooding his weary veins that he nearly pops a hard-on then and there on the floor.

Caleb

Stealing his clothing is something you’ve always done. Something about it being comfier, softer, smelling like him. God he doesn’t even care for the reason, he just knows you look so divine in his shirt, his boxers, his hoodie. So cute and small compared to him, marked as his for anyone who has the gracious opportunity to see you in such a state. He guesses it’s only fair you steal his clothes, since he has a small — but growing — collection of your panties—

Relying on him 100% would put Caleb on cloud nine. Giving up your tough guy act and simply putting all of your needs on him would have him struggling to keep his composure long enough to actually see the tasks through. Could be something as simple as asking him to cut up some fruit for you, could be as complicated as giving your bike a tuneup. Regardless, Caleb is blissed out and glossy-eyed as he shows his love for you in his favorite fashion.

Slipping into his bed in the middle of the night has been something you’ve done since childhood. Bad dream, can’t sleep, anxious or stressed, Caleb’s arms have always been your biggest comfort. He waits for it, waits for the creak of his door and your quiet whisper of permission. He craves the dip of his mattress, the weight and warmth of your body next to his under his sheets. He has to be mindful of where his hips land on you, purely out of fear that you might feel something you’re not supposed to just yet.

[luveline]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly. 

cw painkiller high, light suggestive theme 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“Hello.” 

You lift your gaze without blinking. Hotch is standing in the doorway, making his way in with a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm and a white envelope against his chest. 

“Hello,” he says again, meeting your wide, still eyes with concern. “You okay?” 

“Flowers for me?” 

“You’re the one here in a hospital bed. They’re from me and Jack. He insisted.” 

You nod up and down robotically. Your heart is unhappy today. You’ve been fast and slow and now it’s running fast again, a tip-tip-tip on the heart monitor that makes Hotch frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “They told me you were on a lot of pain medication, you shouldn’t be hurting anymore. Is it not working?” 

“I feel a lot.” 

“And that’s unsettling,” he surmises.

“Can I have my flowers?” 

Hotch offers them to you immediately. “Why don’t you count to a hundred for me?” 

“They’re beautiful, but there’s not that many.” 

“Count to one hundred. I can start. Do you need me to start for you?” 

You dip your face into the flowers. “I love when you say stuff like that.” 

Hotch doesn’t answer you. You begin counting, hoping he’ll say a nice thing if you do as he asked. The numbers get mixed up after thirty five, there really aren’t enough flowers to count to a hundred, but when forty five and fifty four begin to feel like the same number spiritually, Hotch reaches for your forearm and gives it a squeeze. That means job well done. Nobody else in the team gets arm squeezes —they’re for you. Nobody else has noticed, but you have. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

You beam at him. The heart monitor beeps in slow loops. “You’re welcome. Did it help?” 

“I’d say so.” He takes off his suit jacket and puts it over the back of the chair, pulling the chair towards the bed with his foot, and getting comfortable beside you, a little lower down than you but tall regardless. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I can’t believe you got me flowers.” 

“I got you flowers the last time you were injured.” 

“I know,” you say with a laugh. “I know, it was amazing.” 

“Here’s your card from Jack. I’ve opened it for you, I hope that’s okay.” 

“I cannot open anything. I tried to stab my pudding open with a spoon and broke it and can’t find the sharp part in my blankets. I’m worried it’s going to poke me.” 

Hotch stands from his chair. “That’s not good.” 

You take up Jack’s card, pinching the folded printer paper and pulling all of its homemade glory from the envelope. The front has a red heart drawn with bandages wrapped around it, and inside is a message written in impressive penmanship considering his age. To Y/N, it says, Please get well soon. We are hoping you to have a speedy recovery! Love you, Jack and Aaron 

“It says you love me,” you say. 

“Mm, Jack wrote the message. He misses you.” 

You catch the feeling of Hotch’s hand where it slips between your legs and almost burst, giggling excitedly, which makes his hand jump away from you like a fish out of water. “You have the spoon!” 

“Found it. No more danger.” 

“Thank you. I knew you could find it.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The pain medication Hotch spoke of is starting to make itself known. You hadn’t felt very different to begin with, the only worthy note your absence of pain, but right now you feel weird. Light. Happy, but strange, like the opposite feeling of missing a step. You know something’s wrong and you know it’s the medication, but you’re elated at the same time. Hotch is here. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’ll know. 

“Do you think I feel happy ‘cos of you or the morphine?” you ask. Softly, slurring, you swallow and try not to sound as drunk. “I feel amazing.” 

“It’s the morphine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Well, it’s been a long time since I had some myself, but I remember feeling amazing at the time, and you’re on a lot more of it than I was.” Hotch sets himself back down in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Are you staying for long?” 

“Until they make me leave,” he says. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Yesterday you were here for ten minutes and I felt like my heart was bruised.” 

He doesn’t speak for a moment. His eyes seem darker than usual. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I had to be home to take care of Jack.” 

“I know you had to, it’s not your fault, but I still missed you.” 

You prop Jack’s amazing card on the nightstand with a proud grin. You love Jack Hotchner, he’s the smartest, kindest, sweetest boy you’ve ever met, and it must be because of his parents. You’ve not met Haley many times, but Hotch is amazing. It makes sense that his kid would be just as awesome as he is. Turning your attention back to the flowers, you find the courage to ask, “Do you think you could bring Jack to see me?” 

“I think he might be a little young for hospitals, I’m sorry.” 

“Well, maybe I can see him when I’m out of the hospital? How can I say thank you for the card? Does he still like bears?” 

“He has enough bears,” Hotch says gently. “You don’t need to buy him anything, he just wants you to get better soon.” 

“You’re such a good dad.” Your lashes kiss with the force of your smile. “You’re lovely. Jack is really kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re handsome,” you continue, slinking down in the bed. You feel tired but not sleepy, craving a really big, hot sandwich. Hotch holds your gaze. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“What?” he asks quietly. 

“Can you please get me a big, hot sandwich? Maybe with hot chicken? Or spicy chicken in a burrito? I really need it to be hot.” 

Hotch laughs aloud and reaches for your forearm to squeeze you again. “Of course I can. I’ll call Derek and I’ll make him get you both of those things, if you like.” 

“Oh, good. I really really don’t want you to leave but I really want the sandwich more than I want you to stay.” You tip your head to one side. “If you hugged me again I’d say I want you to stay more than I want the sandwich, ‘cos you haven’t hugged me in a long time.” 

“Does that bother you?” he asks, the pad of his thumb working against your wrist. 

“No, I know I’m not supposed to want you to hug me.” 

“We’re friends,” he says, shaking his head, “good friends, aren’t we? It’s alright if you want a hug. I should be better at giving them.” 

When he was with Haley you wouldn’t have dreamed of wanting it, because your affection for him has always been more than a friend‘s. You’ve guarded the secret carefully over the years. What’s more unfair to a wife than to fancy her husband? But Haley left Hotch, and he’s been single for a while now, and you think that lately he’s actively dating. He’s always had pride in his appearance, but his suits are tailored again. His hair is left to grow beyond what’s easily maintained. He and Dave occasionally joke about him getting back out there —he doesn’t need to get out there, you’re right here. 

You can’t help frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I think I’m a bad friend.” 

“You aren’t a bad friend.” 

“I am, I have ulterior motives.” 

Hotch rolls his eyes. “Honey, everybody does. You’re fine. You’re a good friend. You know you’re the sole member of the team who’s remembered Jack’s birthday every year? Remembered mine?” 

“I don’t do that to be a good friend, I just love Jack.” 

His hand slips down to yours. He holds it briefly. “I know you do.” 

“It’s why I remember yours,” you say, shaking your head, annoyed he’s taken his hand back but ready to move on to better things. “Can you ask Derek for my sandwich now, please? Please, please, I’m so hungry I’m gonna die.” 

Hotch gives you a funny look. “How about I go and get you your sandwich? I’ll be very fast. I’ll go to Sam’s across the street, would you like that?” 

“Can I have maybe a donut too?” 

“Sure, honey. I’ll get you a half dozen.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Do you want any in particular?” 

Hotch goes off to get you a sandwich and you click the button for more morphine without really thinking. You’re asleep before he gets back.

—

You wake up shaking. 

Aaron straightens in his chair. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but it’s nearing the end of your visiting hours and he’s been here since three. Your sandwich is stone cold in the bag and he’s not sure how he’ll get it warmed up.

Your arms are trembling badly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Hotch, where am I?” 

Aaron stands. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve had some morphine and it ended up sedating you. The shaking will calm down soon, but nothing’s wrong, okay?” 

You’re noticeably confused, and Aaron hates it enough to sew his fingers between yours. His are thicker by quite a bit, but he’s used to smaller hands. He’s careful with you. He can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier. 

The undercurrent of fear you’d been harbouring begins to ebb. You let Aaron hold your hand and settle back down into your sheets, turning your face toward him and shutting your eyes. You don’t seem sleepy. He’s not sure what’s wrong. 

When you say you love him, he understands. He loves you, too. He doesn’t think that he’s in love with you, but he could be. He’s had enough guilty daydreams about it, batted them away, moments doing the dishes or at the gym or when you’re standing together working a case, where he forgets to forbid himself the pleasure and imagines you in simple intimacies. He sees himself taking your hand. He pictures waking up to the smell of you on his pillows. When he’s especially pent up and you’ve haunted him with your bare face or a shy smile, he ends the day thinking of you. How he’d kiss your head with just a little of his weight atop you, or a lot. 

And then he feels so horribly wrong for doing it that he resigns himself to the distance between you forever. 

Aaron doesn’t know what you want from him, but he knows he could fall in love with you if given the chance. He has to determine how honest your morphine-confession was, and there’s no time like the present. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. 

“I brought you the donuts and a sandwich, but I’ll have to reheat it. I’m sorry.” 

“Did I ask for a sandwich?” you ask, startled.

“A hot one. You emphasised.” 

“Thank you, Aaron. I don’t think I’m hungry now, I’m kinda queasy.” 

“You had a little bit more morphine than you should’ve.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says under his breath, “that’s not your fault.” 

You squeeze his hand weakly. Any want to draw the truth from you is quickly dwindling. All he wants now is to make sure you’re okay. 

He spills himself closer to you and, without untangling your hands, brings your thin blankets to your shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay. The queasiness won’t last long. In fact, eating might help, but we can wait.” 

“Don’t you have to go home?” 

“No, I can stay if you want me to.” 

“Please, I want you to.” 

“You’re still on the morphine,” he says, rubbing your hand, “I can ask them to lower your dosage if you don’t like it, but you have to remember that it’s keeping you unaware of your pain.” 

You hesitate. “I don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Then it won’t,” he promises. You had more than your fair share of pain. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“This is all I want. For you to look after me.” 

He takes a measured breath. “I would love to look after you.” 

You turn your head half an inch to see him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” He’s trying to blend the half of him you know at work with the half of him responsible for his outer life, the part of him that flirts with beautiful women at bars, the part of him that loved being a husband. “I don’t know what you want, and now isn’t the time, but,” —he prepares to be brave— “if you want me to look after you, then I will.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

“Can you kiss me?” 

His heart skips a beat. “No, honey, I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“Not even on the head?” 

His stomach aches, but it’s a good feeling. Like worrying you lost something and finding it in the first place you’ve looked. “On the head I can do.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed in wait of his kiss, a light, chaste brush of the lips to your temple. The morphine makes you laugh, a girly, giggly bubble of it as you burrow into the sheets, like he’s tickled you. He’s twice as endeared when you squint at him like you’re waiting. 

“Can I–”

“One more,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. “Any more than that and you’ll die of embarrassment when you’re not drugged out of your mind.” 

“I’m not out of my mind. I’m just hallucinating. Or having a great dream.” 

He’s inclined to agree, but he knows with confidence he hasn’t had any heavy medication today. He gives you a fond look and sits back down, obliging you when you scramble to put your hand in his again. It’s a weight he could get used to holding.

“I really like you,” you confess quietly. 

He quite likes you in return. “That’s great, honey. Do you want to talk about it later? Maybe you can have one of your donuts.” 

You don’t take his misdirection as rejection, you just pull his hand to your chest and smile. “No thank you. I can wait.” 

He can wait too. 

[the-maid-of-witchwood]

Gimme your mermaid Pete ideas (just bullshit them, it'd be funny)

Oh, wow, I really am not prepared for this. Let’s see what I can come up with…

Following the lore I know of this AU(?)/fic idea to the best of my knowledge for this:

Initially he was really excited about being a mermaid - like think of all the discoveries and science research he could help with in this form!

As he got older, and realised the darker elements of all that stuff, it killed that enthusiasm. Possibly isn’t as fond of science subject-wise. Knowing he could be specimen if he’s caught

Richie (not so much Ruth as her questions are more sex based and just ridiculous - “where does your dick go when you transform? Does it fall off or something?”) can sometimes get a little invasive as his questions aren’t too dissimilar to a proper scientist when trying to understand this

A little insecure because stories and media always portray mermaids and merman as being exceedingly beautiful

Usually wears a t-shirt as a mermaid, at least in the beginning until he gets more confident in his body

Doesn’t have a bedroom at Ted’s, his room is literally just the second bathroom

But it’s covered in Star Wars posters and shit and has all the essentials a bedroom would need, save the bed

Ted didn’t think he needed a bedroom/bed

Kinda obvious but he will no longer eat seafood

He has permanent scars on his scales from almost getting caught by a fisherman

He has never told anyone the true story behind this, instead he just tells them he scraped himself off the side of one of Linda Monroe’s boats

He has the scar in human form too, but it’s fortunately not as obvious

There’s subsequent conspiracy theories of a mermaid in Hatchetfield but nothing concrete (to tie it to Pete, anyways)

The going theory is that it’s Zoey Chambers - young, beautiful, sings like an angel, the lore of Mima Chambers and swimming - she was the one who started said rumours. She had Hailey make a fake report about it, in the hopes it would give her more attention and more desire to be cast by directors. Pete knows; he was there at Beanie’s when she came up with the idea and told Hailey to do it

Pete gains an extreme fascination and interest in marine life post becoming a mermaid

He does a lot of swimming at night, gets as far out of Hatchetfield as he can in that time before circling back

There’s a lot of muscles that needed to be stretched and it’s not like he can do much in public or during daylight. And the bathtub at home or Ted’s is not big enough for him to do anything in

In saying that, his parents gave him a much bigger bathtub. It’s not much (because they’re not rich) but better than what he has at Ted’s, so he can at least stretch out a little

He brings back shells for Steph and sea glass for Grace from his late night adventures

Steph has attempted going with him a couple times, but doggy paddling does not make up for a lack of a tail

Ruth tries to give him voice lessons, in the hopes he’ll then be able to lure sailors and maybe let her have one or something

[mostly-imagines]

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[esote-rika]

𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Smut 18+ MDNI Summary: Bringing your boyfriend to a lingerie sale causes some big problems to arise. Luckily, you’re always down to take care of him, regardless of when and where. Content: 3.3k words, established relationship, Spencer is so so so down bad, reader is a menace, lots of banter, semi-public sex, hand job, improvised gags, unprotected p in v, needy sub!Spencer, kinda switch? Idk they’re both horny for each other, size kink, reader wears lingerie and is shorter than Spencer. a/n: not proofread + am sick, pls forgive mistakes. I just needed something light and stupid after reading THG prequels and rewatching all the movies back to back so here we are. Same girlfriend reader as the last fic. Based on my darling lover’s request.

He’s not sure how he got here.

That’s a lie. He knows exactly how he got here, why he’s here, and it’s because every single atom in his body seems to become irrationally unable to say no to you. It’s pathetic, really. You don’t even have to plead anymore—though you still do, of course, pretty eyes widening just so, lower lip pushing out into a slight pout, and it makes his heart clench and his heart swell in ways that distress him. (You’re dangerous for his health, he’s sure of it, but it doesn’t even matter. If his life is cut short, he can’t think of a better way to go than being loved by you.)

Today, you hadn’t even done that. Just words spoken in a soft little whine, “My favorite store has an ongoing sale.”

How is he to deny you? The boutique isn’t too far away, and while he’d had plans to read for his day off, he can put those off for you. He can read anywhere, at any time. In pockets of vacancy at work, idle minutes during his commute. Time with you is precious, and if you want him to accompany you to a store, then that’s precisely what he’ll do.

There’s just one problem: you hadn’t really specified what kind of store.

Would he have been able to say no if you told him from the beginning that he’d be accompanying you into a lingerie store? Survey says no, probably not, but still, the heads up would have been nice. Kind, actually, because now he’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy, surrounded on all sides by flouncy, see through fabric in suggestive cuts. Lingerie. You brought him along as you went lingerie shopping.

Here’s the thing: Spencer Reid is no prude. He has studied the human body and anatomy extensively as a young boy, and has such a vivid, graphic memory of them from his time working at the BAU. But those had always been under the guise of science, where he could step back and assess things objectively. Often, the human parts are injured, devastatingly mangled. Viewing them requires compassion and intelligence, not lust. 

He has no idea what to do with the thought of bodies in this way—scantily covered by pretty patterns and thin fabric. Your body specifically. The very idea causes a shudder through him, the familiar heat. Focus, he tells himself, hands shoved deep in his pockets, balled into tight fists. His nails bite into his palm, and he welcomes the sting, focusing on that instead of the image of you in that navy silk slip… or in the pretty purple lace set… or—

“Spence?” 

“Yes?” 

“I’m gonna try these on, okay?”

A panicked look must cross his face, because you laugh, a hand reaching out to caress his cheek.

“I won’t be long, baby. None of these clothes can hurt you, and the sales people don’t bite.”

He’d feign offense if he were in a better state of mind, but he’s a little too panicked to come up with a response. You don’t understand. The very idea of you trying on lingerie is sending some very dangerous images to his brain. Images that, in turn, are causing very physical problems. Specifically in his crotch area. Still, he’s in public. He’s a grown man with working functions and impulse control. So he nods, forces a smile on his lips. 

Satisfied, you press a quick kiss to his jaw, and hurry off to the corridor on the far corner of the boutique, where a line of fitting rooms await. He watches the bundle of lingerie in your hands. He hadn’t even noticed what you were choosing, but Spencer decides that’s for the best. It’s easier to fight his imagination if he doesn’t know the details of your choices. Easier to sit on one of the lounge chairs and fiddle with his hands, gnawing on his lip anxiously, patiently, waiting for you to reemerge with a smile that tells him you’ve made your choice. 

Still, being alone while other women mill about is making him restless. He stands, wandering over to the fitting rooms, “Angel?”

“Yeah?”

He doesn’t like being impatient, he doesn’t even mind waiting for you but god he can’t get his mind to focus. “You almost done?”

“Not yet!” 

He nods, before realizing you can’t see him. “All right, I’ll be right here then.” he answers, leaning on the wall and staring at his feet so he doesn’t seem like a random creep. But then you’re calling out to him again.

“I want to show you.”

Oh, you really are bad for his health. 

“Don’t come out!” he says quickly, looking around. The store isn’t busy, but still, the idea of other people catching sight of you makes something in his chest tighten.

A giggle, and then your head pokes through the heavy curtains, “Okay, then you come in.”

Once again, he is powerless to say no. His feet move, one in front of the other, even though his mind is telling him no, this is a bad idea, turn back. Still, he finds himself in the enclosed space with you. A full length mirror greets him, and that’s where he sees you first. Swathes of artfully arranged black lace and soft mesh fabric that barely cover your body, fastened only by thin straps over your shoulders. 

So very dangerous.

“What do you think?” your eyes meet his in the mirror, deceptively, infuriatingly innocent.

“It’s-uh-pretty.”

“Just pretty?” your head cocks to the side, lips pulled into that pout and Spencer swears the room has no more oxygen. He’s about to pass out.

“Gorgeous,” he manages to say, “Stunning, radiant, angel it fits you perfectly.” his eyes drop to your chest and the words stop abruptly, though his mouth remains slack.

You twist to the side, examining your reflection. The fabric floats around your body, giving him a view of your perfect ass underneath. The panties you have on are a baby blue, not matching the sultry, inky ivory of the slip you’re wearing, and he wants to ask why don’t they match, but no words come from his open mouth.

“Spence, baby, you’re gonna catch flies.” your teasing remark wrenches him from his reverie. You whirl around to face him, half naked and mused, the loveliest creature he’s ever seen. He manages to tear his gaze away from the mirror and focus on the real thing, and how did he ever get so lucky with you?

“No flies anywhere.” he replies, hands finding your waist. His grip is shaky, but firm. Your eyes flash with mischief and he knows he’s a goner. 

“It’s just a saying.”

“I know.” he dips his head, unable to help himself. Soft lips latch onto your jaw, open and warm, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“In this slip?” Your giggle goes straight to his groin. 

“In anything,” he pulls back, trying to reign in his desire, “In nothing.”

Your brow raises, and he lets out a soft sheepish laugh. 

“Sorry, it’s just…” he trails off, his hands rubbing your hips through the flimsy dress. Mind absolutely devoid of any thought except for how beautiful you look in this tiny piece, how it clings to your breasts and shows teasing hints of your nipples through the thin lace.

“What was that, Spence?” you murmur teasingly, stepping into his personal space. Bodies flush. The lack of distance between you, the familiar softness of your body melting into him brings his attention to the growing tightness at his crotch.

“Mhm? N-nothing.”

“Doesn’t feel like nothing.” There’s that sparkle in your eyes again, devious as you sway your hips against his carefully. The action makes his steadily swelling cock twitch with even more want. 

He has to swallow a moan, but the warning still comes out strangled, “Angel.”  Really, you’re closer to the devil right now, tempting him like this. He tightens his hold on your hips to steady you, brows furrowed as he tries to calm down. 

It’s too late though. You’re both well aware of the growing tent in his pants.

“All right,” you step back, wearing a mask of mock surrender, “Fine, no more teasing. You can go back out now, I’m gonna change again.”

“What?” 

One corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk, “I was being naughty, I’m sorry. You can go back out, I just wanted to show you this slip.”

Evil. You’re evil and dangerous and Spencer Reid is so utterly in love with you. And a little turned on by it.

“Angel, I can’t go back out there!” he whispers, tugging his tight pants. It’s no use. He’s so worked up his cock is beginning to ache in its confines. 

(Okay, so more than a little turned on.) 

Your eyes fall to his crotch, widening comically as though you’re seeing it for the first time, “Oh, would you look at that!” You step back into his space, hands coming up to cradle his jaw. He leans into your touch, welcoming your sweet mockery with his usual, eager docility. “Got worked up for me, hmm? All from seeing me in this slip?”

He nods, hands finding your hips again, holding you to him. “You knew what you were doing.” There’s absolutely no hint of accusation in his voice. You both know it’s true anyway.

“Mhm. And I can’t let you walk back out there like this, can I?” you lift yourself to your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Not after you’ve been so patient with me.”

A sharp inhale as he feels your hands on his belt. What he would give to just be completely buried in you right now, to lose his mind in your tight heat, but— “We’re in public.”

“We’re in a room.”

“A fitting room.”

“Still a room.” you’ve pushed his pants just enough to free his cock. Even being out of his pants eases some of the tension, the length springing out and jutting from his body. Long and embarrassingly red. Your hands close around it, one hand at the base and stroking up and down, the other at the tip, squeezing gently, thumb running over his slit and spreading his leaking pre cum. 

He fights back a moan and promptly loses.

“Spence.” Your voice is low, but stern, “Keep quiet.”

He nods, teeth sinking into his lower lip to contain his moans. He squeezes his eyes shut, too overwhelmed by the vision of you in nothing but a flimsy slip and panties, in this well lit, public room, giving him a hand job. No, he can’t watch, he’ll bust then and there, but he knows you’re only getting started.

Your hands work up and down his length, twisting just the way he likes, all while continuing to thumb at the tip. Unable to help it, his hips buck into your hands, shamelessly fucking your palms while his cock twitches in them. 

“Look at me,” you croon, breath hot against his neck. Once again, as though his body is wired to obey your every command, his eyes fly open. He moans immediately at the sight of you, which makes you tut disapprovingly. With a shake of your head, you stop, and he can’t help but let out a whine in protest.

“Why’d you—” “You’re too loud, baby, they’ll catch us.” 

He watches with a dazed, glassy eyed confusion as you hook your fingers through the waistband of your panties and tug the lacy blue material down your legs. Crumpled between your lovely hands, it turns into a small ball of fabric which you hold up to his mouth, “Bite down on this.”

His brain seems to snap at attention. “I-I can’t, isn’t that store property?” Leave it to his mind to worry about logistics and practicality.

You chuckle, pulling his collar down for a kiss. When his lips meet yours, he wonders why he ever questioned you.

“It’s mine,” you mumble against his mouth. A nibble at his lower lip sends tremors whispering down his spine, “We’re not allowed to try on panties in this store. Something about sanitation.”

Sanitation. The very thought makes him chuckle. It seems so insignificant now, with what they’re about to do.

Still, he accepts the explanation, and allows you to slip the crumpled panties into his mouth. He bites down, tasting hints of your arousal as the fabric meets his tongue. It becomes very clear that he needs this gag, because he immediately moans at the taste.

You giggle soundlessly, the effort to keep silent making your shoulders quiver from your laughter. “You just can’t help yourself huh?” You give his cock a few more strokes, lazy and playful, before walking over to the mirror and bracing yourself against it by your elbows. The panties nearly fall from his mouth as he watches you push your hips back, the slip riding up to expose your ass and the wet, swollen folds beneath. 

Is this heaven? It must be. Just him and his angel, who’s offering herself up and watching him intently through the reflection in the mirror.

“Come on, baby, before the sales people get suspicious.” you murmur. Your eyes flash dangerously in the mirror, but he knows it’s not a mere trick of the light. You’re getting a kick out of this too, the same way he is. 

With a choked sound, muffled by the lace, Spencer steps up behind you. Cock in hand, he lets the blunt tip glide across your soaked folds, letting your arousal mingle with his precum and coat his length. Normally, he’d use his fingers first, coax your walls into a more relaxed state, but you’re right. There’s no time for that. Someone could check up on the two of you any time. The thought makes his cock twitch, and he finally eases into your entrance, slowly pushing into the familiar warmth of your pussy.

He sees your mouth fall open from the stretch. It never gets old, this initial penetration, the way your body always seems to yield to the sheer size of him, no matter how long it has been. He knows he’s moving on borrowed time, only moments to bring you ecstasy, but still he allows himself to savor this first entrance, the tight grip of your pussy around his cock. 

And then he moves, rocking his hips back and forth, watching the mirror for your reactions, trying to make sure he’s not hurting you. But the mirror only reflects pleasure on both your faces. Your face lax, a vision of bleary eyed bliss. His own brows are furrowed with concentration as he shifts his hips, trying to hit the spot from this new angle, one where you’re upright, but bent slightly and anchored by your arms against a wall. 

One of his hands grip your thigh, lifting it up so that your knee is braced on the mirror as well, opening you up to him a little more. His cock sinks another inch deeper, teeth biting down on the panties as he feels you clench.

“Fuck!” you groan, and he knows he’s found the spot. He moves both hands on your waist, holding you steady, marveling at the way he towers over you in this position. A sense of power fills him, warm and glowing from the trust you’ve put upon him. His thrusts grow firmer, steadier, as he feels your tight pussy fluttering and clenching around him. Spencer has to fight the urge to bury his entire length in you; you’ve never done that before and he doesn’t want it to happen on some random quickie.

Still, even though he’s not all the way in, he knows he’s doing a good job, judging by the increasing gasps that leave your perfect mouth. The looming threat of being found, the promise of people beyond the heavy curtains excites him, alarmingly so. And it seems like you’re on the same boat, as you keep glancing over your shoulder, half keeping watch, half daring people to yank those curtains back and expose the debauchery happening within the tiny space of this dressing room. 

He shudders at the thought, thrusting into you more roughly than before. It sends him deep inside your walls, and a cry escapes your lips. Your gazes meet in the mirror, equally mortified, nervous, and excited. 

Spencer continues to move, fucking you in this position. If someone heard, they must have opted to ignore the sound instead, and he’s going to take advantage of that fact, bending his body over yours so that his chest is flush against your back. You clench around him in response, your body greedily eating up every inch he’s allowing himself to give you. 

“God, you’re in so deep.” you gasp, “So, so deep, feels so good.”

He recognizes this state, mindless and vocal from pleasure and he knows you're close. 

“Spence, oh my god baby, so big, you’re - oh fuck, yes!”

It makes him proud, his chest filling with a warmth only you can seem to produce, the very act of reducing you to this babbling, nearly incoherent mess but it also poses a problem. You’re becoming too loud. Too risky. In the heat of the moment, and without stopping the rhythm of his thrusts, Spencer yanks your panties out of his mouth and transfers the fabric into your own. Crumpled up, damp with his saliva, they stop the silly, pleasure drunk stream of words that have been spilling from your lips.

Your eyes meet in the mirror again, his own amused and slightly apologetic, yours barely comprehending.

“Gotta keep quiet, angel.” he murmurs, voice gravelly from disuse, “We wouldn’t want an audience.”

A whimper, smothered by your own panties, perks up his ears and goes straight to his cock. “God baby, you’re so good, letting me have you like this.” he gasps, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. 

His cock feels sensitive, ready to burst at any given moment. His thrusts become sloppy, erratic, one arm wrapping around your waist to keep you tethered to him because he can feel your legs and thighs quivering under his weight. Spencer uses his other hand to brace against the mirror, staining the once clear glass with sweat and condensation.

“Angel, ah!” he’s aware his volume is increasing as the pleasure intensifies, so he bites down on the closest possible thing—your shoulder. As teeth sink into flesh, your pussy tightens around his cock in response, and he’s done for, unraveled, spilling his cum deep into your being. He continues to thrust, recognizing the way you’re squirming against him, the nearly vice like grip of your walls on his thick length.

“That’s it,” he gasps soothing the bite with his lips and tongue, talking and fucking you through your own orgasm, “That’s it angel, come for me, please, need to feel you, that’s it, there you go.”

Normally, he’d bask in the afterglow, hold you to him until neither of you can breath and the lack of space becomes claustrophobic. But not right now. He has to remind himself you’re still in a public store, separated from people by mere fabric—heavy, curtains, sure, but still fabric. So he holds out his hand in front of your mouth, allowing you to spit out the wad of lace into his palm, and pulls out of your fluttering cunt carefully. His cock still throbs but is slowly softening. He helps you stand up.

“God, that was—I can’t believe we did that.” Spencer whispers. Unable to withhold his affection, he peppers your temple and forehead with kisses, relishing in the sweet sighs of contentment that leave your lips, now no longer cushioned by the panties.

“‘Twas so good,” you bury your face in his chest, and he holds you, supports your weight by wrapping his arms around your waist, “‘M so sweaty.”

He laughs, “Yeah, this fitting room got a little heated.”

“Ruined the slip.” you peek up at him, eyes no longer flashing with mischief but cloudy with pleasure.

“Good thing I’m buying it for you then,” he presses his lips to your sweat stained forehead, “There’s no way you’re leaving without it.”

Thank you for reading! Part of the big useless dick chronicles collection.

[mirai-lunar]

Objective: Survive.

★ A simple guide on how to survive the Invincible Variants. The stars range from one to five. One being the easiest to five being the most difficult. Fem! Reader.

Includes: Sinister Mark, Omni Mark, Mohawk Mark, No Goggles Mark, Goggles Mark, Veil Mark (Shiesty Mark), Masked Mark, Viltrum Mark

Warnings: Dark Content, Violence, Suggestive Themes, Yandere Behavior

Word Count: ~2.5k

Sinister Mark

★★★★★

-You’re fucked.

-If all the variants had a difficulty level, his would be extreme.

-One second he’s playing with your feelings. The next second he’s harshly biting into your neck.

-Your relationship in the beginning is going to be rough, if you can even call it a relationship.

-Reciprocating in any way is how you will survive.

-Bite him back. Claw at his face. Or just endure. None of these options do much, but it does amuse him. 

-One day, he returns to you, his mouth covered in blood. You mentally prepare for him to put you through hell again, but this time he just leans in close before resting his head in the crook of your neck.  

-Your body stiffens, but you don’t drop your guard just yet. 

- When he asks you what’s wrong, you frown before responding. 

- “It’s nothing. I just expected… the usual.” 

-He’d hum, his lips pressing against your skin. As he kissed your neck amorously, he’d speak swiftly.

- “You’d better get used to me. I’m not letting you leave.”

-Not a good thing to hear.

-But after that day, he’s… a bit softer with you. 

-Instead of speaking down to you, he now speaks to you. He asks some simple questions and my God, you had better respond.

-He’s possessive to the extreme. If someone just as much looks at you, then their head is coming clean off. You belong to him, and only him.

-Freedom? What freedom? You have no freedom. 

-Want to really knock him off guard? Be nice to him. Yes, this will be near impossible to do, but it will leave him trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you.

-You can survive him, just barely if you can endure. If not then…

Omni Mark

★★✩✩✩

-You’ll be fine.

-When compared to other variants, he’s a safe option. 

-He’s calm. And that eases a lot of your worries.

-Just tell him that you trust him. Simple, right?

-Whenever he returns from his… outings, and you ask him how his day was, he’d smile and respond with a simple:

- “Uneventful.” 

-The blood on his outfit says otherwise.

-He could listen to you talk for hours. About the most mundane things too.

-Any issues you have, he will attempt to solve them. Sounds good, right?

-Well…

-If you mention a person you dislike, then he will kill them. So be careful who you mention.

-Freedom? Yes, you have freedom. He trusts you. 

-Don’t break that trust though. If you attempt to run away, he will find you. Expect a frown and some words from him once he does.

- “I expected more from you, Y/n.”

- Huge ‘I’m not mad at you, just disappointed’ energy.

-Most of the time he just hovers around in the sky as you run your errands. Unless you want him to accompany you. 

-Catches you off guard. A lot.

- “Hey.”

-You gasp when you hear his voice, your phone almost slipping from your hands. You turn around to face him.

-“Mark?” You said, your eyes wide with surprise. “You scared me. How long have you been floating there?”

- “A while,” he admitted. There was a bit of amusement in his voice. “...Reading fanfiction again?”

-The shock on your face says it all.

-Will consider your feelings if something he does bothers you, but will also remind you that he is far from good. 

-You survive because he pretty much takes care of you. Not too much to do on your part. 

Mohawk Mark

★★★★✩

-In for a dangerous ride with this one.

-He’s an emperor in his world, and he gets what he wants. If he likes you he’s just going to take you. Plain and simple. 

-This is another variant that thinks he owns you.

-Sure he’ll treat you well for the most part, but this heavily depends on how you act. 

-Most of the time he doesn’t mind your frowns when you’re upset, or your occasional sassy remarks. He thinks it's adorable. 

-But if your frowns turn into looks of pure hatred, and your sass is followed up with constant anger…if you become completely unbearable to him…he will kill you.

-(Main reason he’s at 4 stars)

-If none of this applies to you, then there’s no problem. He likes you a lot.

-He’s also horny a lot. Every night you don’t sleep with this gremlin he’s complaining about it. Good luck. 

-Freedom? Sure, you have freedom. You found a simple loophole. He leaves often, so just leave right after he leaves. 

-And be back before he gets back.

-If you’re not back when he calls for you then…

- “Where the fuck is she?!”

-Once he finds you… Privileges. Are. Gone. It only takes one screw up.

- “I wasn’t trying to run away,” you explained. “I was making my way back when you found me.” 

- “Sure you were. You can’t fucking fool me, Y/n.” 

-Whether what you were saying is true or not doesn’t matter to him.

- When he calls you by your actual name, and not some nickname, then you know he is not happy. 

-But if you apologize (and mean it) he’ll give you a few freedoms back. Definitely not all though. You’ll be at his side a lot more often now. 

-Just make sure he doesn’t find you if you plan on running away.

-Will you survive? Well, it depends on how you act. Just stroke that ego of his and you’ll be fine.

No Goggles Mark

★★★✩✩

-In for a wild ride with this one.

-This variant’s personality is chaotic, but lucky for you, he isn’t out to ruin your life. He just likes to have fun.

-If you can’t match his energy, let him know asap. This will save you a lot of emotional distress.

- “I’m not Invincible like you, Mark,” you calmly told him. “Could you be a bit… well a lot more careful with me?”

- “Okay! :)”

-He does care. So just talk to him whenever you’re scared. He will stop whatever he’s doing to respond. 

-Heck, he could be in the middle of destroying half a block of buildings, and come back to you for a split second to ask you how you’re doing. It’d be kinda sweet, if he wasn’t so destructive. 

-He’s a thrill seeker! So if your ideas are fun and/or challenging, then he’s on board. 

- “How fast can you fly to space and back?” You ask him. 

- “Just watch!” 

- Boom! Anddd he’s gone. 

-Freedom? Yes! You can do things! But you’re both doing those things together.

-You’ll almost always be around him, unless the situation is too dangerous for him to take you. 

-The best way to survive is to reciprocate his love for you. Tell him you love him too. Hug him. Rub his hair. 

-You could use his love for you to your advantage…

-For example, if you want to get away from him, just convince him to leave you somewhere you deem safe, and assure him you’ll be there when he gets back. 

-The second he leaves you race off.

-High risk though. If he finds you, you had better come up with a good excuse. If the excuse is good, then you’re fine. If not then…

-”You’re not trying to get away from me, are you Y/n?”

-That other side of him is terrifying. 

-If your personality is chaotic like his, you two will get along just fine. 

-”I always hated that place,” you grumbled, looking at the building you once worked at. He lit up.

“Want me to destroy it?” He asked you. You also lit up.

“Sure!”

-If you’re level-headed, you two would make for an interesting dynamic.

- “Let’s not jump off this building today Mark. I just finished eating,” you calmly told him.

- “Aww, well can we at least jump off a smaller building?” he asked. You sighed.

- “Well alright. As long as you hold on to me.”

-Your days will always be filled with chaos, but you’ll survive. 

Goggles Mark

★★★★✩

-Uh oh.

-This variant is manipulative and sadistic. You’re gonna have a bad time. 

- He won’t kill you, but he won’t hesitate to kill the people you love. 

-You could go on a long rant about how much of a monster he is and he’d just sigh. 

- “Well that was pointless Y/n,” he’d tell you. “You should consider thinking a bit more before responding so harshly to me.”

-He says this and he was the one that kidnapped you??

-The best thing to do in this situation is to try and get the fuck away.

-The next best thing is to remain calm, and try to reason with him.

-If you’re nice, then he’ll listen to what you have to say. That doesn’t mean he’s going to do what you say though, he’ll just listen. 

- You could trade affection for things you want. He actually likes this idea if you mention it. 

-Freedom? Haha… No. 

-You’re stuck with him. 

-If you somehow manage to get away from him, he’d actually be impressed. 

- “How long have you been planning that escape, Hm? A few days? Weeks?” He’d ask you.

-You’d remain quiet, refusing to reveal anything just in case you need to try it again. 

-After that though, the situation gets worse. You’ll have to literally beg him to let you do things. And if you get overwhelmed and burst into tears he’ll think you’re cute. 

-Will you survive? Yes. Will you have horrible trauma? Absolutely.

Veil Invincible (Shiesty Mark)

★★✩✩✩

-You’d be fine with him. 

-He’s arrogant, but not towards you. He’s the type that would get along with any personality. 

-If you're sassy? He thinks you’re funny.

-Shy? He’ll do the talking. 

-Confident? He’ll feed off your energy.

-Just don’t be a killjoy though! He’s not a fan of people who spoil the fun. 

-Freedom? Yes, you have freedom! Don’t go too far though. And yell if you need him!

-If you actually do end up yelling for help, he’ll be by your side in less than a second. You’ll have to stand behind him as he beats whomever was threatening you into a bloody mess. 

-If you try running away, he’ll also be by you in a second, lifting you off the ground in a playful, yet warning manner.

- “Anddd where do you think you’re going?” He'll ask you. You sheepishly rub the back of your head. 

- “Nowhere.” 

-He thinks you're the cutest thing ever. 

-Want to throw him off guard? Lift that veil of his ever so slightly and kiss him on his jaw. He loves it.

-If you’re kind then that’s a plus. Heck, you can even be mean to him sometimes. It isn’t too much of a problem. Just don’t make it a habit. 

-“There’s only so much a person can take for fuck’s sake.” 

-He wouldn’t hurt you. But he would revoke flight privileges. So if you’re mean often, you’ll have to walk often. 

- “My feet are killing me,” you grumbled, trudging on the ground. He’d respond from the sky above, laughing a little. 

- “Just apologize and I’ll fly you the rest of the way!” 

-You’ll survive. He can’t stay mad at you. 

Masked Mark

★✩✩✩✩

-You’re safe with him. 

-He cares about you a lot.

-If he’s ever worried about something, just hold his hands and tell him that everything is going to be alright. That always puts him at ease.

- You are his everything. He loves you so much. You could be glaring daggers at him and he still thinks you're precious.

-Freedom? Well, yes and no. 

-As long as it’s safe, then yes, you can go do some things. But he’s going with you. If it’s not safe? Then no, he’ll go for you instead. 

-And please, stay put while he’s gone. 

-If you don’t, then he will panic.

- “Y/n, I’ll take you where you want to go. You don’t have to run off,” he murmured. You frowned before responding. 

- “What if I don’t want to go with you?” 

- “You have to. It’s too dangerous.”

-He’s fine with you being mad at him, he kind of expects it.

-But if you actually like him, then the two of you would be inseparable. He’ll rest his head on your lap as you speak to him. 

- “You worry too much Mark. We’re here together, that’s all that matters.” 

- “...Yeah. Thanks Y/n.”

-He always treats you well, and will help you with any problems you face. Just ask, and he’ll be there. 

-You often forget that he’s dangerous because he’s so kind to you. He's a completely different person when you're not around.

-You’ll survive, regardless of how you act. He won’t let you die while he’s breathing. 

Viltrum Mark

★★★★✩

-Oh, you’ll survive. 

-Ironically, he’s probably the safest option.

-Mainly because he wouldn’t let anyone near you, let alone touch you.

-But you trade your freedom for safety.

- “All you have to do is listen and obey. Do I make myself clear?” He told you. 

-That cold look of his left you uneasy. 

-While he’s very direct, he does care for you. You’re left unaware of this little fact though.

-Freedom? Heavily depends on how you act. If you do what he says then he’ll let you do a few things. If not, then no. 

-You can be a bother to him, but if anyone else calls you that…

-“If you speak of her in that way again, I’ll rip off your head.”

-He doesn’t care who it is. Hell, it could be another viltrumite. Disrespecting you means disrespecting him. And he never tolerates disrespect. Sometimes, he doesn’t even bother to speak, he just immediately goes in for the kill.  

-To survive in the beginning, it’s best to just do what he says. After sometime maybe you could be a bit more rebellious. 

-You can also melt that icy exterior of his if you’re sweet. When you two are sitting alone, just rest your head against his arm. Or cuddle up to him. His body will stiffen at the warm affection. 

- “Thanks for sticking up for me,” you murmured. He remained quiet for a bit before responding. 

- “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so bothersome.”

- “I know. Thanks a lot though.”

- “....”

-Overtime, he expresses his love for you. It may take a while though, depending on how you act. 

-You’ll survive, no problem. He’ll make sure of it. 

~

*Says I'm not writing about so many variants anymore.

*Proceeds to write about 8 of them. Smh.

[eli0004]

Pervert!Armin HCs

Includes: Sub!Armin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: masturbation, objectification, perv armin, gaslighting, fantasizing, oral(fem!recieving), face sitting, praise, humiliation, exhibitionism, virgin!armin, begging, manipulation

When you first meet Armin, it’s easy to be enchanted by his big blue puppy eyes, his cherub cheeks, that little button nose. He looks like the epitome of innocence, but do not be fooled.

You’ll begin to notice how his those same sparkly baby blues tend to sneak glances at any part of you that might be exposed; shoulders, breasts, stomach, legs.

If you attempt to draw attention to his sneaky peeks at your body, he’ll blush and sputter and deny it, and you can’t seem to tell if he’s actually embarrassed, or just gaslighting you.

Make no mistake, Armin is a sweetheart. He’d never want to come across to you as perverted- even if deep down, he knows that’s exactly what he is.

But when he’s at home, locked away in his bedroom all alone, only the filthiest thoughts cross his mind. It starts with remembering how you smiled at him today, how it made him feel when you locked your eyes on his, how you told him he’s funny- no one ever thinks Armin is funny.

And then, the way your tits bounced when you laughed, the way the pendant on your necklace sits so snug between them. How you were wearing a fitted T shirt today, and they looked so round and soft. Your hips, the way your thighs spread when you sit down. Ugh…

He wants you to sit on his face and crush his head between those thighs, he wants to feel them tremble under his palms when he makes you cum.

He wants to watch your eyes roll back while you ride his dick, tits bouncing in his face when you’re telling him he’s such a gooood boy. He shivers at the thought

Your voice, calling him a good boy, calling him names. Even if they’re not so nice.

He’d even be your little bitch if you wanted, your filthy, disgusting, dirty little bitch. The thought of it makes it difficult not to stroke his cock. He’s aching for it.

He thinks, you’d be impressed by how much he knows for a virgin, how skilled he is at pleasing you. You’d probably figure out pretty quickly how desperate he’s been to fuck. He just has to know what it feels like.

He thinks about how humiliating it would be for you to see him like this, he considers lending you something and “forgetting” to take it back, leaving his door unlocked so you’d walk in on him.

He moans out loud at the thought, maybe you’d be so turned on you’d offer to help him out. He just needs you on top of him, touching him, kissing him, fucking him…

He’s going to have to figure something out, he can’t keep running home and beating his dick every time you talk to him, he thinks it may fall off at this rate. Pure desperation, he thinks, and it’s pathetic, but what if you like him that way?

All he knows is, one way or another, he needs to come up with something. He likes you a lot and he’s pretty sure you like him back, but there’s gotta be a way to get you like this. He’d get on his knees and beg if he wasn’t worried it would be off putting.

He’d do anything at this rate, anything, just to be so lucky to touch your skin.

[physalian]

Avoiding Plot Holes by Seeding Doubt

Having an “expert” character conveniently fuck up right when the plot needs it to happen, when they otherwise would never, always loudly looks like the hand of the author sabotaging things. Which is exactly what’s happening.

However, if you set up that scene in a way where that fuckup is possible and warranted, you can turn “this is so contrived” to “omg I knew that was going to happen”.

Some suggestions!

Firstly, if we’re dealing with humans, humans are not machines. Variability in skill even at the expert level happens. Go watch the Olympics or any professional sporting event and people have terrible days all the time.

In fiction, a conveniently terrible day because that’s just how this works doesn’t fly. Diablos ex machinas tend to go over easier than deus ex machinas, but a character failing at a critical challenge in the narrative for no reason screws with a lot of the tension and expectations. “For no reason” takes no effort by the author to set up and pay off, and it reads as cheap.

Behavioral variables

I am a novice archer. I write expert archers. I do not write supernaturally accurate archers. From the very beginning of my story, my expert, with four centuries of experience, isn’t nailing perfect kill shots with every hit. A) he doesn’t need to and B) leaving his enemy to die slowly and painfully is a low he will absolutely stoop to if he thinks it’s warranted.

He’s as good as he has to be and if he gets the job done, he doesn’t care if it’s a little messy. Him being messy and overconfident is what gets him in the end, too. If he’s trying, he’ll do better, but most of the time “eh, I got close enough, they’ll die eventually” is his mindset.

“Expert” in fiction being “this is a character who will reliably pass the challenges set up for them by the narrative”.

So if you have an “expert,” allowing them to get a little bit lazy and overconfident, or simply not think of themselves as needing to be perfect in a given situation, you allow yourself a lot of wiggle room for them to majorly fuck up.

Doesn’t work very well if I throw my archer into an archery tournament, but I haven’t done that, and I’ll get to that later.

Environmental variables

Using the archery example once again: Archery is finnicky and precision is key. So if you’ve got your archer, or any marksman, in a windy environment, they have to work that much harder to factor in the wind when setting up their shot.

If it’s rainy, or the sun’s in their face, or it’s dark, or it’s loud and they can’t focus, these things aren’t exact data points the audience is going to do the math on. Or, if they and their enemy are moving, which, in combat, is highly likely.

Physiological variables

Maybe your character didn’t get enough sleep, or they’re stressed about this moment, they’re cracking under the pressure, they’re doubting themselves, the enemy got into their head, or they’re distracted worrying about something else. Or they got drunk the night before, they ate too much or too little. They’re sick, their hands are sweaty, they’ve got a sinus headache. They’ve got cramps, or hot flashes, or earlier they pulled a muscle and it still tweaks.

These are all, once again, introducing doubt into the narrative so that, when they fuck up as the plot demands, the audience should consider “well they weren’t at their best, I believe it”.

—

The sloppy way to do this is to go, in the moment:

“But because it was windy, X missed his shot”.

Is this the first time the reader is learning that it’s windy? Pretty convenient to introduce it right as it becomes important.

Rather, establish your variable beforehand in a disconnected moment. Try to ground it to a different element, otherwise it might look like it’s being mentioned for no other reason than “this is important”. Or, if it’s environmental, bury it with the other sensory descriptors.

When establishing the scene and setting, casually mention how the wind is interacting with the characters—making their hair a mess, throwing pollen everywhere, making skirts billow, etc.

Have another character complain about this variable bothering them

Have the character instantly regret the decision they made the night before for unrelated reasons. Like, if they got drunk, now they’ve still got a headache.

Depends on the story and the audience, of course, but I personally think having the narrator explicitly call out the variable fuckery going on reads a bit hammy. I like letting the audience figure out what went wrong with the clues I give.

If the scene demands, I'll also let my characters get annoyed and upset about their shots going wrong and blaming the environment. So long as it's not "hand of the author here to tell you what went wrong" you've got options.

I wouldn’t pull this trick too many times, otherwise your “expert” ends up consistently not an expert and then their sudden success looks suspect and contrived.

If you are writing some sort of tournament where this character is deliberately setting themselves up for success and is considering all these variables… a great example I like is Todoroki vs Bakugo in My Hero Academia season 2.

Dude is an uncertain mess throughout the rest of his tournament once his “fuck you dad I’m gonna win by half-assing it” suddenly isn’t enough to beat Midoriya. He’s forced to face some Tragic Backstory and it throws him off his game—establishes doubt.

He has a string of successes once he starts taking baby steps with the other half of his powers, and in the finale, he’s up against someone where he really does have to give it his all if he wants to win. His brute force powers are up against someone who has honed his very specific and powerful abilities for a decade.

And he can’t do it.

The final fight stops being a matter of power metrics and who would win if they both were competing at their best with all the tricks in their playbook available, which is what most of the tournament had been up to this point.

Basically—it stops being a numbers game, and starts being an emotional one. If you have a character you need to fail at something, but who wouldn’t otherwise, consider shifting the battle from external to internal, so the task failure is just the catalyst for the real meat of the story: what this loss means to this person in the long run.

**Side note there are of course a ton of anime tournament fights probably better than this one, Rock Lee’s whole arc against Gaara is one of them, I just don’t remember it well enough to comment on it.

Not every reader is going to be savvy enough to go “well that’s going to be important later”. Use betas and editors to help gauge how vague or obvious your foreshadowing is.

But even if you have readers sussing out your foreshadowing: Part of the fun is figuring out how the journey will end, even if we know when and where. Otherwise tragedies and prequels wouldn’t be made.

The dramatic irony of knowing variable fuckery is at play when the character is unaware can be so fun as the audience. Horror films are kind of built on it.

[jeanbie]

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.

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 too 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.

No wonder Norm is always in a terrible mood. You find that his notes on the cells found in the mossy undergrowth of the forest is as chaotic as it can possibly be, which has left you using Grace’s Bible on Pandora botany as a guide and squinting to find the connections between his barely legible notes.

It’s basic knowledge that when cells die and a genetic material begins to unfold, a charge of energy is released; this concept has been the fundamental structural point to Norm’s notes on the moss and how each step at night causes a ricochet of expanding light, but there has to be something more than everybody is missing. Even in Grace’s book, there’s not enough information regarding how it works; if it’s connected to Eywa, if it is a response to another organism, whether it breathes and lives as its own entity.

Alongside Norm’s notes, you very sparingly begin to make an analysis of the communicative features of Pandora plant life, and begin jotting a vocabulary to use in a later research assignment, when a sudden knock against the glass above your head makes you jump quite literally up and out of your seat.

The Hallelujah Mountains are so isolated from the rest of the human population on Pandora and used rarely by the Na’vi during the night, but you distinctly make out Jake’s looming form standing outside with a smile on his face and relax. His skin is a bioluminescent explosion of colour, and for a moment you’re struck dumb staring at him until he waves his hand as if beckoning you outside.

You throw a cautious look over your shoulder, but the lab is silent and still. With that in mind, you reach for one of the exo-packs and shrug on your cardigan hanging on the back of the chair you were just on and hesitantly begin to make your way outside.

Very sparingly have you been outside of Site 26 to explore, and never once on your own. Grace has drilled into you the strict importance of respecting the laboratory rules and curfew, and if you’re going to wander outside after hours in the name of research, then please, wake her up too. 

But you won’t be alone out there, not when Jake is waiting for you outside.

Jake drops to a squat in anticipation when the airlock doors to the lab force open with a wheezy breath, and he sees you cautiously step out and secure a button on your cardigan in place. The gesture almost makes him croon. He rarely sees you at night since he’s learned the value of getting rest in between his adventures in his avatar, but now he can’t believe what he’s been missing out on seeing past his bedtime.

You look tired, your hair out of place and messy, but he recognises your attempt to look more alert when you step towards him with a slight bounce.

“Hey, tìyawn,” he calls to you, as you stare up at him even whilst drawing near. Thanks to the crouch, you’re about eye-to-eye, and he watches your expression widen with wonder as you map out the illustrations of light across his nose and cheeks, before sweeping to his forehead, then his neck, and then his bare chest.

“Hey, yourself,” you laugh, finding his eyes again as they glow in the low light. The Pandora skies are littered with stars and balls of unimaginable white light, but even the surrounding forest gathering around the lab to protect it from the harsh dropping winds of the mountains are pulsing with purple light, every single shrub and leaf and plant glowing with life.

Jake stares at you for a moment before producing a gift from behind his leg. You take it from him with a wide and gasping smile.

“No way!”

“Way,” Jake says, watching you handle the flower with so much care that one might assume it would break with your touch. With the way Jake was swinging it around on his way up here, he’s actually shocked that it’s still in one piece, but something in the way you respond to everything Jake does or brings tells him that even if he’d brought a portion of it, you’d be just as pleased.

“Thanks,” you say, turning slightly as you tell him you’re going to put the tsawksyul in the lab for safe-keeping. But Jake reaches his arm out to trap you from leaving, cocking his head to the side with a soft smirk when you round back on him curiously.

“It’s not gonna die if you leave it out here, it’s a flower,” Jake tells you, jerking his head in another direction. “Wanna look around with me?”

You pause, and he can tell you’re genuinely conflicted. Grace said not to leave the vicinity under any circumstances out of respect for the Na’vi and the lab rules. But she also said not to go outside without her, and here you are.

“Grace will be mad if she finds out I’m gone,” you tell him slowly.

“Probably.”

“And Norm.”

Jake feels a rush of something at the mere mention of your brother, and his tail swishes against the rocks behind him. 

Jake leans closer to you. “Well, him I don’t care about.”

Mindful of the plant in your hand, you gently push Jake’s chest back until he rolls on his heels, unable to fight the smile on your own face.

“…Where will we be going? I can’t go far just in case Grace wakes up and comes looking for me.”

Jake tilts his head up to the sky and to the top of the mountain peak that houses the lab. From his own experience scouting up there, Jake knows there’s a small incubation of trees that offers a compelling view of the entire mountain range, as well as offering a minor collection of plants he thinks you’ll die over once you see.

But that just wouldn’t be as evil as what he originally had planned. He then rolls his head towards the small section of trees that border the back of the lab, close to where the bunks are, and he then looks back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“We’ll stay close,” Jake promises. 

You hesitate once again and guiltily look at the lab. It’s not like it’s going anywhere…

“Alright,” you sigh, looking back at Jake and watching his smile widen as if he’s just obtained a great victory. There’s no room in your stomach for suspicion to grow — it’s overrun with butterflies when Jake points his head in the direction of the snug tree line and holds out his finger for you. 

You stifle a laugh and reach to hold it, setting the tsawksyul on the ground tucked under the same window he just scared you from and join him on the slow walk to wherever he means to take you.

Being with Jake has always felt easy, but being with Jake’s avatar is practically uncharted territory. It’s a struggle to remember that it is actually the same man you like so badly back in the lab, the same guy who deliberately rams your ankles with his wheelchair just to watch the way you catch yourself as you fall, the same guy who you think uses you as a factor to piss off your brother but in a way that you find strangely attractive. 

Now, he’s an almost ten foot Na’vi leading you in the whimsical dark towards a cluster of trees, and you don’t know how to begin separating the feelings you have for Jake from the feeling of nerves you feel around his alter ego.

You can barely make out Jake’s face all the way above your head, not until he feels your stare and looks down at you beside him. There’s a similarity in his human expressions with his Na’vi ones, which is fortunate considering there was a time where you thought the avatar looked more like Tom than it did Jake. Now that they’re one in the same, and now that Jake is in front of you in his avatar form and the feelings you have for him are still lingering, you’re beginning to accept the likeness between the two of them. 

“What did you do today?” you ask him, referring to his ritualistic training with Neytiri.

Jake hums thoughtfully. “Nothing compared to Norm, I’m sure.”

At that, you laugh. “I’m seriously asking, Jake.”

“Alright… Neytiri has me reading the signals of the forest whenever we go hunting,” he explains sparingly, seeming not in the mood to talk training now that you’ve reached the lay of forest near the back of the lab. He surveys the setting and the space between the lab and the fringe of leaves and bushes and nods, as if satisfied but then pulls you deeper into the thrush of leaves.

“She says everything’s connected,” he continues. “She also says I’m a terrible shooter.”

“You’re missing your shots?” you tease. Jake turns back to you with a grin that you honestly walked into when you asked.

“Not all of ‘em.”

After the short walk, Jake is finally satisfied with the burrow of bushes and rocks that outline the small selection of forest behind the lab, and he looks up to once again gauge the distance and is pleased when the lab doesn’t look too far away. Jake hears you rustle and sit on one of the low rocks with your knees to your chest, and then drops to his usual squat in front of you, arms rested on his knees, gently fiddling with his fingers.

“How’re your cells?” he asks, but you’re so busy gazing at the forest around you and the stars above your heads that he fears you’re not even listening. Jake instead settles for watching you.

He knows he’s in over in his head when even his avatar likes you. Jake’s had nowhere near as much experience navigating his way around how to use this body than the other drivers, let alone time to understand the signals his body sends him or the feelings different things have to him, but he can tell the difference between being you friendly and not, even when he’s not totally familiar with how it all works. And on top of that, there are so many random variables to being Na’vi to get his head around that he never even thought of until Neytiri or Grace filled him in on what the hell was going on with his body at certain times of the month.

He’s stupid sometimes, true, but not totally naive. Jake recognises the tug in his chest as he looks at you — he feels the same thing when he’s in his human body. He’s no expert on Na’vi, never claimed to be, but he feels there must be something instinctive in the way he feels for you and the way his avatar senses it. And with Norm’s fresh-faced hatred in full flush whenever Jake makes that fact known, he’s not at all surprised that those feelings have suddenly become so full frontal now that he’s had enough of Norm’s bullshit.

“It’s amazing out here,” you say, to Jake but also to the wind as you completely crane your head up to look through the cracks in the branches and leaves. “Don’t you ever wish Earth had looked like this?”

“I haven’t really thought about Earth since I left,” he confesses, shuffling closer to you while you’re occupied with mapping out the stars in the sky.

“Not once?” You look down at him. If you’re taken aback by the sudden closeness between you, you hide it well. 

Jake shrugs. “Nothing I need is there.”

Fair enough. You stare at him for a moment and think about that before agreeing. 

“Me too.”

The branches above your heads sway in a gentle breeze and Jake watches you hug your cardigan around yourself before asking, “So, why’re we here? Did you wanna show me something?”

“What, the stars not enough for you?” Jake looks up to the sky.

You laugh quietly. “I’ll never get enough of them, actually. Beats the lab ceiling by a long shot. Looking at the stars through the window’s not the same… I wish I didn’t have to use this mask—” You throw him a playfully exasperated look, “—I wish I had an avatar.”

“Why don’t you?” Jake’s never asked, never thought to ask. But you’re the only scientist in his close collective of scientist ‘friends’ who doesn’t actually drive an avatar, and is instead limited to just studying everyone else's.

“It was never really my thing,” you explain, settling comfortably atop the rock and throwing the glances to the sky away to focus on him. Like the lab, they’re not going anywhere, and the ones tattooing Jake’s skin are far more interesting. “Okay, that’s a lie. I think the avatars are fascinating, just like the Na’vi, but sometimes you take what you’re given when you’re given it. Norm has always had to be better than I am, always one step ahead. Plus, our inheritance only stretched as far as to cover the contract costs of one avatar driver.” You laugh, “And Norm’s older.”

“Damn, so we just got stuck with Norm,” Jake comments, only to make you laugh again, which thankfully works. “I’d have a better time out here if it were you and not him.”

“He’s actually very insecure about that,” you tell him, watching his amusement grow without knowing the exact reasons for why. “He always goes on about how your avatar is much more built. I guess Tom was just more athletic and the avatar reflects it, I don’t think Norm’s used so much as an elliptical since high school… Anyway, he’s very vocal on how unfair the avatar program is in that regard.”

“You agree with him?”

Jake’s fingers ghost across your ankle.

“One: he’s my brother, and I’m not going to answer that question honestly. And two: let’s not forget who the avatar is modelled off. Tom was very handsome.”

“Growing up, I was always the pretty twin.”

You hum. “I couldn’t tell.”

Jake’s never ever considered the fact of you knowing his brother well before he died. He’s never had to think about it before, not until now, but he pushes the thought away and falls back into the thoughts of what he came here to do in the first place.

“You don’t think I’m handsome?”

He watches your grin widen. “I didn’t say that, did I?”

Jake creeps forward slightly, and this time you notice, moving your toes back further towards your bum on the rock while Jake continues his close creeping. 

“I think you’re a very pretty woman,” Jake murmurs. “Beautiful, even.”

“Norm’s not here to get mad at you for saying that,” you remind him.

“‘m not saying it for Norm to hear.”

You feel Jake’s hand sliding to wrap around your ankle and you shudder when he smooths his way up to your calf. You’ve never interacted with any Na’vi like this before, never felt their skin pushing against your own. With a glance down at his hand, you frown and work your way back up to his face, his eyes lit up in the dark.

“It’s not fair that you’re using your avatar against me right now,” you mutter, making him laugh through his nose and bring his body closer to the round edge of the rock. He considers it progress when you remain rooted in place once his hands run up the length of your legs to your waist.

You watch his nostrils flare slightly as he observes you, which only makes you feel more nervous and trapped here.

“All I’m doing is talking,” says Jake.

You scoff at him. “Does all your talking involve hands on the waist, Sully?”

He shrugs. “Only with really pretty people.”

Jake’s ears prick when you sigh and look back up at the stars. He doesn’t move his hands, but he senses your body tensing beneath his touch, smells the change in your body as he speaks. He’d love that part of being Na’vi a lot more if he knew what those changes meant exactly, and he can’t figure it out even as he stares at you intently.

His thumbs smooth from left to right, feeling the nub of your ribcage with every stroke over your tank top and tries to level his face into one of absolute neutrality when you look back down at him. 

“What are you doing, Jake?”

Not what he was expecting you to say, if he’s being honest.

“Nothing,” he says.

“You’re being weird,” you reply, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. It has the opposite effect, and you watch him struggle not to smile. His hairline raises when his brows do, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes when you figure him out, “Did you actually bring me out here just to flirt with me?”

He does nothing except look at you, as if the answer is painfully obvious and you’re stupid for not realising it sooner.

You sigh loudly. “Jake, I’m sorry that you didn’t get the memo like everybody else, but you didn’t need to lure me out the lab in your avatar if you wanted to get my attention.”

His thumb continues to move and his eyes drop slightly.

“I wouldn’t say I lured you out here,” Jake replies. You watch his eyes zero back in on yours and you fight your body against the urge to wrap up and hide from him. 

“You can’t be that stupid, I refuse to believe it,” you laugh disbelievingly, which makes him raise his brows questioningly. Even with a layer of plastic obstructing your face from his, Jake can’t get over how pretty you look. “You have to know that I like you even when you’re not a big blue alien.”

Jake’s grin widens, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I know. You’re really bad at hiding it.”

“Okay,” you say, feeling under your cardigan for his hands and attempting to wrestle them away, but he doesn’t budge. You laugh again, as if the whole thing is genuinely funny for you, “then you can always make your thoughts about that known when I see you in the lab. In person.”

“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t in there if I had the chance,” Jake tells you, moving his hands but only to sandwich them between your tank and your skin. The feeling of his palms flat against your stomach makes you jump slightly and reach for his wrist. 

“Please. I see you every single day.”

“Yeah, and your brother, and Grace, and Trudy,” Jake points out. “I can’t get a second alone with you. What would you have me do, make a move with your brother breathing down my neck about it?”

“You could just be upfront. Save me from looking like an idiot.”

“Come on, baby, let’s be real.”

The smile he has on his face is unmoving, and you search every corner of it to find signs of his sincerity falling and find nothing. But something feels wrong.

You’ve spent close to two months in the long shadow drawn by everything else in Jake’s life, and considering Jake’s newfound role of future Omatikaya warrior, you feel that the time he spends in your company has become less and less. So now that Jake has decided to pick up on whatever signals you were sending him and respond to them, you assume it’s all in the name of good fun to piss off Norm.

Feeling Jake’s hands creeping up your body in the middle of the Hallelujah Mountains and with no older brother here to glare at either of you, you’re rethinking everything you thought you had figured out.

“I don’t get it,” you say finally. 

Jake just laughs quietly. “You thought I just rammed my wheelchair into your feet for fun?”

“You mean to tell me that was your way of showing interest?” you ask unconvincingly.

“…Nah. I liked watching you fall, though,” he grins. Jake picks himself up from his squat and looms over you like a shadow, watching you fall back onto your forearms as you stare up at him. He sets one knee between your legs and leans down slightly, breathing in deeply in a way that has you thinking he’s actually sniffing the air around you. 

“Honey, I’m all kinds of obsessed with you.”

You blink. “You certainly gave nothing away.”

“I bring you shit all the time.”

“I’m a scientist, I didn’t know you did that because you liked me. I thought it was just because I wanted better samples than Norm.”

“I mean, that definitely helped motivate me to find everything.”

“You never even told me you liked me.”

“Well, I’m telling you now.”

“Okay, well, tell me tomorrow when you’re awake and not all…big,” you frown. 

Jake chuckles. “You don’t like me now, or something?”

“I definitely never said that. I just want to hear human Jake Sully tell me how he feels without using his avatar to try and win me over.” 

Jake’s tail swishes behind him. “You prefer the dummy in the wheelchair?”

“I like your wheelchair,” you tell him quietly, running your hand up his arm as he pins you flat against the boulder with a hand on your stomach. 

“I don’t,” he murmurs. “I like being like this. I like being bigger than you. I like smelling how much you like me.”

All of a sudden, your legs swing shut around him and you look at him in disbelief.

“Freak.”

All he does is smile. 

“Come on, Jake, I actually don’t have time for this,” you say around a groan, trying to move against him but failing miserably. An exasperated smile falls on your face. “Really? What are you even trying to achieve? You’re seducing me with your avatar?”

His ears twitch and he angles his head to the side. “Yes?”

“Why am I getting the impression that all of this has something to do with Norm somehow?” you sigh in reply, but Jake notices the way you fall relaxed underneath him, and he has the feeling you’re in no real hurry to get anywhere else tonight. 

“Well, it might have something to do with it,” Jake confesses, his voice lower than it was before as he draws his nose close to you and takes a deep inhale. The feeling of his braid flicking down from his back and brushing against your thighs makes you shudder, not to mention the feeling of his snout against your collarbones. “Really, I just want to spend some time with my girl while I got the chance to.”

Whatever you want to say or have planned to say dies away when you feel Jake’s lips wander and press against your sternum. 

Sighing, you shift your hands to his arms that have you pinned down and carefully squeeze. “Good luck with that, Sully.”

He runs his tongue flat against your skin and hears you exhale through your nose, a noise of satisfaction muffled by your closed mouth, and all at once, Jake’s decision is final.

He is going to fuck Norm’s sister. 

And he’s going to rub salt on Norm’s wounds by doing it in the way that will piss him off the most.

Jake kisses his way down the length of your body, his hands moving around your figure like a sculptor until his hands find their way to your thighs. Though oversized and covering most of them, Jake’s hands circle around the width of your thighs and he strokes his thumbs across the inside skin of them, all while laughter bubbles in your chest.

All of this is just so absurd. If someone had told you this morning that Jake so much as liked you back, it would have taken some convincing, but if they had gone as far as to suggest he’s be attempting to seduce you in his avatar in a little chunk of forest behind the lab you pretty much live in, you would have laughed at the delusion of the thought. But now, there’s no denying the very tangible view of Jake’s Na’vi hands pressing down on your thighs, his eyes staring up over the slope of your body as you pick your head up to look down at him.

“This is crazy,” you gasp.

Jake’s teeth reveal themselves against the stretch of skin he was just pressing kisses onto, his smile widening as he speaks. “You don’t want to, baby?”

You weigh your options. It’s either leave and go back to the lab and hope that Jake follows through on his apparent feelings for you in the morning… Or you can relax and enjoy.

“Jake…” You pause for a moment. You want to enjoy it, and you feel the pool of desire deepen inside of you and know it’s a sensation Jake can most likely smell. 

He’s still your Jake, still the same guy you dote over when he remembers he has a life outside of being Na’vi. The only difference now is that he’s blue, and mobile, and double your size in every definition of the word. And suspiciously attractive, but you don’t know for certain if you think that because it’s Jake or because it’s actually true as a fact. But you just can’t help but wonder if Jake’s climaxing feud with Norm is the only reason he’s pinning you to a boulder in the forest and kissing your stomach. 

“You’re not just doing this to piss off Norm, are you?” you ask, feeling serious all of a sudden. The only way you know Jake notices is from the way his ears flatten against his head and his eyes grow round with concern. 

In the light, his tail flicks from side to side in the way you recognise most Na’vi do when they’re nervous, and you fight the urge to look away from him when he stays quiet for a second, thinking of what to say in a loud silence.

Of course he’s doing this because he knows it will piss Norm off if and when he finds out. As soon as Norm catches a stinking whiff of Jake on your body when he’s in his own avatar surveying the mountains, there will be nowhere for Jake to run or roll off to and avoid Norm’s volcanic rage. But he knows as well that this is a long time coming — that he’s been chasing circles around your feet for the fun of it, and now the chance has come for him to bring what he’s buried to the surface and shape it into something more.

Jake very carefully thinks of what to say. “Knowing that if I fuck you right now it will piss off your insanely annoying brother makes me want to do it more. But if the only reason I was fucking you was to piss him off, then I’d be doing it in front of him.”

Your brows raise. 

“Okay, that came out wrong,” Jake says quickly. “My point is… I go crazy thinking about you. And everything I think about doing to you can be made possible when I’m, as you said, all big.”

“But… Norm—”

Jake groans, all smiles. “Oh my god, can we please stop bringing up your brother for a sec? It’s a huge turn off.”

“It doesn’t make me feel any sexier, either,” you point out, “but I’m just thinking—”

“Don’t think,” Jake tells you. “This is the one time you don’t have to think about anything at all except for how you’d like me to take care of you.”

Jake returns his face to your stomach as you blink furiously, a flustered feeling creeping up over your body at the bluntness of his words. If you thought he was playing around, you’re officially convinced when his hands tighten around your thighs and he spreads them apart, pinning them down against the boulder he’s made your bed for the night. You inhale a deep breath when Jake’s thumbs dip underneath your shorts, bunched around your inner thighs.

“I suppose it would be like killing two birds with one stone…”

Jake laughs against your skin. “Jesus Christ, Spellman, quit talking so much. Who knew you were such a yapper?”

“Am not,” you protest.

You shudder when he plants another kiss on your abdomen, pings the fabric of your shorts back against your skin with a sharp sting and he grunts with a nod.

“Okay,” Jake agrees, his ears high and tail swishing playfully. “Now take off your cardigan.”

Still watching Jake on your forearms as he hooks his fingers around the waistline of your shorts in an effort to pull them down, you wrangle a sigh of protest and lift your lower body up for him, all whilst reaching for the buttons on the front of your cardigan. 

You breathe heavily as you mumble, “Do you really need to take off all my clothes, Sully?”

“One of us is halfway there, honey, and it’s not you,” replies Jake. His golden eyes watch with intent as he pulls the shorts down the expanse of your legs with your underwear in tow. As you shudder with the breeze fanning between your legs, Jake takes a big inhale and stares.

He barely moves an inch once the shorts and panties are in a bunch around your feet, but you busy yourself by sweeping a look at Jake’s own attire, or striking lack of. Between his legs hangs his tewng, a simple and sparsely intricate item of clothing that leaves little to imagination when it comes to what is growing between his thighs. 

It’s standard attire for the Omatikaya, but you’ve never seen it up close, and never on Jake himself. It hits you then that he’s still in his entire hunting gear, as if he finished up with Neytiri and brought himself here right away.

Jake’s thighs clench as he finally moves, readjusting his footing in his dropped squat; to him, this position has become as natural as breathing, but you stare at his thighs bulging and wonder how he’s not in agony from it alone.

Jake looks up at you after his allocated time spent analysing the spot growing wet between your legs and you gulp, feeling almost nervous. 

“Well, you’re gonna be an Omatikaya soon. One of the consequences is wearing your little g-string everywhere.”

His head leans to the side as his amusement grows. “It’s called a tewng, genius.”

That makes you laugh, and say in a melodic and sweet tone, “I know.”

But Jake bites back with the same sweet tone as you and says, “Then shut up,” and you comply. It’s the least you can do for him when he smooths his big hands back between your legs and up close to your cunt.

Pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, Jake inches his hands further, relishing in a deep breath as he returns to staring at the spot just inches from his fingers. From his perspective, you are hideously tiny; given the obvious lack of research on Na’vi and human sexual relations, Jake isn’t totally sure you’ll be able to withstand what he wants to give you.

Worth a try, though.

Jake’s chest rises and falls as he stares in wonder at your pussy, the scent divinely pronounced, and he runs one of his fingers between your folds and up, collecting the juices on his finger as he rounds your clit in a rather observational manner. 

You bristle, your legs instinctively trying to close — all the good it does, as Jake pushes them back open. His eyes flicker back up to yours, as if assessing his next steps, before he lowers his mouth to your cunt and without doing you the kind service of looking away, stares at you as he spreads his tongue flat between your folds.

His actions earn him a strangled moan of pleasure, and his ears twitch in satisfaction. The feeling of his tongue against you is strangely addicting, rough and soft at the same time, warm and wet and enough for your hips to lift. 

“Jake…” You gasp, feeling your eyes close, half with the pleasure of it all and also sheer embarrassment. 

Like a predator watching its prey, Jake never looks away from your face and the way it twists, your jaw hanging open as he licks your cunt. With the size of his head alone, his tongue virtually covers every corner of your pussy with no difficulty, leaving you with no untouched itch, no ignored stretch of wet skin. 

You can’t even bear to look down at him again, and you toss your gaze up to the stars as they twinkle above, blinking, conspirators to your escapade. Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, your hips slowly roll up and down as Jake sucks around your clit, his big hands working overtime to keep you from wriggling away entirely off the rock and to the ground.

“Oh, god…”

Between your legs is a flurry of warmth, a tingling feeling rippling down to your toes. After five dry years, it comes as no real shock that even someone’s tongue could be ripping this kind of response from you. 

“You good?” Jake murmurs.

“Mmh. Hot,” you rasp. It doesn’t help that there’s an exo-pack warming your face with every deep breath you take. Jake moves his mouth from your cunt momentarily as if trying to hear you, watching with curious eyes when you bite back another noise which stirs as he slides his finger towards your entrance. 

“This mask is really ruining my vibe right now,” you groan, your voice so throaty and strangled that Jake has to fight a smirk. He fails miserably.

“Take it off and hold your breath,” Jake replies; a laugh rumbles from his chest when you lift your head to scowl at him.

“It would frighten people if they knew how much of a genius you were.”

Jake hums, his eyes glistening as he cocks his head, “I’m incredibly humble.” Then he wastes no more time talking and sinks his finger into you.

He sinks in with plenty of ease, your wetness guiding his finger all the way in to the knuckle and you choke back a strangled sound; one of Jake’s fingers feels like two of your own, the stretch unfamiliar but not unwelcome after your dry spell of five cryo-stolen years. 

Jake grins widely and inches his tongue back between your legs, swiping it over your clit and forcing the moans out from hiding in your throat.

You turn your head to the side, sparing a glance at the distant laboratory. You can only hope you’re not loud enough to startle your sleeping colleagues and brother.

“Eyes down here, Spellman,” Jake mumbles, his voice vibrating across your pussy and pulling your eyes back towards him. Tears spring to your eyes as he looks up at you, working his fingers in and out of you slowly while matching his licks to the tempo.

His tongue is slightly rough and textured, each lick leaving you feeling almost ticklish. A rush of warmth pulls from your cunt up to your neck, and your thighs tremble around his head with a flushed squeeze, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind; he pulls your one leg further apart with his other hand and slips in a second finger, the stretch of your hole making your back arch with a half pained, half pleasured moan.

“Jake!” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his mouth, his fangs brushing across you. He has the nerve to laugh all of a sudden, pulling his mouth away after pressing a sloppy kiss to your clit. “Jesus, fuck, Jake—”

“Goddamn, you are a yapper,” Jake comments, and you glare at the almost human look of pure smugness on his face, his chin coated with saliva and juice. 

“Fuck you,” you huff, feeling the absence of his tongue immensely, despite his continuously moving fingers. Jake’s fingers are thicker than they looked from afar — it feels like you’re full already, but you’re not willing to confess that to him. He already looks far too proud with what he’s doing.

You suppose, now that you’re thinking about it, Jake’s had years to become familiar with a pussy; he seems to be back between your legs with a certain hunger for you, the taste of your juices sweeter than he initially expected. 

His fingers are coated in juice, slipping into you with no resistance and curling his fingers up to make your hips lift once more. He almost wants to make a comment to fluster you, to tell you how insanely good it feels for your cunt to be quivering around his fingers, welcoming him up there as if you’d prepared for them beforehand. Jake parts his fingers inside of you, stretching you out, his mouth comfortably attached to you.

His ears twitch when you let out a wobbly cry — actually, he’s not sure if you’re crying for real or not. His eyes follow your hand as it creeps down to the hood of your pussy, just above his nose, and he pulls his mouth away for a split second.

“No, no, go back,” you pant, and like a dog given a command, Jake pulls his soggy fingers out of your cunt and pushes his head back between your thighs, satisfied by your own pleasured sounds when he does.

Jake hooks his arm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the sloping boulder while he uses his other hand to keep your legs wide apart. You forget all about modesty and self-control and open them as wide as you can for him to help, your hand stroking the top of Jake’s hair as he burrows his way back between the wet spot he was devouring. 

You suck in a tight and high-pitched breath when Jake’s tongue shifts from left to right over your clit, the feeling of his tongue strange and almost like a vibration. Your hips lift from the boulder again and shift up and down — Jake’s barely even trying, barely broken a sweat, but when he glances up at you he’s both amused and surprised by how twisted in pleasure you look. All he can see is the underneath of your jaw tilted to the sky, and one of your hands curling up around your tit under your tank top.

Jake guides his arm from trapping your abdomen up to push the bottom of your tank up above your wrist. There’s no way he’ll let you gatekeep the sight of your tits when he’s the one making you touch yourself in the first place. His eyes are wide with excitement when you fist the fabric of your tank and yank it up above your boobs, the curve of them bouncing with the quick movement of your hand. 

Jake groans into you, his tail curling up high. Jake’s tasted a lot of pussy in his life, but he doesn’t know what exactly you’ve done to taste so good to him. He momentarily convinces himself that it feels different because he’s in a whole other body — it must just be because he’s big and strange and he’s been fucking you in his mind for a while now that you somehow feel ten times better than anyone else he’s ever been with. 

The pool of warm juice between your legs leaves you incredibly soft and squishy, like a tìhawnuwll that he has to remind himself he can’t just sink his teeth into.

It could be because you’re Norm’s sister. Could be because you usually appear so big when he’s resorted to sitting down all day, but now you’re helplessly tiny underneath him, trapped by his arms and head. Or it could just be because he’s an idiot who quashes his feelings rather than gives in to them.

He blinks. Your hips are so high off the boulder that Jake has to bring his arm back down to hold you in place. The less you squirm, the more drawn out he can make it, but he’s acutely aware of the tremor in your legs, the impatient rutting against his lips, the painful hardness under his tewng.

“Sweet,” he grumbles. The word leaves you flustered, and the heat brewing like a bomb against his open mouth begins to rise through your body again. You forget to be quiet as you let out a high-pitched moan, feeling your toes curl in your boots and you desperately finger at your nipple, rolling and tugging on the hardened nub of flesh as Jake pins you tighter against the boulder. He laves his tongue down your cunt towards your entrance, the warm tip of it pushing to the tightened hole that Jake wants more than anything to squeeze himself inside.

“Mf — Jake, come on,” you whimper.

One of his thin brows raises. “You seduced yet?”

“Fuck off. Yes.”

You feel the rumble of his laughter against your pussy. Jake presses a kiss against it and then moves his mouth to the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

“I never let a woman go without making her cum,” Jake says, his voice muffled against your leg. He feels you quiver beneath him, and his grin widens. “You wanna at least cum first, right?”

“Please, Jake—”

A startled cry of pain rips from your throat when Jake gently sinks his teeth into your leg — Jake knows his own strength and pulls back before he can draw blood, glancing at the red outline of his teeth imprinted into your leg, a ridged ring of saliva in his wake. Your head is lifted entirely to gape at him, and he looks at you with a coy expression.

“Did you just bite me?”

He smirks. “Accident. Sorry.”

“Yeah right.” Your legs shift slightly around him, but Jake can smell the twisting agony of pleasure leaking out of you — he’s never been more thankful for his Na’vi body and its strange sense of smell than he is now, to be able to pick up on the need you try to hide from him, a scent he actually understands. Normally he can admire your determination, but right now, he’s more concerned with finding out how to break down your walls and unravel you the way he knows you’ve been wanting him to for the last two months.

He smooches the bite one more time, his ears pricking when you whimper out a sort of desperately small sound and say, “Come on, Jake. You got me out here, don’t torture me about it.”

“Me eating your pussy not enough for you?” he asks smugly. He knows it would be more than enough — call him conceited, but he’s sort of an expert on it by now.

You don’t say much, nothing worth noting, at least. Jake’s ears are tall as he lifts his head slightly, but his thumb continues to rub up and down your slit, carefully smoothing over your swollen clit almost sympathetically.

“Please,” you beg in such a small and desperate voice that Jake smiles at the sound. You see his eyes flutter, half-lidded, as he cocks his head to the side until his temple is against your knee. 

“Hm? You just wanna say please and get it over and done with?” Jake mutters. “You can’t take any more of my fingers?”

“Don’t be a prick,” you whimper. “You want it, too.”

You feel that unkind heat simmer over you again, but not for the reason you expect. Jake blinks at you lazily, like an unimpressed cat, and then you watch as his eyes curve into crescent moons, the slint of gold virtually glowing in the Pandoran night. Then, the fucker smiles again, looking so smug that you feel embarrassed somehow, caught under his gaze.

“Yeah, I do,” agrees Jake. “I’ve been wanting you a long time.”

“Then, come on,” you urge. Something excited claws at you, and you feel your heartbeat race when he lifts himself slightly. “Come on, big guy. You got me out here, you win.”

He swells with pride, pleased by what is leaving your mouth in a flustered flurry. 

“You think you can take me all by yourself?” he asks, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he turns his gaze back to the clenching hole between your legs. Jake looks almost thoughtful as he stares at you, as if analysing. “You could only just take two fingers.”

For such an intelligent woman, Jake finds himself amazed when you look anxious about that statement. What, do you really think he’ll just give up and go? Jake doesn’t care if it takes all night to get himself up your snatch, because no matter what, he’ll get himself in there.

He sniggers when your mouth flounders like a little fish, your tank sliding with the angle of your body back down over your tits, but then he tuts and reaches back to pull it up. In fact, he decides it’s better off, and he uses one finger to pull the whole thing up to your chin, and lets you suffer in an anxious string of actions — you tug the tank up over your head, eyes wide, lip pouting. 

“Wanna try?” Jake asks, if not to speed along the increasing agony of his hard cock tenting under his tewng then just to put you out of your misery. “Or should I go back for seconds?”

“Jake…” Your chest rises and falls as you gape at him. He went through all the trouble to get you here, and although you never expected to look at Jake’s avatar and feel a throb between your legs, you can’t even look at him without feeling overcome with the terrible, pressing desire to squeeze whatever weapon he has under his loincloth into your cunt. Jake watches your eyes look down at the darkness between his legs, to the pretty band of string tied around his middle, and then looks back at you with a sickeningly sweet expression.

“Aw, honey. You want me to fuck you?”

It takes an incredible amount of effort not to scowl at him. Jake is lucky he looks so attractive with your arousal around his lips, otherwise you’d be up off the boulder and marching back to the labs for being so unbelievably full of himself. 

But even though he’s double your size and consumed by a cocky smugness from being able bodied and towering over you, you can’t think of enough reasons to warrant your leave. The only things on your mind are how much it’ll hurt to get him inside you, and how good it’ll feel once he is.

“That’s why you brought me here, after all, isn’t it?” you murmur, your lips curved slightly when he bows his body over you, his hands flat against the boulder on either side of your waist. “You’ve been thinking of me, right? Oeyä sayrìp tsamsiyu — you must have thought about this every time you went and found me a flower, right?”

Jake’s smile turns wolfish. “Yap, yap, yap.”

You all but whine underneath him. It is so unbecoming of you to be so desperate for something that you resort to writhing like a brat, but with Jake just straddling over you without doing anything, you feel the eager feeling of want coiling in your lower stomach. Your hole clenches around the air, as if trying to feel for Jake’s fingers again, and you lift your hips up off the boulder as if to entice him.

He barely even looks down at you, which only infuriates you more. 

For a moment, you wonder if the only reason he lured you out here was to satiate a desire of his own; maybe he just wanted to prove that he still had what it took to make a woman beg for him — though he needn’t have tried so hard, considering you’d have writhed and whined for him just as much, if not more, had he just made it known that he knew about and returned your feelings sooner.

But having you touch him in an impossible silence in the shared bunks pales in comparison to now, to having you look so small and soft and inviting; for you to beg for him, to let yourself be ravaged by him in all of his strength. Why would he prefer to have you while he feels useless when he can make the most of the strong, brawny and big body his brother passed down to him?

Jake breathes deeply through his nose and chews on the inner skin under his lips. You watch in the dark as his tail coils, his ears flat, until he lowers his body down like he’s doing a press up and pushes his nose against your sternum. 

“You smell so pretty, baby girl,” Jake mutters, pressing a kiss against the skin sloping between your tits. Biting your lip does little to suppress the moan that spills out when Jake cups one of his hands around your breast, and you hold the back of his hand as he gently squeezes. 

The hanging cloth of his tewng brushes past your pussy and you jolt in surprise, just in time for Jake to bring his mouth down over your other boob. The sheer size of Jake dwarfs every feature of yours, but something about your tiny size only excites him more. 

With his lips wrapped around your tit, you try your hardest to muffle another moan at the feeling of his tongue toying around your nipple, desperately trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the absurdly good feeling of Jake’s mouth or the tewng brushing past your pussy every time Jake rocks his hips backwards and forwards.

You clench your hand over his, feeling your legs squirm around him as his sharp teeth scrape against the squishy curve of your breast. Fear should rip through you when you feel his teeth tighten around the top of your tit, but it doesn’t; instead, a rush of warm excitement burns you from the inside out when Jake’s cheeks hollow, sucking a purple blot into your skin.

“Hey—” you say cautiously, but the damage is already done. It’s as if Jake’s determined to make you the same shade as him; the mark he leaves is blooming and bright, and he looks all too proud of himself when he looks up in acknowledgement of your voice. His tail thrashes excitedly. 

“Leaving that so everyone can see what you were doing when they wake up,” Jake explains, licking a strip from the swelling bruise to your neck for good measure. “My dirty scientist.”

That is if you ever make it back to the lab in one piece. 

Feeling the pleasure spreading across your body, you’re half contemplating staying here on this rock forever, hoping that Norm or Grace never come back here looking for samples only to find your corpse. You’re overcome with a conflicting contrast of emotions — you suddenly feel so exposed, so unraveled, half guilty for encouraging Jake to shove his big blue fingers up your crotch, and even guiltier about the fact that you want more from him.

“Enough. Come on,” you huff, and Jake dips his attention back to the rutting of your hips, the glossy shine of your arousal. “While I’m wet.”

“You really think I’m gonna let you dry up before I can get inside you?” Jake asks, as if the idea is beneath you both. “Have some confidence in me, Spellman.”

“I do. Full confidence. So, come on, gimme.”

Jake grins; he leans his weight up on one knee and in the light, you can just about see the protruding point of his tewng and feel your desire pooling. It’s only when Jake undoes the string around his waist and frees what hides beneath that you start to feel your body tense unexpectedly; it is beyond you how Jake has managed to keep the spear he calls his cock hidden for so long, and even more unthinkable as to how it will fit inside of you. 

You stare at it with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Jake holds the base of it with his hand and assesses the space between your legs again. When he guides the tip to your folds and strokes himself up and down, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your legs turn like jelly.

“You like it?” he asks, ever so sweetly, as if it’s a new gift brought back for you to enjoy. In a way, it is a gift, something for you to sample. Jake’s body seems to vibrate with nothing short of delight at the speechless state his dick has left you in — and he hasn’t even put it in yet.

“Big, right?” he continues to ask, a smirk on his face.

All you can say is, “how do you walk around with that thing?”

He barks out a laugh, his head tilted to the stars as his smirk widens. Jake then pushes the tip against you again with his thumb, choking down his amused sniggers as he drags himself up and down your cunt, and more than anything, he wishes he could see your face better in the moonlight. Luckily, Jake’s spent hours staring at you in his wheelchair to be able to piece together the smudges of your features he can see in the reflection of light hanging over the front of your mask. And what he can’t see, he’ll hear, and what he’s not satisfied with not seeing he’ll seek from you again later.

“It’ll be a tight fit,” Jake thinks out loud, prodding the tip of his cock against your entrance and looking up at you once you whimper, “but I know you can take it.”

“I dunno… Looks kind of big—”

“You can fit it in,” he tells you confidently.

But now you’ve seen it, you’re slightly nervous. “What if I can’t—?”

“You were just begging me for it,” Jake says pointedly. “While I’m wet, you said.” Then, he leans forward so that the wide slope of his nose is pushed against the front of your mask. “I don’t care if it takes all night trying. I’ll help you fit it all in, okay?”

You breathe in sharply, feeling your hips grinding up against him. Jake tries to find sympathy for you; he supposes that if he were you and some ten foot Na’vi was trying to burrow his cock between his legs, he’d be apprehensive too. 

“Just…” you rasp, watching him desperately, and he waits kindly, though his tip is on the verge of being swallowed by your cunt. Your legs tremble when he smiles at you, one hand on his cock, the other flat against the boulder. “Just go slow, okay?”

The way he looks at you is as if you’ve just said something stupidly endearing. “Sure thing, Spellman.”

Jake does his best to keep up his presented facade of coolness, but you feel so warm and wet, his arm begins to shake as he supports his weight on the boulder, grunting when he aligns his cockhead with your hole and very slightly pushes in. Even though he only just had his fingers up there, he can feel your pussy resisting, and it’s only the tip. 

Your mouth hangs open with a pained whine, the stretch uncomfortable but in spite of it, you arch your back as if trying to feel more of him inside of you.

“Easy,” he chuckles, very slowly pushing more of himself into your pussy. The noises from your mouth grow louder, and something proud purrs in his chest. His tongue pushes against the inside of his lower lip as he smirks, teeth showing, as he makes an almost amused groan. You’re insanely tight, and unbelievably squishy and wet — and hey, it’s been five years for him, too.

“Yeah,” Jake groans, pushing his hips further and pulling out, each stroke gentle and tentative. He wants more than anything to go rough, to make you mewl and cry and curl up against him, but the tearful look on your face makes him reconsider. Each time he sinks in a little bit deeper, softening the resistance of your walls as they make room for him. 

It takes an incredible amount of self restraint to stop himself from shoving all of it in at once; you’re so tight, the tightest pussy he’s ever felt closing around his cock, and easily the best. Jake closes his eyes for a second, honing in on the squeezing clench around his cock and the unnerving, uncharacteristic silence leaving your gaping mouth. 

“Talk to me, Spellman,” Jake groans, inching deeper inside. His ears perk again when you cry as he sinks in deeper. “Say something.”

“You told me I talked too much,” you manage out, admirably trying your hardest to remain quiet despite the pushing twelve inches of Na’vi cock up your cunt. Jake’s barely even inside of you; more of his dick is out than it is stuffed inside. 

“I love hearing you talk,” replies Jake, even though he had just poked fun at your ability to talk someone’s ear off. Had he known it would swear you into silence now, he’d have never said anything. What Jake wants now most of all is to hear your voice again, hear your pleasure, your instructions, your pleas. 

Hearing you slip out a high pitched moan when he pushes more of his cock inside of you feels like a reward almost. 

“Could listen to you yap away all damn day,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes finding yours behind the glaze of the exo-pack. “I know you’ve always got something to say, so why’re you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jake’s grin brightens when you manage to suck in more of his length, “Talk to me, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”

“Just… Put it in,” you whimper, and his eyes widen excitedly. 

“You said to go slow.”

“I know what I said, but I need more.” Your eyes are so blown open he’d laugh if it didn’t look so goddamn sexy. “Please, Jake.”

“You sure?” he croons. 

“Mm. Please — come on, please—!”

Jake snaps his hips forward so quickly that more than half of dick disappears inside of you, and the primal noise that leaves your mouth takes Jake completely by surprise. 

“Fucking shit, mama,” Jake groans, his voice rasped as he bows his chest over yours, dropping to his forearm on the boulder as he adjusts to the warmth enveloping him. “Holy shit.”

You swallow a deep breath, your hands gripping tightly to Jake’s shoulders which forces his eyes to your face. He can make out the distinct shimmer of tears under your eyes, and he brushes his fingers across the side of your neck, tapping you to bring your eyes open and searching for him in the dark. 

“You with me?” he asks, chuckling slightly. “You good?”

“Oh my god,” you squeal, cunt clenching. “Wait—”

“Breathe,” Jake says quietly, pressing a kiss to the swollen bruise he sucked into your skin earlier. “You can do it, pretty girl.”

“Keep moving, it hurts when you just stay still.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, his hips falling back into a slow rhythm to keep you adjusted to his twitching cock. It’s almost disturbing how easily you’re taking him now he’s forced more of his length inside, how wet and responsive you seem to be as he sinks deeper into you.

At first, Jake goes slow, familiarising himself with every noise you give him, every twitch and shift in your body, every clench around him. You feel the smooth ridges of his cock kissing your insides, the sensation unfamiliar and strange but so fucking good. He snakes one hand under your back when you lift up off the boulder; his large palm is flat against the arch of your spine, his fingers curled around your hip. 

You look like a toy underneath him, something he could easily just hold with one hand and fuck himself up into.

His hips snap again, faster than he intended, and more of his dick disappears inside of you. You could easily take all of him if he took his time getting you to that point, but the warmth wrapping around him like a glove is so sinful that he can’t think of anything less appealing than going slow. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and squeezes your waist with his hand; one desperate little cry from your mouth later, and Jake forgives himself for having waited so long to get you in this position, to fuck you stupid. 

It’s been so long since Jake’s been able to fuck a woman like this, and for his first time since his accident to be with you, of all people — well, Jake could think of no greater victory, no better reward for all the shit he’s endured so far. 

He stares down at the gap between your legs, watching as his dick vanishes and reappears with every rock of his hips. You’re taking it so well, like a champion. Pride blooms in his chest — he’d expect nothing less from his woman.

Pulling your hips down slightly to meet him as he thrusts up, Jake shoulders the control and moans in a low tone, pushing until he feels your body seize underneath him. Then, he pulls back, falls back in, and gets himself comfortable.

The stretch no longer burns the way it did, but you feel as though you can barely breathe as Jake ruts his hips up. He’s so big in every definition of the word. He doesn’t seem to notice nor care about the deep indent of your fingernails in his shoulder; he seems entirely devoted to gaining momentum, creating his own pace with his ears flat against his bowed head.

“God… Jake,” you moan, feeling the slight point of the boulder against your shoulder blades and his hand squeezing your middle as you finally speak, after what feels like eons of silence to Jake.

He latches his gaze to the rise and fall of your breasts as he fucks you, his breathing heavy. “Oh, you like that?”

Ever so slightly, he hastens his pacing, eliciting a tearful sob from your mouth. “Mmf—”

“Is it everything you hoped for?”

His stomach churns when you laugh, albeit with a strangled kind of tone, and clench around his cock again.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“So’re you,” he points out, lifting his chest slightly to glance down at your stomach. It should be criminal how turned on he feels by the sight of his own dick outlined in your lower tummy — it should be criminal how insanely good it feels knowing he’s fucking a part of you nobody else has before. You’ve lost all self control as you decide to let yourself be noisy, which Jake is all too pleased to hear.

Peering down at your hips, you marvel at the sight of Jake’s frightening length pushing up against your stomach. It looks just as weird as it feels. Jake hisses and runs a hand across the spot his dick is hitting.

“Feel that?” he asks. He knows you do. It’s a stupidly dumb question, but you whine at it all the same. “I told you it would fit. Look at you, taking it all, no problem.”

“Mhm. Feels good; so, so, so good, Jake…” Your body feels limp and tingly, and you let your head fall back so your gaze is pointed up at the sky. Even as you blink dazed up at them, they have the striking appearance of Jake’s skin, the dark blue wash of sky with littered balls of bright white light. The image of him is printed on your mind, and no matter where you look to avoid his gaze, you find him again.

Jake shifts. Keeping his dick sliding in and out of you with more of an upbeat rhythm than before, he bows his chest back over yours and brings his ears close to your ear.

“A perfect fit for my perfect girl,” he mutters. He becomes so reliant on his one hand on the boulder when he uses the other to hold your leg up around his waist, bringing forth an entirely new burn from the stretch of it. His breath is warm on your ear, making you shudder. “How long you been waiting for me, baby?”

You scoff disbelievingly, trying to think of something to say despite your mind being both full and empty at the same time. All you can think about is the building pressure in your tummy.

“Long,” you offer, snaking a hand up his neck to the back of his head. 

Jake licks his tongue across the arch of skin connecting your neck to your collar. “Thinking of me with your fingers up your cunt at night, huh?” His hand squeezes around your middle when you begin to shift with his thrusts further up the boulder. Even with your loud cries in his ear, Jake can hear the squelching wetness around his cock, the tightening spasms around his length bringing him closer to giving in to the dull ache in his own stomach. “Bet you wheelchair Jake Sully couldn’t make you feel like this. Next time you get off to the thought of him, I want you to think of what we’re doing right now, about who’s got you feeling this way.”

“How…how do you even know about that?” you gasp, half pleasured by his thrusting and half horrified by the revelation that Jake might have been privy to the fact you masturbated with him in mind when everyone went to bed at night.

Actually, he didn’t know. But he sniggers smugly that his teasing jeer turned out to be true. 

Jake presses a kiss to your collar and peppers a line of them up until he is thwarted by the mask covering your face. Peering down at your face hidden behind it, Jake gives you a sad pout and says, “I wanna go fast.”

“I…” you start, his hips already moving and you feel the heat simmering below again. Anymore from him, and you’ll be finished, cumming all over him. “I don’t think… I’ll — I’m gonna—”

“Then let’s get it done,” he says with as much finality and refine as he can muster before he picks himself back up, finding the energy he had before to pin you down against the boulder. You keep your leg wrapped around his waist as he sets one hand down over your tummy, the other on your shoulder, and then the real fun begins for him.

Jake isn’t ignorant to the twisting ache inside of him — like you, he knows he probably doesn’t have that much longer until he’s completely tuckered out and ready to fill you up. What can he say? It’s been a long time, and he doesn’t have the same kind of stamina as he used to. You’re tightening up around him in anticipation; it’s like being gripped in a vice. 

He pulls his hips back and then pistons himself back in with so much speed that you almost fly up off the boulder in surprise. Too fast, he thinks, so he gets accustomed to a regular fast pace and sticks to it loyally. In return, he’s rewarded with a litany of pretty sounds, your hands curling around his arms, desperately trying to hold on. 

“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jake groans, feeling your cunt fluttering around him as he fucks in and out, slipping in and out of your wetness as if he owns it. The hand that’s pressing your shoulder slips to your throat, and while he doesn’t squeeze, you claw your fingers around his and feel his grip tighten ever so slightly. 

“Fuck!” you squeal, clamping your eyes closed suddenly. “Shit—Jake, baby—”

He moans at that, really moans. A ringing rises in volume in his ears as his thrusts grow more rapid, relentlessly smacking his hips up until he slides all of his dick inside of you. 

God, you’re fucking perfect — he can’t name many women, if any at all, who could take a dick this size with as much ease as you are now. But the increasing pressure in your tummy is so overwhelming that you’re not even too aware of the size of what’s getting comfortable inside of you. All you know and understand is that in the next three seconds, you’ll be seeing white.

Jake’s name falls like a mantra from your lips, and he looks at you in surprise to see that you’ve very bravely opened your eyes to stare at him, although the tears lining your waterline and smeared down your cheeks make your stare look ten times more attractive to him. He almost wishes he hadn’t looked — his hips stagger slightly and he growls, the noise earning him another whiney moan from the undone woman beneath him, the woman he’s committed to filling with his cum and making his.

“I—!” You say nothing — you don’t even have to. Jake feels your cunt strangling his length like a goddamn fist, and by the buffering look of pure ecstasy on your face, he’s fairly certain all of those things mean you’re about to cum.

“Yeah, mama, cum for me,” Jake coaxes. “Lemme feel you.”

The warmth around him clenches, and all of a sudden, your body seizes with a jolt, your back arched so high off the boulder that it leaves him hitting entirely new angles inside of you, pushing your orgasm to a new level. 

For you, it feels like you’ve been blown up. Your entire body is consumed by a blazing heat, your legs going immediately limp as you cum around him. Jake’s eyes instantly shift to your quivering hips, to your cunt still swallowing him up, the white dribbles of cum leaking down the length of his cock. He watches the small cluster of glowing freckles decorating his dick disappear behind a rolling drop of your cum and his jaw goes slack.

“My girl,” he crows, his head bowing as he eagerly fucks into you a few more times, muttering the same thing as he does: “Oh, my girl, my pretty girl—”

The hand around your throat rips itself away only to squeeze into your hips, as though Jake intends to leave fingerprints there once he’s done. He grips you tightly and with a monumental and low, throaty moan, he snaps his hips one final time and feels a tug in his tummy.

You probably feel him cum before he does. Jake seems caught up in his thrusts while you register the unmissable burst of warmth inside of you, ropes of cum spilling out as if his sole intention were to breed you, stuff you full of his seed. 

In actual fact, Jake just wanted to fuck you silly, fill you with boat loads of cum, and bask in the evil satisfaction of watching Norm smell Jake all over you, claiming you as his. 

“Mm—fuck, Jake!” you rasp, squeezing your little hands around his wrists. The feeling is enough to bring him up to the surface he was drowning under, the ringing in his ears dulling as he catches his breath and opens his eyes, staring down at the embarrassingly wet mixture of cum and juice between your legs. 

He stays inside of you for a moment, his dick still hard and even more pronounced up your cunt than it was before, and it’s as if his eyes are unfocused in absolute awe as he observes the sight of you stretched open, locking him in place greedily. 

It sinks in that you managed to fit all of him in, that he just used his avatar to fuck you in the forest behind the lab. You. Norm’s sister. The object of his desire. The woman of his literal dreams.

Jake lets out a loud and heavy breath, a sigh of relief, and rubs his palms up and down your stomach gently. Despite having had him fucking you just seconds before, you feel a heat flush over your face when he looks up at your face, sweaty and tear-stained under the exo-pack, and he grins wolfishly.

“You’re incredible,” he laughs, which makes the act of looking at him feel ten times more rewarding. Your body warms with the praise: all you’ve wanted was for Jake to like you back, and now, to be full of his cum and knowing he thinks you’re incredible… You laugh with him. 

A few disbelieving laughs later, and Jake finally moves his hands under your thighs and slowly pulls himself out of you. The bump of each ridge along his length knocks past you, and Jake stifles a howl of laughter at the whiney, high-pitched moan you make as his cock pulls out of you with a slick, wet pop. He cranes his head slightly to watch his cum pool out of you and you pick yourself up on your forearms, looking for his dick between his legs to have a final peek, a good look at him covered in your cum and his…

Your eyes widen. “Your cum glows.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “What? Scientist of Pandora didn’t know Na’vi cum glowed?”

“I haven’t exactly had a selection of Na’vi men or women to tell me that it did!” you reason, your eyes still marvelling curiously at the shiny soft blue stain over the hanging fruit between his legs. 

He hums, poking a finger against your folds and smirking when you flinch. “Hm. Put that in your research notes. Wanna take samples?”

“Fuck off,” you laugh, keeping your legs wide as you struggle to sit upright. The discomfort between your legs is suddenly making itself known, and already the cum around your pussy and thighs is drying, sticky and thick. “Jesus, Sully. Look at me.”

“I know,” grins Jake, his eyes soaking up the image of you. “You’re fucking sexy.”

You roll your eyes with a twisting smile. While Jake seems incredibly fascinated with the marks he has either left accidentally or on purpose over your body, you groan and roll your shoulders. Frankly, you wish Jake had just thrown you down on the grass and fucked you there — in hindsight, the boulder had been a bad idea and you know it will come to haunt you in the morning.

Lazily, and yet with a rush of shame and exhilaration, you glance back at the lab, sitting in the curve of moonlight and caged by bioluminescent flowers and shrubs, each glowing vibrant spectrums of cyan and purple and lime. 

“You’re the luckiest woman alive if nobody heard you yapping,” Jake says playfully, rising upright to stretch the agonised muscles of his legs. “You’re so noisy, honey.”

“I apologise for not thinking too much about the volume of my voice,” you drawl sarcastically, your eyes still glued to the glazed thick glass windows looking into the back of the lab. Anxiously, you glance at him, “Was I that loud?”

He gives you a tight, sympathetic smile. You frown.

“You weren’t quiet yourself, you know,” you grumble, feeling the pinch in your back ease slightly.

“Yep.” And he seems smug about that fact, for reasons beyond you, although you wager a guess as to why he seems proud all of a sudden.

As you shuffle awkwardly off the boulder, you wince as you lean for your shorts and panties, dropping a little look at the sliding dollop of cum slipping out of you. 

“You gotta keep it in there,” Jake says. 

“Jake, as soon as I stand up and walk around, it’s all gonna come pouring out anyway.”

His lip curls with disappointment as he watches his cum drip out of you onto the edge of the boulder, splatting on the wisps of grass around your ankles. It’s a good thing he’s full of copious reserves of cum to give back to you another time.

“Can’t wait for Norm to get a whiff of me,” Jake tells you, and you fight the urge to sigh and roll your eyes, because of course — of course that had been a motive for the gallon of glowing blue sperm Jake just squoze into you. “The look on his face when he figures out I’ve been breedin’ his little sister—”

“I have never been more thankful of the fact that Na’vi and humans can’t reproduce together. Hand on my heart, I mean that.”

You slide your shorts and panties back up your legs and reach for your thrown tank top. The inconspicuous smudges of green from the boulder across the back of it fill you with a puny drop of dread — you’ll just pray really hard to both God and Eywa that nobody pays it any mind. 

That and the bulbous bruise on your tit, the bite on your leg, the finger indents on your hips.

“I was doing that thing you were doing. Killing two birds with one stone,” Jake says as he searches the ground for his tewng. “Fucking you ‘cause I wanted to and fucking you because I know wanting you is gonna piss off your annoying big brother.”

You had said that, hadn’t you? And even though the entire scheme of Jake wanting to scorn your brother so badly that he has to use you as a human fuck-toy seems ludicrous, you can’t deny the very minuscule jolt of thrill it gives you. It would be fun to piss Norm off a little bit. He has been a total arse lately.

“Norm’s all you think about,” you tease. “You sure you don’t like him instead?”

“Shut up.”

Jake hands you your cardigan with an amused smile, his tail whipping to and fro happily. 

“Your coat, ma’am.”

“Love how you only have one thing to slip back into,” you point out as you take the cardigan from him, and he reaches for the tewng and chuckles. “You could’ve just lifted it up.”

“Could’ve, would’ve, didn’t,” he replies.

There’s an uncharacteristic silence between you both as you climb back into your clothes, and while Jake fiddles with his tewng with his tongue between his lips, you look back at the lab and sigh. 

Somewhere in that lab is the man you’ve been thinking of for two months — Jake in his human form, lying in a link unit as he takes control through another body. You wonder what he might think when he wakes up: will he come searching for you in the dark? Come kiss you, tell you how he feels?

Jake creeps up to you with an alarming light foot, and the feeling of his hand on top of your head makes you look up suddenly. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asks. 

“You,” you sigh, looking back at the lab. “Are you going to follow through with tonight when you’re back as yourself, or is this an avatar Jake exclusive?”

“Come on. You still want that loser in there?” Jake feels his heart tug — he doesn’t know if to feel offended that you’re still thinking of someone else, or flattered because that someone else is technically him, the real him, the version of him that Jake hates the most.

“You’re so mean to him,” you grumble. Then pause, and add, “To you. That’s literally still you in there. If anything, doesn’t that make me look a little bit obsessed?” Jake gently pushes your head as you fall into a slow walk in the direction of the remote lab. “Wow. Actually, I just realised that’s true.”

“Finding out that you liked me was the only reason I started spending more than five minutes at a time in the lab,” Jake tells you. 

“Who told you?”

You both accept a short silence as you stride past the wall that most of the bunks are built against, and you feel an anxious knot forming in your stomach when the clearing at the front of the lab expands into view. 

“I meant it when I said you were horrible at hiding your crush on me,” Jake reminds you. 

Right. 

The tsawksyul Jake found you is thankfully still where you left it, and you slip out of Jake’s touch to fetch it from under the window, but when you turn to him, his eyes are pulled back across the miles of suspended mountains.

“You have somewhere else to be?” you call.

His top lip curls into a half pout as he says, “Not now. But tomorrow I’ve got to do some hunting. If I make a clean kill, I start my iknimaya.”

“Impressive,” you comment, twirling the tsawksyul between your fingers. “You… Will you be gone long?”

Jake hesitates for a moment. Is he reading into it, or are you looking a little bit more crestfallen now you know he’ll be gone for a little while longer?

“Why, you wanna go again?” he asks with a laugh.

“Respectfully, I think my vagina is broken and I need to lie down,” you quip, making him laugh even more. “I was just…curious. If you’re gone too long, I’ll be asleep before you get back.”

Jake creeps towards you and drops to a painful crouch. He’s definitely going to feel the cry and protest in his legs in the morning from being haunched for so long. Still, he frames your face with his hands and takes a long look at your face.

“I’ll roll past your bed extra quietly,” he promises. 

You snort and push yourself away from him. “Safe travels, big guy. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Peering up at him, you breathe in the sight of him one last time as he nods once and rises to stand. The long shadow drawn by his lithe figure falls over you.

“Affirmative,” he states. You look up at him for a second and smile. Did it take having his cock in your stomach for you to realise how pretty he is like this, or have you known all along?

“Go,” you tell him, nodding towards the edge of the cliff before turning to the door. Over your shoulder, Jake scoffs a laugh and turns on his heels, his eyes scanning the mountain range as he approaches the edge. 

The bravery you had before died long ago and you quickly twist the air-lock to the door and force it open, your heart in your throat. You don’t look back at him, even when he looks back at you with an endearing smile on his face.

The lab is deathly silent when you slide back inside. You were half expecting someone to stir at the sound of the door sealing shut, but if anyone’s awake, they make no effort to show it. Tip-toeing to the small bathroom, you very hurriedly go about your business and wipe away the eternal flood of cum from between your legs. With the amount Jake just put inside you, you’re fairly confident that even a human with an average sense of smell could sniff him all over you.

The long stalk back to your bunk is made silently and carefully. Norm is fast asleep on the top bunk he unhappily shares with Jake, the aforementioned’s bunk empty and cold, the link unit whirring quietly. Just the sight and sound of it makes you unnaturally nervous, and you turn to speed towards your bottom bunk and peer at Trudy. She’s out like a light. 

The thin blanket is pulled to your chin once you settle in the sheets, and you refuse to accept that it’s cowardice you feel when the sound of the link unit slowly begins to fade and Jake hauls himself out with a pained groan. You remain very still as he fumbles for his chair, though you fight the urge to get up, help him and while you’re at it, kiss him until he can’t breathe.

You hope your acting has improved since your terrible attempts of hiding your crush and try to make it look as though you’re asleep, but the distinct sound of rolling wheels makes its way towards where you sleep; you steady your breaths so it looks like you’re out of it, and perhaps Jake will fall for it this time. 

Your stomach tightens when the wheels stop next to your bed, and you’re uncomfortably aware of the set of eyes staring at you curled up and facing the wall.

Jake’s hand brushes the back of your head gently, and you’re not sure if that means you’ve been caught, but then you feel Jake’s fingers brush a section of hair away from your neck and nearly sigh at the feeling of his mouth pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. It is so sweet, so fond and gentle, and annoyingly quick. He pulls away and the sound of wheels roll towards his own bunk.

Every sound he makes feels like it’s right in your ear. 

You almost wish you’d rolled over and took his face into your hands. But Jake’s smooch against your nape feels like a stolen secret, something shared between only you two, something special. 

No matter, you think as you wriggle to get comfortable. He’ll be there in the morning. And it’ll be the man you’ve wanted the entire time who wants you back who receives all your stirring desires.