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#not everyone has to like him but don’t make stupid comments when you don’t even put the effort in to get to know his character and backstory
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The Vees are Overlords but also a business, therefore they hold meeting and work with clients right and workers? Well what if a Business client or worker unknowingly said something about Retro!Reader in a meeting?
If its before Vox it come be commenting on Retro's cooking, as I see Retro would always ensure Vox had home made snacks for while hes working. Something like "That House Wife of yours is decent in the Kitchen, I see why you keep them there"
If its before Valentino I assume its after Retro brings him something between shoots, some fool would comment on Retro's looks or ask why Retro isn't one of Val's 'Stars' kinda a "Bod like that should be in those sheets"
Velvette would most likely be dealing with jealous models who don't know fully who Retro is but Retro gets to walk in, get the nice personal design treatment from Velvette and not have to talk the cat walk? Bitch fight would incoming.
Hope you don't mind my ramblings and if this sparks something Hooray!
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He would destroy the person in question if it’s an insult^
Vox is always boasting about Retros cooking, how skilled and talented they are. He literally never shuts up about it. Now, the demon who said ‘I can see why you keep them there’ might have meant it as a sort of joke or some shit, but Vox would not be pleased. He does not take kindly to people who insult or degrade their partners (ironic, considering Valentino), so someone who’s making that sort of implication about his wife? Death.
He’d sort of chuckle and go ‘excuse me?’, daring the demon to repeat themselves. It’s over for them either way. If the demon backtracks, Vox will very pointedly dedicate the rest of the meeting to bragging about all of Retros other skills, too. He’d try to start by mentioning it off hand, but he’d get so invested in proving a point to the low life that insulted his wife that he’d get carried away. He’d go on and on about how creative and thoughtful Retro is, how nice they are to everyone, including those who work at the company. He would not-so-politely remind everyone that Retro knits sweaters for people at the company picnics, how they always cook at least half the food at the company get together and parties, stuff like that. It’s a stupid move to insult Vox’s wife, but insulting the person who everyone loves just because of how nice and kind they are? That’s ten times dumber.
Valentino would shoot a bitch on sight if they made a comment about Retro in bed. Yes it’s hell, insults and comments like that are to be expected, but he has standards when it comes to Retro. Val is so unbelievably protective of them when they come by the studio, it’s startling. He knows what Vox would do if anything happened, and Val doesn’t want to see Retro in any sort of compromising situation to begin with. He’d do his best to keep everyone in line.
He’d shoot glares and insults at anyone who looks at them the wrong way, anyone who looks at them for too long. Keep in mind, Val is in a wonderful mood whenever Retro visits him at work. They help him with scripting, and he’s always admiring them and gushing over them. He draws little hearts in the margins of his papers and sometimes lets them on set. He’s always nervous about it, but it works out nicely. They usually only help adjust someone’s clothes (with how few they’re wearing, it’s very important), the perspective of cameras, sometimes the hair or makeup (only a little). They know exactly what Val is looking for, and how to get the scene how he wants it. They’re calm and polite and everyone is just so relieved about it. Retro even does their best to make sure the actors are comfortable, the clothes aren’t too tight, the clasps work correctly, things like that. So yeah, if someone makes a comment about them, they’d be lucky to only receive extra hours of work as a punishment.
Velvette? Okay, if Retro was the type to confront people, Vel would record the entire thing. Unfortunately, Retro usually pretends they don’t hear a thing. They’d rather ignore it and keep up the nice and polite house wife routine. They’re probably busy admiring their lovers, anyway. So, instead, Velvette would shoot a model a glare and walk right up to them, demanding they tell her what makes them think they can say such a thing.
Retro gets treated special because Velvette respects them, thinks they’re awesome and adorable and can’t do anything wrong. Mostly. So, the fact that one of her models (people she sees as frequent fuck ups) would try to put themselves on Retros level? The fact that someone would even think they’re anywhere near as good as them, anywhere near as deserving of Velvettes attention and affection as Retro? A ridiculous notion. The model is lucky not to be torn apart by Val. Velvette would go off on the model, listing every single mistake they’ve made in the past hour alone.
The workers at Vee Tower learn not to fuck around when it comes to Retro pretty quick.
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thranduel · 8 months
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i need people to actually stop and think logically when it comes to fictional characters. more specifically, when it comes to astarion.
it’s frustrating when people only talk about him in a sexual way and reduce him to “the hot sexy flirty vampire” or “the bear guy” (he was used as an EXAMPLE in a livestream, it’s not even canon in his lore) and view him as someone who “loves flirting and sleeping with people” when he does NOT. he canonically has sexual trauma, was forced to use his body to seduce people, got punished whenever he didn’t listen and is STILL suffering from ptsd after years of abuse and torture (already kinda spoke about this here).
it’s also frustrating when people hate on him and reduce him to “horrible evil heartless cruel annoying bastard” and act like you’re a shitty person if you like his character and must automatically agree with everything he’s done when you absolutely don’t?? he’s a FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN A FANTASY GAME, you can enjoy the complexity of his character and appreciate his character development while also acknowledging his flaws and not approve of every single thing he has ever done.
but before i continue, everyone should watch this scene. many people haven’t seen it because you have to pick very specific dialogue choices when astarion’s siblings approach you at camp. it’s brutal and heartbreaking but this is where he talks about what cazador did to him when he punished him for not listening to his orders. and yes, it’s bad. like really bad. this is just the first part, but the rest of it is more intense and it’s in the video:
“once - in the first decade of my slavery - i found a darling boy who i couldn’t bare to bring back to him. so i ran, instead of hurting that sweet man. after cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year”.
i wish people could actually just try to understand him and his backstory before reducing him to something he’s not. he’s not this one-dimensional “chaotic evil villain”. he’s not this “flirty sexy vampire red flag bad boy” he is SO much more than that. he is so complex and well-written and it’s so weird how people ignore it.
instead of constantly focusing on how he acts at the beginning of the game and saying “astarion is so mean and cruel what a horrible guy who doesn’t care about anyone but himself”, why can’t we talk about how he was forced into doing so many horrible things that he never wanted to do and how his master punished him every time he didn’t follow orders to the point where it utterly broke and destroyed him? he lost his freedom and bodily autonomy. he was forced to sleep with people and then lure them to tragic fates. imagine how sick, disgusted, guilty and horrible he felt all at once. it made him numb, empty, angry and scared even when he was far away from cazador, because that type of pain and trauma never leaves you. he was surrounded by cruelty for so many years that he responded with cruelty in many situations. he hated when people tried to be the hero or make false promises to save someone because no one ever saved him. no one even tried. he had no one and nothing. he was used to constant disappointment and loneliness. he was treated like an object rather than a person. of course he’s going to be bitter because of that. how can you seriously expect someone who only knew a world of cruelty to see sunshine and rainbows and be the sweetest person you’ve ever met? he’s upset, he’s angry, he’s hurt, he’s bitter. does that make every action of his okay? is it an excuse? absolutely not. and no one said that it is. his own life was being destroyed and he also destroyed others at the same time. it’s horrible. but everything cazador did to him explains why he became like that.
but the moment you actually start to treat him like a person, you can immediately see things start to change. that is literally the only thing he ever wanted. that’s why the scene you get after the drow interaction at moonrise is one of my absolute favourites. i know there’s a different version of that scene (if you don’t talk to the drow) where he instead admits he had a plan to seduce you but then fell for you, but the reason i prefer the drow one is because it feels really meaningful and important for his character in regards to consent and treating him like a person. like it’s just such an important conversation to have with him. obviously the other version is still really sweet when you think about the romantic aspect of your relationship and it’s nice to hear that he’s fallen in love and tells you that you deserve something real, because he’s never had those sort of feelings for anyone. it’s really beautiful. but i love how the drow version of the scene could actually work for both platonic and romantic relationships with him if that makes sense? it’s important to him because you made the decision to actually treat him like a person, defend him and allow him to make his OWN decisions (something he never had with cazador). he appreciated it so much that he decided to come up to you in the middle of the night and thank you, and then he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable and open up to you.
at the start of act 3, you already start to see how much he’s changed. if you give an orphan child some food, he approves. when you first met him, he wouldn’t have. he probably would’ve felt bitter; angry to see someone stop for someone else when no one ever did for him. but because you showed him basic respect and kindness, he started to realise that there is good in this world and people do care. it’s not just evil and coldness and cruelty. he only believed there was because of how long he suffered with cazador. there is literally a scene where he tells you that no one has ever cared about him or been kind to him and that no one else has a heart like you. he starts to find safety and comfort in you. this is why it’s so beautiful to see how much he grows and changes and it also shows that he genuinely loves and cares for you too because he’s trying. he’s really trying. you are able to convince him that he can be better than cazador and he believes you after everything you’ve done to help him. it’s going to take a very long time for him to heal after everything he’s suffered, but the fact he has already started to try and be a better person is such a massive thing. obviously it doesn’t erase what he’s done in the past and it doesn’t automatically “fix” him, but the fact that he’s trying and he wants to be better tells you more than enough about him. i am so proud of his character development and growth and i really hope people start to understand him and appreciate him more.
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minisugakoobies · 2 months
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Yours for the Night | HHJ
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Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.
A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘
Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (anon is on, but hateful comments will be blocked. Be kind, writers do this for free and with love!) 💕
SKZ Masterlist
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 It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.
It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown. 
Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.
No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate. 
Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop. 
Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far. 
Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo. 
You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?
Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything. 
He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say. 
So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.
Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question. 
You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me
Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.
You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep
Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited? 
Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone. 
And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips. 
But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?
You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t
Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.
You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie
You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.
You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.
You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again. 
Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious
Such an ass.
You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?
The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace. 
You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.
You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.
Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?” 
Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “
“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”
“Hey!” 
Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over. 
Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo
He can’t be serious.
You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all
Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going? 
You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either
Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous. 
You turn away so fast, your neck cracks. 
Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.
There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity. 
It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.
Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away. 
As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo. 
You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.
Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic. 
So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.
But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck. 
Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything
Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself. 
You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!
What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now. 
“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors. 
You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say. 
“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.” 
“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache. 
“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly. 
Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock? 
(Yes. Yes, you are.)
“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg. 
“Oh no, that was just for you.” 
“Uh-huh, sure.” 
With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?” 
“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence. 
Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf. 
“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric. 
“Is that what we are? Friends?” 
Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”
“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.
Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?” 
You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you. 
You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all. 
“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!” 
“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.” 
Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.
And like that, your resolve starts to slip. 
“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”  
Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.
His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs. 
Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin. 
“I just know.”
You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.  
“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.” 
And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake. 
The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?
You feel like you’re going out of your mind. 
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“Just think about it.” 
Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing. 
And oh, god, do you think about it. 
For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name. 
But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?
You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall). 
Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs. 
Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment. 
“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.” 
Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him. 
“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.” 
Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority. 
With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape. 
You’re not sure you want to.
“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear. 
Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod. 
“And what did you decide?” 
“I - I don’t know.” 
A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?” 
Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage. 
When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir. 
“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.” 
Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list. 
“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs. 
Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.” 
Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.” 
His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely. 
When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?” 
You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.
You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?
When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin. 
“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?” 
You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes. 
Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger. 
Fine, then. You’re a fool. 
“One.” 
With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.
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You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable. 
As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again. 
Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?” 
“Um, yeah, sure.” 
He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. 
“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”
“Am I - am I in good health?”
Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.” 
You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.” 
“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”
“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.” 
“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice. 
“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.” 
You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?” 
Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking. 
“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.
Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”
“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”
“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.” 
“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.” 
He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath. 
“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.” 
“No shit. Everyone knows that.” 
“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.” 
“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”
Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again. 
“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.” 
He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?” 
“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.” 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 
“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.
You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right. 
“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?” 
“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.” 
As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.  
The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it. 
Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??
“Maybe this was a bad idea.”
He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek. 
Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.
“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”
Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.
Your lips don’t move. 
He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.
You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply. 
His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”
You make no noise.
His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.
“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.
He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.
“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”
“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.” 
His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.
This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.
“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open. 
“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.” 
“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”
In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him. 
“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.” 
“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go. 
Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need. 
Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed. 
He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated. 
Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants. 
“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.
The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water. 
He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.” 
“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience. 
“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.” 
Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body. 
Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it. 
“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?
“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. ��That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”
It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him. 
“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.” 
Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue. 
Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.
“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?
“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly. 
Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.” 
He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?” 
“I will.” 
He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.
Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing. 
When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.” 
“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens. 
He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little. 
Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps. 
He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands. 
“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 
His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.” 
You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.
“Ohhhh.” 
The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you. 
“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”
The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life. 
“Hy-Hyun-”
Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze. 
“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”
If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso. 
When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves. 
Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between. 
“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.
“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!” 
“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.” 
And just like that, you feel that spark again. 
“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash. 
He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite. 
“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation. 
“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer. 
His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder. 
“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.  
Both of you freeze when you’re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his. 
“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”
You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.
“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!” 
Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.” 
He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls. 
“Hyu-hyu-hyun!” 
It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.
“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.” 
“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.
“Just like that, so good for me.” 
You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you. 
You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you. 
“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts  your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.” 
“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.” 
“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.” 
“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”
“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.” 
“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?” 
Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl. 
The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it. 
So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip. 
Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.
You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises. 
Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”
Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire. 
A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”
You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.
“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”
The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need. 
“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.” 
“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”
“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs. 
“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!” 
Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him. 
“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.” 
“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush. 
When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.
“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace. 
It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content. 
But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and - 
“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.” 
Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.” 
To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look. 
“What?” 
“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?” 
You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.
“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.” 
He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”
In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.” 
Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss. 
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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my works.
Taglist: @scoupsjin; @aznstoner; @yourtmblrgirlfriend; @hyunlvrs; @notevenheretbh1; @chrisbangsgalaxy; @dessianna1
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cry baby
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 7.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** smüt, ed*ging, overstimulation, crying during s*ex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.
a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡
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“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”
it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.
you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”
she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.
“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”
natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”
“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”
“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”
you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”
natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”
“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”
nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.
sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.
“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.
he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”
bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.
“i’ll murder you,” you promise.
“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.
you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.
bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“that bad, huh?” he asks.
you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.
“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.
“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”
you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”
“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”
“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”
it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.
“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”
you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”
this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”
the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.
“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.
“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”
if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.
“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.
“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.
“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.
you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”
“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.
“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”
“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.
“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”
bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”
“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.
“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.
you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”
he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”
“what?”
just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.
“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.
his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”
“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”
“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”
“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.
he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”
“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.
“think about it?” he implores.
you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”
he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.
needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.
***
you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?
it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.
but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?
bucky: experience?
you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.
you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?
bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.
you: says you
bucky: and a few other people :)
bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you
you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.
you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…
bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.
your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.
bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?
biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.
it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.
you: okay. we’ll try.
***
it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.
(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)
you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.
you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.
by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.
he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”
“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”
he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.
“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.
bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”
you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.
“nervous?” he wonders curiously.
you shake your head. “not really.”
he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”
“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”
he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.
with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”
“you can’t really promise that, though.”
“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”
you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.
you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.
“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.
you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”
his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.
“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.
“great! finish your wine.”
you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.
“let’s do this,” you say, determined.
bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.
“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”
“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”
“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.
he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.
it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.
he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.
“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”
you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.
his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.
you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”
bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”
your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.
quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.
“my turn,” he says against your lips.
carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.
“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.
shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.
he hums. “beautiful.”
he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.
you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.
“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.
“hm?”
you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.
“please,” you whimper.
“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.
“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.
his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”
“bucky,” you whine.
“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”
when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.
“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.
“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”
he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”
he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.
“may i?”
“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.
he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.
“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”
a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.
~
a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.
“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.
bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.
just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.
your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.
bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”
you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.
“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”
you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.
“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.
he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.
“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”
“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.
he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.
“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.
he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.
you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.
instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.
“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.
bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.
unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.
it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.
bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.
you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.
“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.
you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.
“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”
when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.
“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”
“i literally just did the impossible.”
“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.
he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”
“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.
“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.
you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.
“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.
he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”
well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.
***
except, things kinda change between the two of you.
it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.
another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.
“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”
he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”
“oh,” you said again. “okay.”
so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.
in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?
a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.
but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.
“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“
when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.
“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.
whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.
you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.
“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”
“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.
he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.
“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”
you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.
and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.
after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.
“what do you want to watch?” he asks.
“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”
as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.
“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.
“okay,” you reply after a moment.
he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.
it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.
you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.
he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”
“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.
“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”
you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.
“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.
you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.
the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.
“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.
you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.
you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.
as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.
bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.
hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.
***
bucky: dinner tonight?
you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.
you: sure. what time?
bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.
reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.
bucky: dress nice ;)
with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.
by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.
“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”
he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.
“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”
he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.
this was going to suck.
the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…
conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.
after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.
“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”
oh fuck, here it goes.
“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”
“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.
“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”
did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.
“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”
you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.
bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”
“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.
“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”
“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”
bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”
“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”
bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.
“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”
“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.
he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”
“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”
he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”
your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.
smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.
“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.
“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.
“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”
“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”
“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.
“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”
you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”
“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”
you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”
he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.
“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”
bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”
he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.
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seungisms · 1 year
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🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 … 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃
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𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff and so much dumbassary 
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: more stupid tiktok trends, hyunjin and minho being haters in the comments, shy!seung 🗣️🗣️🗣️ chan and felix being the most perfect boyfriends ever <3
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: based of this tiktok! (making me feel so single fr) so in love with this trend, i just had to write it! felix and jeongin are shorter than the rest cause i’m just one (dumb) woman and incapable of thought 👍 this took me like two hours to write please forgive if it's absolute dog. reblog for a kiss, feedback much appreciated!
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𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍
as we’ve already established this man is a whole ass boomer and doesn’t know what tf you’re talking about half the time
so when you come to him chatting away about another stupid tiktok trend he’s only half listening
humming along occasionally and going ‘that sounds fun sweetheart’ but as soon as the words ‘kissing trend’ hit his ears his interest is 📈📈📈 and you have his full attention
will be soso useless when you’re trying to find the right lipstick shade cause every time you ask his opinion he’ll just go
:) they all look pretty on you :)
and you’re just like chan that’s so cute and all but yOU’RE NO HELP RN
finds it so hard to concentrate while you’re leaving the lipstick stains all over his face cause you just look so cute giggling between every kiss and he’s so <333
just really wants to kiss you :( and gets all grumpy when you tell him to focus :( 
takes his role very seriously when the camera is on him though
will take your face in his hand after wiping away your lipstick smudge, turning your face towards him and this mf is looking at you all 🥺 with your red lipstick covering his face
and you’ve never seen a prettier sight
cue the comments going wild over how dreamy ur boyfriend is
and he just laughs straight in ur face when you get all huffy
the type to repost it all over his socials, like this tiktok will be his whole personality for the next three months 
probably has it pinned on his insta and linked in his bio or some shit 😭
down so bad and it shows
expect to be clowned in the comments by the rest of the guys
they just don’t wanna admit how cute the both of you are though <333
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎
takes a good full week of nagging for him to finally give in
he just really likes to see u beg :(
will be soso moody at the start and sits on the edge of ur bed feeling sorry for himself as you choose out ur lipstick
and every time you ask him what colour you should use he’s just like ‘🙄 idc what you wear let’s just get this over with 🙄🙄’
and you would’ve punched him straight in the teeth if he wasn’t essential to ur plan 
pls he’ll literally melt once you sit on his lap and take his face between his hands
kissing you is definitely one of his fav hobbies so he’ll come around as soon as your pretty lips come in contact with his skin
will be all <333
you end up having to re-film it so many times cause this guy gets so carried away
every time you think he’s finally gonna do what you asked he just ends up planting his lips on yours again
you can’t even count the amount of times you had to reapply your lipstick cause this mf was busy kissing it off you
you’ll probably end up with so many drafts of the two of you just making out
you just look so pretty with your lipstick all smudged, he can’t help kissing you :(
will take a good hour of filming before this guys finally gets it right
cutest couple on the internet istg
gets so smug when he sees all the comments swooning over him the next day and you’re just like :/ stfu or else i’ll delete it 
if only they all knew how hard he made the whole process for you 😭
ends up being one of his fav videos 
so much so that’ll he’ll send it to everyone he knows and is like
heart, comment and share or die
thinks tiktok trends are stupid af but he doesn’t mind this one ig 🙄
𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍
down so bad that he’ll agree right away 
but you bet your ass he’s gonna be complaining the whole time about how he’s ‘putting his reputation on the line’ for you
but he’s sitting on your bed blushing, twiddling his thumbs and kicking his feet like a fucking teenage girl while you apply lipstick to your lips
suggests you kiss him on the lips first and you’re just like ‘yeah bro not gonna happen 🙄’ cause you j u s t know as soon as your lips meet his you’ll be pulled into making out with him for the next hour 
he’s just very bad at focusing on the task at hand so every time you plant a kiss on his face he’ll be chasing after your lips with his own and pouting all cutely when you refuse to kiss him
likes watching you reapply your lipstick 
ur just so pretty to this guy 
can’t stop fucking laughing when you finally get to it
when he sees his face in the mirror he’s like whAT HAVE YOU DONE?? THIS IS GONNA TAKE FOREVER TO WASH OFF????
and it’s like bRO STAY FOCUSED WE HAVE A TIKTOK TO FILM HERE
every time he turns your face towards him and you pan the camera over to him he’ll just go sdhisjdidjdAHAHAHAHA
and now half your drafts are just you shouting at him to f o c u s and hitting him with a pillow and he’s just cackling like an idiot 
you end up having to post one of those cause this mf is useless and can’t follow a simple trend 
first to comment is minho cause he has ur notifications on just to clown u
literally just a ‘look at these pussies’ and somehow it has 40k likes in three minutes
you’re surrounded by idiots  
𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍
your lipstick stain is his fav accessory so you bet he’s agreeing right away
doesn’t mean he’s gonna make it easy for you though
argues with you about what shade of lipstick you should wear
and has no problem taking his sweet ass time going through your shades
‘what colour lipstick do you think would suit me the most? 🤨’
‘bro idc you’ve been at this for the last half hour, just piCK ONE?!’
‘-idk i think pink will go with my hair the best but all the pink shades you have are ugly af’
‘istg’
probably records you while you’re leaving the kisses on your face and posts it
don’t be surprised when it ends up getting twice as much likes as your original tiktok :(
puckers his lips all annoyingly and makes kissy noises when you’re done with the rest of his face
and you’re just like 🙄 c’mere idiot 🙄
when you finally film the tiktok he takes is soso seriously that it gives you whiplash
swipes at the smudge stain all lovingly and turns your face towards him, thumb tracing over your bottom lip and eyes flickering between your eyes and mouth and you’re just like?????
how??? tf??? is this man able to turn from the most annoying brat you’ve ever met to an actual dream boat within the span of 10 seconds???
you have half a mind to post the bts just to show everyone what he’s really like (aka a little asshole)
just knows tiktok is gonna go crazy over you guys
and sure enough it’s filled with
‘you mean OUR boyfriend’ 
‘[name], where did you find him again? 🧐 for science ofc’
‘the smudges are meant to be all around his face [name] not just his lips 🙄🙄’
and he just comments ‘she can’t resist me guys <333’ just block his ass already 
𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆
nodding his head and agreeing before you even finish your sentence
‘hey babe, wanna film this kissing-‘
‘yes’
‘…bro i didn’t even tell you what we were doing??’
‘idc as long as i get to kiss you idc … i get to kiss you right!? … [name]?!’
very enthusiastic 
just likes showing you off so he gets really into it
picks out some random red shade cause it ‘brings out his eyes’ 🙄
and you’re like okay whatever but you can’t help but agree he looks so cute all smiley with your lipstick smudged all over his face 
gets distracted so easily 
demands you kiss him on the mouth before moving onto his face and before you know it you’ve just been making out for the last half hour
‘but jisung, what about the tiktok trend?’ ‘the what????’
goes back to kissing you cause he’s so love drunk and can’t think straight once he’s had a taste of your lips
good luck getting him off you
can’t keep a straight face while you’re filming istg
knows the actual trend doesn’t involve kissing but as soon as he swipes your little smudge stain away and turns your face towards him he just finds himself leaning in again
and the rest of the tiktok is just him giggling against your mouth
and before you can even think about cutting that part out he’s already posted it
all the comments are so in love then there’s just hyunjin with ‘🤮🤮’
his lockscreen is 100% a selfie of the both of you covered in lipstick stains
one of his fav videos ever and will have no problem shoving it in peoples face out of nowhere
‘hey jisung, haven’t seen you in awhile-‘
‘yeah that’s great hahaha, loOK AT THIS VIDEO ME AND [NAME] FILMED, ISN’T SHE THE CUTEST??? LOOK AT HER?? LITERAL LOML???’
‘…’
so whipped for you and this trend didn’t help that fact
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗
probably the one to suggest it tbh
saw it on tiktok one day and was like ‘…me and [name] would slay this’
you only agree to do it cause he’s so cute when he’s excited over smth <333
looks up at you so 🥺 as you kiss all over his face
hold his chin in your hand and he’ll melt
forgets the trend as soon as your soft lips make contact with his skin and can’t help but kiss you every now and then while you’re marking his face 
can’t keep the smile off his face when you’re recording and he looks so damn lovesick and whipped for you that it breaks tiktok for a good week
all the comments will be
‘he’s so in love with her 😭’
‘wish my boyfriend would look at me the way felix looks at [name] 💔’
‘girlie pls drop a tutorial on where to find a guy like this 🙏’
definitely the type to forward it to everyone he knows
and their mother
probably becomes his lockscreen and everytime he holds his thumb against the screen and replays it he’s just so :)
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍
acts like it’s so inconvenient to him and his life 
but really he’s so giddy at the mere thought of your pretty lips all over him
won’t catch him admitting it though
when you first ask him he’ll just be like
🤨 no?? i’m not doing that?? 🤨
and when you say ‘oh okay i’ll just get jeongin to do it with me’ he’s straight into fight or fight mode and hot on ur tail
sitting all >:( on your bed as you go through your makeup looking for a good shade 
but he’s blushing so hard and fiddling with his fingers cause he always gets so shy when he’s about to kiss you
another to try to chase your lips when you’re leaving your lipstick mark over his face 
and you’re just like
‘SEUNGMIN HOW ARE WE MEANT TO DO THIS IF YOU’RE TRYING TO MAKEOUT WITH ME EVERY FIVE SECONDS???’
‘excuse me?? i think i deserve some compensation for agreeing to this dumb trend?’
punch him
right in his pretty face
pls
falls in love with the sight of your lipstick stains all over his face and can’t stop looking at himself in the mirror cause the shape of your lips is just so pretty
but as soon as you catch him smiling at himself in the reflection he’ll go straight from :) to >:( again
has to keep his little tsundere act going you know
surprisingly focused when you get to it 
only takes you around three tries before you get the perfect shot
(he just wanted you to hurry tf up so he could finally makeout with you)
comments go wild 
and he’s just like ‘see, told you the people loved me’
and it’s like ‘bRO YOU DIDN’T EVEN WANNA DO THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE???
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍
so shy
plays it off though and tries to act cool but really he’s melting on this inside
looks into the mirror every time you leave a kiss on his face and is like 
:) you missed a spot :)
but really he just wants you to keep kissing him
before you know it his whole face is stained in your lipstick
takes a good hour before you can even start to think about filming
he’s just too pretty and distracting
especially when he’s looking at you all 🥺 with his lips puckered
gets so nervous once you whip out your phone to record and doesn’t know what tf to do
‘okay … what’s the plan again? does my hair look stupid?? do i look directly into the camera or-‘
gonna have to talk him through this one 😔✊
probably needs a full step by step tutorial to get though this stupid trend 
once he gets it down though he’s a natural
tilting his head all cutely after swiping away the lipstick smudge and smiling at you with so much love that it almost made you forget about the recording 
can’t help but kiss you anyway and it makes tiktok go wild <333
changbin probably sends it into the group chat not even a full minute after it’s posted and clowns tf out of you two
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© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.
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muniimyg · 4 months
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1: the confession // series m.list
note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk
fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston
//
The library is your favourite place. 
At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better. 
You won’t have it this time. 
No way. You have so much work to do!
"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter. 
“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!” 
“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”
“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”
“But then what if I need to throw up—”
“Then throw up.”
“... Jungkook will be there!”
You blink at him. 
“So?”
Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”
His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming. 
Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.
“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy. 
Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”
Your eyes widen.
In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”
“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”
“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion. 
Hobi rolls his eyes at you. 
“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”
Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail. 
He’s right. 
You are dense. 
But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?
“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”
“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you. 
“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"
Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction. 
“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”
“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly. 
You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted. 
Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you. 
He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…
Wow… 
“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.
“... H-hi.”
He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”
Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”
Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”
“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”
Hesitantly, you shake your head. 
“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm. 
If piss drunk, please return to ___. 
(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3
Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back. 
“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”
Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi. 
“She doesn’t wanna go.”
Hobi groans. 
“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”
“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."
He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”
Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out. 
If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook
(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3
(xxx) xxx-xxxx
For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number. 
“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks. 
“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”
“What? Why?”
Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”
Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”
You laugh.
“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”
Hobi turns to Jungkook. 
Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”
With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you. 
“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”
Your body stiffens.
“Do what?”
Jungkook eyes your chair distance. 
“You moved away.”
What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch. 
“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”
“I’m moving closer to you.”
“Why?”
“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”
“N-no!” 
Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”
“N-no…”
“Now you do.”
For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?
Oh god. 
“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?
“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone. 
You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”
Jungkook doesn’t hear you well. 
“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”
You stay silent and contemplate.
Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—
“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”
Then, you blurt it out. 
“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.” 
Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath. 
He doesn’t deny it. 
“I do have a crush on you.”
Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?
“W-what? You can’t j-just—”
Jungkook tilts his head and pouts. 
“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs. 
You hit his chest. 
“This isn’t funny!”
“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”
“Hey! I like it here.”
“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”
“I… I thought you wanted to study.”
Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”
“... To study!”
“To be with you.” 
You shut up. 
No words, no thoughts, no feelings. 
Okay…
Feelings. Lots of them. 
“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."
You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you. 
“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."
You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!
And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—
"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"
1K notes · View notes
gracieheartspedro · 4 months
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No One Fucks With My Baby
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pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)
description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names
author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3
after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie
“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”
You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more. 
You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you. 
“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”
The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison. 
“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”
Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you. 
You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you. 
“Pardon?”
He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”
You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”
“Listen, girl-”
His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself. 
“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”
“I haven’t finished my drin-”
Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him. 
“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”
Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”
He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool. 
“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder. 
“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top. 
You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips. 
“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”
You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”
“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”
Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort. 
“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you. 
“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”
You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare. 
“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation. 
He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”
Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”
“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.
Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad. 
You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks. 
-
“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.” 
He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt. 
“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”
You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”
“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised. 
“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”
He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”
You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”
You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go. 
“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”
You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel. 
“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter. 
Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”
You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time. 
“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”
His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”
You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”
“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”
You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again. 
You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space. 
“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”
He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”
“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”
“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”
“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”
Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips. 
“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours. 
He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”
His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure. 
You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”
He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”
“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement. 
He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts. 
“God, I need you, sweet girl.”
You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.
“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”
You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told. 
“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh. 
“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar. 
Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue. 
The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights. 
He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there. 
“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”
“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright. 
“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”
He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure. 
He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.
Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs. 
“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”
Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”
You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling. 
“So fuckin’ tight.”
He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck. 
“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”
He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples. 
“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”
You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”
“That’s right.”
With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him. 
Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in. 
He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later. 
Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking. 
You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you. 
“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then. 
Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places. 
Life is so mysterious and wonderful. 
He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times. 
His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip. 
“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms. 
He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.
When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist. 
You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear. 
You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down. 
“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely. 
“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin. 
When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression. 
You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe. 
“I love you, Joel.”
He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck. 
“I-I…”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”
Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way. 
He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles. 
“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”
2K notes · View notes
slttygeto · 9 months
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WHAT WAS I MADE FOR?
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⤷ THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY. | something i’m made for
જ⁀➴synopsis: your boyfriend was made to be the center of attention, to receive so much love--not to deal with your sadness like it was his.
જ⁀➴content warning: fem!reader, angst, reader is a little insecure, just v sad, satoru best boy.
જ⁀➴ word count: 0,8k.
⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!
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my boyfriend is so cool
that was always your thought when you went out with him for dinner. he’d invite a bunch of his friends along with their partners, and you’d spend the rest of the night chatting and laughing. you noticed how suguru was always the center of attention, even if he didn’t want to be. his best friend was equally magnetic. like a moth to a flame, they would both shine so bright.
and you’re suguru’s girlfriend. his pretty girl whom he met in college and has been with ever since. three years down the road, and many more to come, as he liked to say. you liked to believe that you and suguru were meant to be together, a match made in heaven. despite your different personalities and approach in life, you always managed to find a way to make it work.
always.
tonight, dinner tasted a little weird on your tongue. you’re sure it’s just you because everyone else seems to be enjoying their food just fine. no one seems to notice the way you scrunch up your face after the first bite, slowly setting the fork down and flashing suguru a polite smile, to which he immediately asks
“are you okay?”
am I okay? you’re not sure if you are, but you nod anyway. you squeeze his shoulder and motion at a friend who was talking to him, asking him to focus on the conversation.
you hated feeling like this. you could feel your stomach hurt, and your heart sinks a little as you try your best to fight back the insecurities. why were they resurfacing at such a time?
you weren’t supposed to feel this way. you’ve talked about this before with suguru, and he reassured you many times that he was dating you because he loved you. even three years later, you still can’t find it in you to tell him that it seems like he deserves better.
not someone who cries when they look in the mirror, or deflate throughout the day for no absolute reason. suguru deserved someone who takes care of him, not a person who is constantly so sad.
you excuse yourself from the table you’re sitting at, muttering to your boyfriend some lame excuse about how you need to fix your makeup. truth be told, if you had stayed at that table any longer, you would’ve thrown up the food and made a mess.
you walk inside the bathroom and as dramatic as it may seem, you lean against the door and let out a sob. it’s quiet, you don’t want anyone to hear you. but then it gets louder and louder until you turn on the faucet to try to drown out the sound of your cries.
this is so stupid.
you’re trying to wipe your makeup, even if it seems a little impossible to fix it right now (but you somehow manage). you’ve been in the bathroom for about 7 minutes now, and you know that if you stay there any longer, suguru would come looking for you.
you step out of the bathroom when you’re sure you look presentable and bump into a strong chest. your heart stills.
please don’t let it be—
“are you okay?” thank god, it was satoru.
you’ve known him ever since you met your boyfriend, and he’s been one of the most reliable friends ever. he was nice, kind, a little cocky but given his looks and fortune, he had a lot to brag about.
“oh, yeah. my stomach was a little upset, come on let’s go—“ you’re avoiding his eyes, but satoru can tell from your swollen lips that something else happened.
“you were crying, weren’t you?” his eyebrows are pinched, and you fight back tears when you look up at him and see the concerned look on his face.
“please, don’t tell suguru.” your voice cracks when you say his name, and satoru’s face morphs into one of confusion.
“but–“
“satoru, please. it’s not what he’s made for.”  
it’s not what he’s made for.
satoru’s lips part in shock, but he can feel his heart clenching a little at your words. he doesn’t know what to tell you, his mind is blank as he stares down at you with icy blue eyes.
“okay then, let’s go back,” he doesn’t press it, slowly leads the way back to your table and you’re immediately overflown with questions from suguru.
“are you okay? is it your stomach? we can get you meds–“
“I’m okay,” you try to reassure him with a warm hand on top of his, but the look on his face tells you that he doesn’t believe you. not one bit.
but suguru doesn’t have to know that you’re not okay. after all, he does deserve better and you’re getting in the way of that. 
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⤷ the song absolutely destroyed me, so i had to write something.
2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
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disneyprincemuke · 5 months
Text
not a gamer * fem!driver
lando manages to convince her to start streaming on twitch with him, leading her to influence others to join her
pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
warnings: butt load of stupidity
notes: initially, i was gonna write a fic solely about max because he was talking about fornite the other day... but i thought how funny would it be if it were to be with some of the guys so here i am
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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"hello, everyone," she smiles, reaching forward to adjust the camera as she squints her eyes. "is this a good angle? let me know if it's flattering, okay? i can't not look good on twitch."
lando has managed to convince her to join him for a stream on twitch, insisting that she should start an account as well. she initially refused, claiming that she's not that well-liked to start an account and have a loyal following. even adding on the fact that she's not even a good gamer to begin with.
but lando said that it doesn't matter, and proved her wrong by setting up a poll on his previous stream just to get her to make an account. which, the effort was very endearing.
"you always look good," she squints, turning away the right where her other monitor sits. she scrunches her nose and turns to the camera to stare into it. "logan, how did you even know i was streaming tonight?"
she rolls her eyes when his reply rolls in, claiming that he follows her twitter where she announced it. "it's time for you to go out and do something else besides stalking me, logan," she scoffs jokingly with the roll of her eyes.
"okay, so this is my first twitch stream!" she beams, sitting up straighter as she grabs her mouse. "i'm just waiting for lando to finish setting up, so i'm afraid you guys are stuck with me alone for a couple of minutes. let's get to know each other, i might be doing this pretty often this winter break just to have a bit of a hobby.
"i wanna know what you guys want to see from me."
a comment immediately rolls in.
user1: i wanna see you play fortnite with lando and max
she grins sheepishly, dropping her head. "guys, i'm not much of a gamer. never have been so this is actually my first time-ish touching games in a long while. my longest experience was playing roblox with my younger brother when we were younger."
user2: how about oscar or logan playing some games?
she presses her lips together, thinking of ways she could be able to convince her best friends to join her for some online games. when, neither of them has really dabbled much in the hobby. "i'm sure logan will be pretty keen to try, but i'm not so sure about oscar. i'll try to convince him, though he's back in australia for the majority of the break, unfortunately. the timezone difference is absolutely insane."
logansargeant: guys, ask her what her hobbies are
"logan, get off my chat!"
logansargeant: im gonna expose you on twitter for cyberbullying
logansargeant: #endcyberbullying2023
user3: #justice4logan
user4: #justice4logan
user5: u should talk about taylor swift
“oh, my god! i should!” she squeals. “we should host a listen party when she releases reputation! how good was the 1989 vault tracks?”
user6: omg ur so right
user7: iion slaps
user8: slut! is my favourite i think
“1989 had the best vault tracks,” she nods, lips pressed together. “my favourite is ‘now that we don’t talk’ because i like calling my mom.”
blythe.yln: where is lando!!!
“guys, i don’t know. he texted me 5 minutes ago saying he was setting up his pc,” she grins into the camera. “hopefully he’s here soon.”
dalton.yln: i miss oscar
oscahpastry: i miss u too
“you’ve got phones, yeah?” she grins, “use it instead of flooding my chat.”
user1: yeah guys, some of us are trying to get her attention
user9: u guys get that enough
user10: leave some for us pls
user11: yeah y so selfish
she scoffs. "right, guys? can you believe these people?"
the discord sound makes her jump, lando's voice filling up her headphones. "yo, i'm sorry! i was looking for my keyboard."
"where'd you find it, lando?"
"under the bed. apparently, that's where i kept it the last time i streamed," lando laughs. "okay, let's start off with a little horror game? it's called phasmophobia."
"a scary game?" she looks at the camera. "why would i willingly play that?"
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"lando, i'm gonna kill you!" she screeches, eyes closing as the creepy sounds from the game boost in her headphones. she peeks through her eye, watching the two hands on her screen before the screen goes foggy.
lando's laughter replaces the eerie sounds of the game, making her roll her eyes. "i told you to hide and close the door!”
“i didn’t know where the stupid door even was!” she screams back, slamming the table. “lando, i don’t wanna play this game anymore!”
“but it’s so fun!”
“lando!”
logansargeant: that was funny
logansargeant: lemme join u some time
user11: omg
user11: half the grid’s gonna be on twitch?
“yeah, i’m so nice, right?” she jokes. “i’m letting them explore different career options. influencer era or something, i believe.”
oscahpastry: i only created an account to annoy her :/
seb.v5: same
user12: no shot thats actually sebastian vettel
maxverstappen1: so we are all just here waiting for an invite from these two???
logansargeant: theyre gatekeeping the stream from us :(
maxverstappen1: i wanna play fortnite
seb.v5: wait i know that game
maxverstappen1: let me join or i’ll report your account
“that’s not very nice, max,” she frowns. she looks away for a second. “lando, max says he’ll report my account if we don’t invite him to play fortnite.”
“oh, let him report you. just make another account, mate!” lando laughs. “ask him to join us phasmophobia! it’s so fun seeing you scream.”
she turns to the camera with a lopsided grin. “chat, tell lando you don’t wanna see me scream in phasmo anymore please. i’m sick of this game, i’ve got no idea what i’m doing, and i haven’t guessed the ghost correctly this entire time.”
logansargeant: keep playing phasmophobia u pussy
oscahpastry: yeah pussy
user5: its v entertaining icl
maxverstappen1: but phasmophobia costs money
“costs money?” she repeats, confusion on her face. “max? do you need financial aid?”
user10: isnt max a millionaire??????
user13: bro is complaining about a game that barely costs anything while getting paid millions a year 💀
oscahpastry: that’s wild ngl
maxverstappen1: wow i just got cyberbullied.
maxverstappen1: i’ll go get it now damn.
she sighs. “guess we’re continuing with this stupid game.”
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“lando, where am i going?” max shouts, her character watching max’s go around in circles, flickering the flashlight on and off. “what am i even supposed to do?”
teaching one person how to play a complicated game like phasmophobia is easy. teaching two, however, is absolutely absurd. lando doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.
“lando, there’s something written in the book!” she cheers, crouching her character down. she leans into her monitor as she tries to make out what it says. “bitch, it says run!”
she quickly gets up and walks out. “don’t have to tell me twice.”
“run where?” max shouts, his character still running in circles. “(y/n), where are you? escort me out.”
“guys, just stay inside the house and help me out!” lando whines, his character flickering the flashlight at max’s. “turn around, max. i’m here with you.”
“i’m going to the van.”
“no, you’re not! come here and camp the ghost with us!”
“absolutely not! i’m so scared shitless!”
“we should’ve just played fortnite, you know.”
“guys, please! you just have to hold the equipment for me.”
“oh, my god! oh, my god! the front door is locked!” she screams. “the front door is locked!”
logansargeant: lol dsurv
oscahpastry: not so tough now (y/n)
user8: LMFAO THAT GHOST IS HUNTIN
user14: dude the chaos is insane
user15: i need her to stream everyday actually
user16: she’s gonna be an influencer i can feel it in my bones
user17: u guys should try valorant
oscahpastry: i’d join if they play valorant
user4: omg thats crazy
user18: i kinda want to see it
user19: max playing valorant? the rage that man would feel
“lando, i’m dead again!” she screeches, slamming her mouse down into her desk. “we should’ve just played fortnite.”
logansargeant: ur issues with the door are hilarious
user4: i’ll be thinking about your inability to hide in a room for days
oscahpastry: evidence that u wouldnt survive a horror movie at all
seb.v5: maybe you should stick to sitting there and looking pretty
user20: OMG SEB CALLED HER PRETTYYYYY
user21: are we all so shocked?
user22: yeah, he looks at that girl like she aligns the stars in the sky on a race weekend
user23: him during her podium celebration cured my depression (real)
logansargeant: girl why r u just stalking lando as a ghost
“lando,” she whispers. “i saw the ghost in the corner for the room.”
“what?” max asks, voice trembling slightly. “what corner?”
“that corner.”
“what corner?”
“there. i’m pointing at it.”
“i can’t see you, stupid. you’re dead.”
“then that’s too bad.”
“i figured what type of ghost it is!” lando cheers. “follow me, max. let’s get out of this stupid house and play your stupid fortnite or something.”
“oh, how lovely! i saw (y/n)’s chat… something about valorant,” max mutters, following lando through the dark house. “i’ve seen that on tiktok and it looks kinda- lando, why’d you close the door?”
“i told you i saw the ghost lurking more than usual,” she mutters.
“i don’t even know what that means!” max shouts.
“i didn’t close the door, mate!” lando laughs. “go and hide in a room, max!”
“where? i don’t know where to go!” max screams, frantically running around in hopes of finding solace somewhere.
her character follows behind the entity in the game, clearly running around to find max. “oh, she’s coming for you, max! she’s angry!”
“i don’t know where to go!” max screams, his character running by the entryway in confusion. “lando, where do i go?”
“max, she’s coming! go in the closet!”
“what closet? oh, okay! i see it!”
“close the door, max!”
“what door- oh! okay!”
“did he live?”
“i think so. the ghost is lurking outside max’s door,” she grins into the camera, watching the entity walk back and forth outside the room max is in.
“don’t come out yet.”
“not even a chance, mate.”
“okay, she’s gone,” she sighs. “i’m gonna log out and create an account on fortnite.”
“we’re not gonna play valorant?”
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“okay, chat, we’re waiting for oscar to finish the tutorial,” she smiles. “we should be in our first game in a couple of minutes.”
user24: bro ur tutorial was horrendous
user25: i love watching people be bad at valorant
user26: shes so real for that though
user27: she’d play sage for sure
seb.v5: i can’t believe you got oscar to join you
user28: and logan 🤨
user17: outrageous that i’ve been begging the grid to join lando’s streams and here she comes casually getting them to play silly games
user3: real
user28: everyone say thank you (y/n)
blythe.yln: i can’t believe u didnt ask me to join u
blythe.yln: i’m the best at valorant
blythe.yln: i’m better than dalton
user29: YES BLYTHE SPEAK YOUR TRUTH
“so, what do i do again, dalton?” lando asks softly. “what’s the ‘e’ button do?”
“puts up a wall,” the younger kid says. “and then it heals you too, but damages other people. even your teammates.”
“who’s this eminem looking bro?” max asks, giggling slightly. “frank ocean, i saw on tiktok.”
user30: my roman empire is blythe being a pro valorant player but this is the first time her sister is trying the game
“well, i’m sorry for doing other things than playing valorant,” she jokes with a smile. “but, yes, guys! blythe plays valorant for a living which is exactly why we didn’t invite her to play.”
user31: blythe is a pro val player!!?!?!?
user31: since when??
blythe.yln: yeah guys follow my twitch, i’ll treat u better
“i’m going to ban you from my chat if you keep marketing, blythe,” she frowns, though a smile creeping up on her face. “where is dalton?”
blythe.yln: dalton is my valorant spawn… i taught him what he knows
user31: dalton to go pro in a couple years?
user32: omg that’s crazy
user1: the yln’s are gonna take over the valorant scene
user6: blythe getting a redbull gaming clutch would be to die for
“mate, dalton, what’s this girl in the yellow jacket do? she looks stylish,” oscar asks.
“she’s got a turret and grenades,” dalton answers simply.
“alright, how do i get her?”
“you gotta play the game.”
“oh, what? that’s so unfair.”
“yeah, i’m sure that sucks that you’ve got to play the game, oscar,” she says. “where is logan?”
“i’m sorry,” the sigh in logan’s sentence making her laugh. “i got stuck.”
“how?” oscar asks with a laugh. “they literally tell you what to do.”
“i couldn’t find the buttons they were asking me to press,” logan mumbles with a hint of disappointment.
“are you actually intellectually hindered, mate?” she cries with a laugh, covering her eyes. “do you not frequent a laptop?”
“not really, no.”
“it shows,” oscar adds on.
blythe.yln: he’s gonna be shit
user5: so real i can alr see it
user11: dude they’re gonna be screaming at each other soon
“let’s do a quick test game,” dalton mutters as logan’s in-game name pops up on the screen. “just a short game.”
“with real people?” lando asks in a small voice. “that can trash talk me?”
“just trash talk them back, mate,” max answers. “easy.”
“just find their ip address and hit them,” logan suggests. “that’s easier.”
“what?”
“don’t pretend like you wouldn’t do it too, (y/n)!” logan whines. “come on, let’s start!”
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“how do i defuse the spike?” max screams, looking at the ground as he runs around. “where even is it?”
“your left,” dalton says. “keep walking.”
blythe is now sat next to her older sister, leg propped up in her seat as she watches the screen.
“okay, okay, go to the right and look right here,” blythe mutters, pointing at the screen. “and then aim right here,” she adjusts her sister’s mouse, “when you see somebody, shoot.”
“that’s not fair. (y/n)’s literally got a pro helping her with the game,” oscar complains.
“you’re dead. literally doesn’t matter if someone’s helping you or not,” logan states. “we suck, man.”
“okay, i figured out how to defuse the bomb,” max says softly. “what now?”
“learn to play better,” blythe says loud enough for the microphone to pick up her voice. “i’ll teach you guys.”
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“thank you for tuning into my stream,” she grins with a clap. “i appreciate all of the support and teaching me how to play the games. and roasting me.”
logansargeant: bro we suck
seb.v5: should stick to racing and leave gaming to blythe and dalton
“i read each and every comment you guys sent in the chat and they’re all very endearing. except yours, seb,” she stares into the camera with a stern expression, “yours were just outright unnecessary and kinda mean.”
oscahpastry: start a podcast next
maxverstappen1: i wanna be first guest
user16: please stream regularly!!
user10: make oscar play lethal company or i’ll cry
oscahpastry: stop giving her ideas
user21: when r u streaming again
“i will try to stream in a couple of days, after my shoots and marketing stuff with the team,” she grins. “thank you for watching me scream for 4 hours. catch you guys soon. stay kind and stay safe.”
user2: i’ll miss you 🫶🏼
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun
1K notes · View notes
earthtooz · 1 year
Text
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x : NO FEAR :*+゚ i wanna love you with no fear !
in which: itoshi rin rejected you, so why isn't he handling your avoidance well?
warnings: 5k wc, fluff with minor angst, jealous!rin, food cw, swearing, reo is reader's best friend, COLLEGE!AU, gn!reader, non-canon complaint
a/n: happy valentine's day !!! shoutout to @ryekoo for finally giving me inspo on what to do for the rin fic of my event - u rly saved my life &lt;3
↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊
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you:i’m going to end you. <reo3: i’m too pretty to die ._. you: and you told me i was too pretty for itoshi rin to reject!?!?!?! <reo3: oh... <reo3: i’m sorry. <reo3: condolences fr.
with a disappointed sigh, you pocket your phone, decidedly ignoring the next few messages that reo sends as you wait for your bus. he owes you a million yen for the amount of grief and distress he’s currently putting you through, especially with the way he shattered all hopes you had with your love life.
well, hopes that you were stupid enough to feed into because this was itoshi rin you’re talking about; possibly the most standoffish, calculated, and devastatingly gorgeous man you’ve ever met in your life. yet, despite his detestable personality, you still found yourself falling hook, line, and sinker for the man, despite his insults, cold comments, and dismissive attitude.
maybe it’s masochism. 
now that you look back on it, rin’s rejection seemed almost inevitable. even if you lead yourself to hope with all the times you caught him staring at you, the prompt replies to your messages, and willingness to somewhat tolerate you during group projects, it was rather obvious that this would be the outcome to your heartfelt confession. 
‘i don’t see you like that’.
it’s cringeworthy simply thinking about it. now you’re going to have another memory that’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.
recalling the expression he made after your confession; eyebrows scrunched and lips tugged into a slight frown, was traumatising enough for you to wish for the ground to swallow you whole. his face will plague you for an uncertain amount of time because today truly, was so very humbling.
the sight of your bus approaching your stop rouses you from the crevices of your thoughts and after you jump on and settle yourself into a seat in the relatively empty carriage, you bring your phone out to text reo again. he’d sent four messages since.
&lt;reo3: this doesn’t make any sense we all thought rin was into you &lt;reo3: like DOWN BAD into you<reo3: everyone on the team has literally made bets on you two <reo3: i’m sorry :c r u okay?  you: yeah. just gotta take the L and move on you: hey at least i’m free for valentines <reo3: LET’S GOOO we’re definitely doing something <reo3: i’ll be a better valentines than r*n you: you’re sexier too babes xoxo <reo3: duh!
maybe you’ll let reo see another day. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
your university schedule was never the same after the ‘itoshi rin’ fiasco.
it was never an amazing schedule to begin with since a few classes were quite inconvenient, and there’s only so much to enjoy out of your seminars. the fun part about them was being able to sit beside rin and talk to him whenever you could without getting waved off, but since his heartless decline of your feelings, acting ‘buddy-buddy’ wouldn’t be acceptable. so you resorted to sit by yourself in a section of the space you’ve never really occupied before, busying yourself on your phone as students walked in to class.
despite the temptation to look at the door to see when rin would come in, you do not budge one bit, eyes glued to your phone screen (which had nothing entertaining on it). this meant that you couldn’t see the confusion on his face when he didn’t see you in your normal spot and how it merged further into a look of offence when he instead spots you across the room.
reluctantly taking his usual seat, rin’s gaze lingers on you, hoping to meet your eyes at least once. but upon your insistence to pretend your phone was more important than him, he sits down, practically flopping onto his chair with his backpack cushioning his fall. 
sitting here feels a little empty. rin can’t help but think how it used to be much better when you insisted on being next to him.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 
&lt;;reo3: you can come now rin isn’t here yet
you: kk b there soon
the trek across campus towards the university’s soccer field, although long, is harmless enough, especially since you were doing a favour for your best friend by bringing the soccer guards and water bottle that he left at your dorm. the harmful part was the looming threat of itoshi rin’s presence and your fear that you would encounter him on your way. 
all you needed to do was drop in quickly and leave. 
when you get to the field, nagi’s the one who sees you first from where he was lounging on the bleaches, changed in his soccer gear. 
“oh, y/n,” he mumbles, sitting up. “hello.”
“hey nagi. are you trying to nap before practice or something?” you ask.
“yeah.” 
“won’t that drain you though before practice starts? you’ve got like… five minutes.”
“still classified as a power nap. wanna collect a power up before startin’.”
amusing as ever, he is. “sure. hey, you know where reo is?”
“he’s changed, probably warming up with isagi and bachira and whoever else.”
“shouldn’t you be doing that too?”
“not until reo forces me to.”
as if on cue, a friendly and very familiar voice calls out nagi’s name and you’re delighted to see the purple-haired in question. you can finally give him his stupid stuff back; the ones you’ve been holding in your hands this entire time like an idiot.
“come on nagi!” reo exclaims, jogging over. a smile appears on his face when he sees you. “yo! y/n! thanks for bringing my things.”
“‘s not a problem. next time i’ll burn them so don’t leave them again,” you counter as the purple-haired takes his things from you with an eye roll. “i filled up your water bottle for you.” 
he places his things down before sitting beside nagi to put his guards on. “so considerate even whilst terrorising me.”
“of course.”
“seriously though, thank you for bringing my things.”
“not a problem. i’m gonna head back to my dorm to study so i’ll see you later. bye reo, bye nagi,” you wave at the two, fixing your backpack strap before turning around to leave the field, only to bump face-first into someone.
the apology that surfaces on your tongue quickly withers away when you lock eyes with a pair of steely, teal ones, partially hidden by strands of dark hair. he looks at you like he has something to say.
but you’re not ready to hear it. 
“uh, hi rin! gotta go!” you squeak before stepping to the side and running away, leaving rin to stare in bewilderment after you.
part of him has the urge to run after you. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
<reo3: isagi’s invited a bunch of us to the on campus screening of spirited away
<reo3: wanna come?
you: ykw why not
you: not like i have essays to write
<reo3: FUCK THEM ESSAYS! 
you: YOU’RE RIGHT SPIRITED AWAY IS BETTER !
if you knew that this would lead you to be seated (uncomfortably) between reo and isagi, who acted as the only barrier between you and an-unnamed-man (rin), then perhaps you would’ve dedicated yourself to your essay rather than a fun opportunity to hang out with your friends. 
1500 words sounds better than having to pretend like there wasn’t an icy cold stare penetrating the back of your head every time you turned to talk to reo, or isagi trying to keep his interactions up with rin so the latter wouldn’t try to talk to you.
you owe isagi a vending machine drink after this because a ‘thank you’ will never suffice. 
it’s easy enough to forget about rin when the movie plays and isagi begins whispering little pieces of commentary to you from time to time, eliciting giggles from you that you try to suppress to not annoy those around you. however, each sound that slipped past your lips was enough to make the dark-haired boy scrunch his face in disgust, an ugly, green monster climbing up his throat when he catches a glimpse of how happy you seemed with someone that wasn’t him. it kills him to see how easily it is for you to just ignore him like your friendship never existed.
since the campus movie was scheduled during a cool but bearable, autumn dusk, you severely underestimated how cold the night would get. heating wasn’t the best in the gymnasium so the committee had instructed everyone to bring their own blankets and warm covers, yet in your haste, you couldn’t bring adequate layers.
so after a while of trying to warm yourself up and convincing yourself that you were warm enough with a measly sweatshirt, rin notices from the corner of his eye how you kept rubbing your arms. 
he doesn’t hesitate to take off the fleece jacket that he was wearing over his university jumper. sure, it will be significantly colder without his outer layer, but rin’s willing to suffer as long as you were okay (when has he ever been this considerate?), except he stops when he sees nagi handing you his very oversized jumper. you accept it with a gracious smile and the white-haired boy merely shrugs before going back to watching the film. rin, on the other hand, feels a cauldron of rage brewing within him.
the sight makes his chest twist, wringing him dry as he stares dejectedly at how snug you seem in someone else’s clothes. the green monster inside of rin bubbles in contempt, a being that makes him want to rip the hoodie off you and replace it with his own for you to wrap yourself up in. he wants you to be content with him- happy because of him, not because of another.
you confessed to him only two weeks ago- barely even two weeks ago, so how could you so easily forget about him and move on? pretend like his rejection didn’t shatter you and him when he saw a devastation like no other on your pretty face?
rin doesn’t know how much longer he can live like this. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
the following tuesday, you’re already seated in your new spot for your seminar, busy setting up your laptop in preparation when rin walks in. you see him from the corner of your eye, backpack slung around his shoulder, hands tucked unassumingly in his pockets as all 185cm of him saunters towards the seats. however, when you notice that he bypasses his normal spot and walks even further out of your peripheral vision, alarms blare deafeningly in your head.
you freeze when you hear someone take the seat behind you.
there’s a hard gaze on the back of your head, one that roots you to your spot and wills you not to turn around.
sneaking out your phone from your bag, you hide it so that rin can’t see it from his angle. 
you: RIN IS SITTING BEHIND ME OH NO
you: terrible start to valentines day smh
<reo3: WHAT!??!!???!???! fr.
you: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY I’M GOING TO DISINTEGRATE RIGHT NOW
<reo3: maybe *don’t* do that???? 
<reo3: WHY’S HE SITTING BEHIND YOU?????
you: FUCK IF I KNOW IT FEELS LIKE HE’S THROWING DAGGERS AT MY HEAD
<reo3: WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO?
you: CRY???????????? IDFK???????????
you: oh fuck class is about to start
you: i’ll let you know if anything happens
<reo3: STAY SAFE 
you tuck your phone away with fear and dread looming over you, personified through the form of itoshi rin, who sits so indifferently behind you, head propped on his hand. you hear his pen click behind you and you don’t even need to see him to know that he’s taking out that stupid notebook of his since he preferred to take notes by hand. you want to turn around and rip said book into shreds.
as the professor starts the class, you try your best to shake rin out of your thoughts, wanting to leave him behind in the depths of your mind so you can concentrate on this damn elective. none of the notes you were typing onto your document made sense and it felt like everything the professor was saying went in one ear then out the other. curse rin for having this effect on you. 
at least you get to gossip with reo after this.
though your seminar was only 60 minutes, it might as well have been 60 years because of how significantly older you feel at the end of it. the weight of rin’s stare was heavy on your shoulders when you hurriedly grab your things and make a dash for the exit.
well. you try to make a dash for the exit because somehow, rin gained the ability to teleport and beat you there, grabbing your wrist unceremoniously before pulling you into the hallways. you fumble with your phone, hurriedly texting reo.
you: UHH MAYDAY I MGHT NEEE TO SKIP OUR PLANS
<reo3: WHAT’S HAPPENING?????
you: RIN IS DRSGGING ME SIMEWHERE IDK WHERE
you: MY LOCARION IS ON LIFE360
you: I LUV YOU STUPID WHORE
<reo3: WHDJFWIJAIDJFAWHAT THE FUCK????
“hey!” you exclaim, helplessly being pulled by rin’s long strides, shutting your phone off as you try to match his eagerness. he could at least be a little more considerate and lighten up that grip of his on your wrist. “rin- what? where are we going?”
“you’ll see,” he responds gruffly.
your mind blanks despite the hurricane of questions that circulate your mind. how did you get here? is the delirium finally hitting you after countless sleepless nights? you stayed up until 2am last night to make valentine’s chocolates for your friends so maybe it’s the sugar and the sleep deprivation. 
as rin pulls you through the hallways, you think about how weird it is to allow him this close to you again- well, you didn’t exactly allow him, he kind of just… invaded your personal space. but after a whole week of not talking to him, responding dryly to his texts, avoiding your regular hangout spots, and overall pretending like he doesn’t exist, being exposed to his intimidating presence once more is… exhilarating? unreal? 
“wait, can we stop for a second?” you demand, breaking out of your funk when you step outside as if the harshness of the sun’s rays woke you up. “i’m so confused right now. where are we going?”
“we’re going to have lunch together at that café you’ve been wanting to try out,” he tells you with a serious expression, not breaking his usual aloof and stern personality. 
rin doesn’t give mixed messages: no, he gives messages that have completely been lost, fallen astray somewhere along the path of communication.
shifting your weight between your feet awkwardly, you tell him: “well, i kinda had valentine’s plans.”
his mask of coolness and uninterest cracks, exposing all the emotions he’s been withholding from surfacing for the past weeks; jealousy, envy, greed, they all manifest through the helpless scrunch of his face. “with who?” asks rin, tone a lot harsher than he had intended, matching the crease of his eyebrows and the frown he was wearing.
it’s the green monster in him talking.
if you were going out with someone else, someone new, rin’s not too sure what he’d do. determination and pettiness can only take a man so far before his resolve cracks and you have the power to crush his heart with a single stomp, extinguishing his flames in one, swift sweep. 
“with reo,” you confess. the dark-haired relaxes again, his face returning to a neutral expression.
“okay. ditch him then.” his audacity is baffling.
“i can’t just do that!” 
“why not?”
“cause that’s a shitty thing to do!” you say, before murmuring under your breath, “not that you’d know the first thing about being polite.” 
“i don’t care, it’s reo, you two hang out everyday. tell him to give me a turn.”
“you’re a horrible person, rin,” you murmur, ignoring the butterflies that erupt in your stomach.
he doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely eyeing you expectantly, waiting for your next step. huffing, you reluctantly take out your phone as a sign of surrender under his suffocating pressure, muttering complaints under your breath as you find reo’s contact - literally your most recent one, to send him a quick message. almost instantly, your best friend responds with a thumbs up paired with a smirk and you almost want to block him then and there. 
“done.”
“perfect,” rin goes to grab your hand again but you retract from him just in time. when you look up to meet his gaze once more, you see his unimpressed expression whilst he keeps his palm extended towards you expectantly.
“i don’t need your help walking places,” you grumble, not liking how fast your heart was racing.
he gestures to his open palm once more. “i know.”
after a moment of silence, you give in, hesitantly placing your hand in his. with a small grin, rin intertwines your fingers before pulling you to his side. without another word, he begins walking, leaving you to merely follow the brutally fast pace he’s set.
you must’ve looked ridiculous to other people. being dragged around by an 185 cm man, how humbling.
the place rin led you to was not too far from campus; a totally manageable distance for the two of you to remain in silence during the walk. you try to bypass the awkwardness of it all by focusing on other things, like how warm rin’s hand is and how you hope he doesn’t mind your sweaty hands. he seems to be content from what you’ve observed, happily walking beside you whilst sparing a few occasional glances over; ones that you pretend you don’t see whilst admiring the cityscape around you.
there are various valentine’s decorations hung up around the insides of the cafe that made you cringe slightly. although they were very cute, you feel humiliation climbing up your throat, serving as a reminder that you were currently spending a day of love and romance, or whatever, standing beside the very man who rejected you. 
this is the cruellest version of a sick joke.
“welcome!” a cheery voice greets, breaking you out of your thoughts. “table for two?” rin nods. “perfect! are you here for valentine’s day because couples get access to a special menu on top of our regular one.” 
when you open your mouth to reject her offer, rin beats you to it. “we’ll take the valentine’s menu.”
“okay, right this way,” the waitress guides you to an empty table for two that was right by the corner. the atmosphere of the place was cozy with various candles and statement pieces to really bring it together, but you have no time or brain space to appreciate the aesthetic of the café. 
it’s not until the waitress leaves that you speak up, utterly confused. “why’d you get the valentine’s menu, we-”
realisation hits you like a truck. 
“-are we on a date right now?”
rin’s unmoving, save for the purse of his lips as he stares at you. you feel a little foolish right now.
“yeah, we are,” he answers, curtly and concisely.
alarms are blaring in your head, the earth is tremoring below you, there are distant screams somewhere in the back of your mind and all you can manage out is a simple ‘oh’. 
“get what you want, i’ll-” rin begins before you abruptly cut him off.
“-no, hold on, i’m so confused right now,” you rub your temples, staring at the stupid valentine’s day menu decorated with pink and hearts and chocolates. “why?”
“why what?”
“why are we on a date?”
“because it’s valentine’s day?”
“well- i know that part,” you murmur under your breath. “it’s just, y’know, people celebrate this day when they like each other.” and not when one party is miserable because the other rejected them. 
“we do like each other though.”
there are no words to describe the shock you feel. really. not even an anvil dropping on your head could wake you up from whatever dream you are conjuring right now. 
“no, we don’t! i like you, you don’t like me.”
he looks away, the tips of his ears turning red. “that’s not true,” he murmurs, no louder than a whisper, yet your jaw drops all the same at his confession. “i do like you.”
“a week ago you didn’t!” 
“a week ago i wasn’t ready to get into a… relationship… or whatever.”
“oh,” you fix the strap of your bag, feeling slightly awkward. “and you’re ready now all of a sudden?”
“yeah.”
“i don’t believe you.”
“the fuck? why?” 
“you don’t really seem like the type of guy to turn around on yourself like this. what changed?”
rin won’t ever tell you about how much he missed you during these two weeks and how it was his jealousy and greediness that spurred him to act on his feelings. instead, he simply slides the menu to you, pointing to a milkshake-‘lover’s brew’, and since the menu was decorated with pictures on the side, you could see what the concoction consisted of. whipped cream, heart sprinkles, topped with a caramel heart and fairy floss. 
“the milkshake?” you ask, trailing off towards the end. “you hate sweet things and this especially looks like it could give you diabetes.”
the dark-haired shrugs. “so? i thought you’d like it.” 
“sure, but it is kinda pricey for a milkshake.”
he shrugs again, putting his elbows on the table which causes his sleeves of his turtleneck to roll down a little, exposing the shiny silver of his, no doubt expensive, watch. “i’ll pay for us, it’s fine.”
“hold on-”
“i’m paying. end of argument.” 
it’s an offer you can’t really reject. being a university student and all, funds are limited, so wherever you can, you want to avoid withdrawing money out of your account. that said, it doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about draining rin’s, but with how long you’ve been friends, you know that once he’s set his mind to something, it’s hard to change it.
“if you insist,” you grumble, straightening up your spine as you awkwardly fiddle with your shirt. you feel so scrutinised under his gaze, even as you reach for the jug of water and pour two cups of water. “what else should we get?”
the waitress then comes around to take your orders and when she’s gone, conversation flows easily, reverting back to how things were between the two of you (to rin’s relief). he listens as you talk animatedly about the unfortunate series of events you had with your professor the other day, how cute your encounter with the campus dogs were, and the really unfortunate run-in you had with a guy from your shared tutorial classes.
(the dark-haired boy makes a face when you mention another man’s name before his usual face of indifference melts back in.)
“here’s your milkshake,” the waitress says, placing the drink in the middle of the table before walking away, “you guys are really cute by the way.”
“thanks,” rin says calmly, a stark contrast to your flustered reaction.
two straws stick out from the milkshake and when you put one in your mouth, you almost choke when rin takes the other one, causing your noses to bump in the middle. the look he gives you is nothing short of mischievous before pulling away, a knowing smirk playing along his lips. 
“ew. that is really sweet,” he mutters before leaning back, crossing his arms. 
“yeah,” you cough. “it is really sweet.”
recovering from your embarrassment, the rest of lunch goes by quite seamlessly. he goes to pay for everything with a confident tap of his card, causing you to stand awkwardly behind him, keeping all complaints to yourself as it goes through. thanking the waitress, you leave the café hand-in-hand once more. 
“thanks again for paying,” you repeat and rin gives a hum of acknowledgement whilst you two walk aimlessly on the path. “what do you want to do now?”
“i don’t know. do you have anything you want to do?”
“i might have an idea.”
leading him in the direction of a nearby store that just opened recently, you come to a stop in front of a shop that had neon-lights illuminating its inside and claw machines filled with adorable plushies lining along the walls. 
glancing at him, there’s a glimmer of amusement in rin’s eyes as his lips turn upwards into a small smirk. “really?” he asks, looking over at you.
“really. this’ll be fun!” you promise before walking in, the dark-haired following suit as you stop in front of a token-purchasing machine. 
from the corner of your eye, you can see him taking out his wallet already and you immediately put your hand on your wrist, ceasing his movement.
with just one glance, a whole conversation passes between you two. “if you pay for me i will sock you.”
“i’d like to see you try,” he deadpans, quirking a brow before pressing the ‘20 tokens = $19’ button on the machine, “but i’m paying.”
then the sound of his card meeting the reader and the transaction being approved rings through the air, followed by the deafening noise of coins clashing against metal. the look he gives you is nothing short of proud. 
“come on babe, bet you won’t be able to get any prizes,” challenges rin as he brushes past you, the pet name causing your stomach to churn as insults rest on your tongue, offended by his declaration.
he’s gracious enough to give you half of the coins, allowing you to play four games each. you only manage to win on one of them and even then, you were astonished at your own achievements, excitedly grabbing the plushie and hugging the stuffed toy to your chest protectively. rin, on the other hand, comes back to you with two in both hands and the gawk you let out was completely against your will.
“how did you do that?” you ask, a little stupified at the sight (it was kinda hot though). although at this point, you shouldn’t really question how itoshi rin works since he takes the meaning of ‘march to the beat of your own drum’ to a whole other level. 
instead of answering, he hands them over to you and you have no choice but to take them, your arms now overloaded with three stuffed toys. 
before you can even open your mouth to ask if he broke into the machines, your phone buzzes with a notification and the second you open it, you’re met with a familiar ‘⚠️bereal’ banner, one that makes you excited over the impeccable timing. rin raises an eyebrow at your sudden surprise.
“bereal! quick, pose!” you demand and rin obeys, raising a peace sign with a slight smile before the camera turns around to you and the many stuffed toys you’re cuddling. 
how adorable you are might just kill him. 
the dark-haired shakes the thought away before taking out his phone, instructing you to smile. you pose for the photo, hugging all the plushies closely to your chest whilst rin gives his usual deadpan stare into the camera. he then gives you his phone to check if it was okay to post and when you approve, you press the ‘post >’ button for him.
shutting off his phone for him, it’s at the same time that the bereal notification pops up again, this time detailing how one of his friends had posted but that’s not what caught your attention.
it’s a certain photo that made your heart thump loudly in its ribcage.
“am i your lockscreen?” you ask, pride and flattery swelling in your stomach, manifesting through the warmth of your cheeks. 
the slight widening of his eyes give you all the answers you need. “you weren’t supposed to see that.” 
nothing could stop the slow grin from erupting on your expression. it’s ridiculous to say so, but it almost feels like a weight is being lifted from your chest, the pains of the last few weeks erasing themselves completely with this one detail. 
that’s how you know rin was meant for you.
“out of all pictures of me, you chose this one?” you question, gesturing to the selfie that you once sent him during your study sessions. your hair was messy, there was a semi-crazed look in your eyes, but at least the moisturising lip gloss you had reapplied then made you look somewhat put together. 
looking at his phone once more, you feel a little warm.
“i like it,” he mutters shyly, unable to look you in the eye. despite his embarrassment, his statement fills you with endless relief, providing gratification for your relationship with rin that you didn’t know you needed. 
though you’ve been friends with him for quite some time now, you feel as though you don’t really recognise the man in front of you. past perceptions you’ve had of him has now been shattered by his flustered gaze, the relentless blush coating his cheeks, and the uncharacteristic way he slumps, as if defending himself from any judgement you might throw at him. 
luckily for him, that’s not what you’re interested in doing.
unlocking your phone, you hand it to him. “take a matching selfie so i can make it my lock screen too.”
at least you have all the time in the world to get to know him all over again.
(rin will never tell you that he only has been active on bereal so he could see what you were up to. except it backfired every time because instead of satisfying how desperately he was longing for you during your two weeks of no contact, it only made him want you more. he wanted to be there with you through your intense study sessions, he wanted to be going on walks with you, he wanted to be there with you when you were watching one more episode of your favourite tv show before going to bed, he just wanted to be there with you.
now he has all the time to make sure he is.)
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
[@y/n’s BeReal]
@ karasu69: @fruityninjaotoya YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS   → @fruitninjaotoya: Shut your micropenis up
@ yocchan: Y/N WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS   → @ nagixxxxxxxxxxxxx: ratio   → @ yocchan: DON’T RATIO ME RN
@monsterbachira: omg are y’all 😍❤️😍 rn   → @y/n: wut.   → @itshrin: Yes   → @monsterbachira: y/n rin is actually a good kisser   → @y/n: thanks for letting me know meguru!   → @itshrin: i’m going to end you. 
@bbgreo: i’m glad y’all had fun but no itoshi rin on our platonic date pls!   → @y/n: would never dream of it luv <3   → @itshrin: Sleep with one eye open, Reo   → @y/n: that’s my best friend :(   → @itshrin: You don’t need him   → @y/n: reo and i are one you can’t separate us   → @itshrin: Ok fine 😒   → @bbgreo: yay!   → @y/n: yay!
<reo3: told you you were too pretty to reject xx
8K notes · View notes
angelstate · 3 months
Text
“Unprioritized Love”
Husband!Price x Wife!Reader
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Price is a loyal person, he thinks about everyone else before himself and doesn’t hesitate to do something he normally would be against if it means saving the people he cares for, it truly is a blessing at times, the way his priorities don’t falter…until they do.
because he is a loyal person but does not know or pretends not to know in which situations he should stand by one person instead of the other, it’s conflicting for him to choose someone when another person is also expecting his support.
it hurts a lot when you’re caught in that sort of situation with him, you’re his lover, his companion in life, and the person he returns home to, but you’re also the person he leaves behind for his team, you’re the one who waits around for him while the team gets him almost all the time.
and you know jealousy isn’t healthy, that you shouldn’t resent anyone because it's his job, he has to leave to provide for you, you cannot bite the hand that feeds you, it would be wrong, it wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be fair for him.
so you bite your tongue and nod like a child when he tells you about his job, about him going away once more, for longer this time. and the tears in your eyes are hard to be held back, because God, it hurts a lot to be left behind, all by yourself. away from your family and your lover, only an empty home to satisfy your basic needs.
He doesn’t mean to be an absent presence, the lack of a lover in your life. He truly doesn’t mean to give so little to you, to not hold you every night. but between his job and you…he knows which one he isn’t choosing even if he doesn’t say it out loud. 
“I'll be back when I can, alright?” he speaks, voice gruff as he looks around the room, his hands on his hips, you stay seated on the couch, knees close to your chest and your eyes glued to the TV for a distraction, is better to pretend you don’t care than to show him how much you are beginning to hate the dynamic he created in your life.
“mhm” you hum in agreement, taking a big breath and holding it in before exhaling through your nose, not trusting that if you open your mouth, a sob wouldn’t escape, Price notices the lack of words from your part, you always have something to say, a small joke to make about him better bringing you a souvenir or something from his “trip” but when this time you don’t speak or even dare to look at him makes him anxious.
“Want me to bring you something?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you, looking towards the TV, a baking program playing, and your focus on the show makes him raise an eyebrow, you aren’t one to enjoy cooking so he doesn't understand why you’re watching it. 
“no thanks” you respond, and the answer makes him feel like he’s done something wrong that made you upset, the last 4 days he’s been home replaying in his mind, trying to remember what could’ve made you get angry with him, nothing comes to mind sadly, and he feels clueless about everything surrounding you. 
“I thought you don’t like cooking” He decides to comment, shifting the conversation to something more banal and easy to speak about. “I started baking almost 8 months ago” you answer him back, voice flat and your eyes strained on the TV, the recipe to make pavlova having your main focus, it makes Price frustrated, how you won’t look at him, won’t give him the time of day when he’s leaving tomorrow.
you don’t expect him to know how your life develops and the things that change when he's away most of the time, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to pay you attention when he already has a tough and complicated job to do, his salary pays for the kitchen supplies and food after all. it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to know you... god, how stupid is that?
“You didn’t tell me” Price states, his voice carrying a heaviness that reveals he is irritated about not being told something he should’ve known if he paid attention to the new things in the kitchen like the stand mixer next to the electric oven. 
“I thought I mentioned it when I gave you to try the brownies I made yesterday” you retort, your eyes landing on him for a second before returning to the TV, your gaze isn’t welcoming or warm and it creates a pit on his stomach to see you so detached and unresponsive to something he knew should make you upset.
It brings a sort of heaviness to his chest as he notices he doesn’t have the right to feel offended about not being told something when you should be upset about him not noticing in the first place something that occurred in his own home. It is hypocritical and he knows it.
Price stays silent for a long time, the sound of the TV filling in the silence that was created between the two of you, he feels out of place, not knowing how to answer you, what to do, what is the problem he feels he should be fixing right now.
“you should start packing” you comment after almost five minutes, and that phrase is said with a monotone tone, not one of sadness or a little bit of frustration that he’s leaving again, it's a tone that just states the obvious, you declare that he should pack his bag once more because otherwise he would leave with nothing for his mission and that wouldn’t be optimal.
“Can you help me pack?” He asks for a favor you often offer without him mentioning wanting your help. tonight you don’t offer assistance, almost like you aren’t faced by his departure, used to his absence, used to his side of the bed being empty.
“I’m watching TV” you speak and his heart breaks a little bit, you don’t sound apologetic as you often do when you’re not able to help him, and he’s leaving but he feels you left instead, that the girl he married is no longer in the house even though he has you in front of him, too focused on looking at the tv to help him.
he nods at your answer and doesn’t try to persuade you into doing something you don’t want to, it wouldn’t be fair to force you to help him just because he wants you to, it isn’t fair for you to give a hand and for him to take your arm. Loving someone isn’t really fair.
Only when he leaves the living room to go pack do your tears make their way out of your eyes, running down your cheeks as you cry silently, vision too blurry to even distinguish the images on the TV, it feels almost pathetic to be crying alone, your lover packing to leave and not be able to bring yourself to help him abandon you once again.
If you were his pet it would be abuse for him to just leave, but you're a woman and therefore being alone and left behind isn’t unexpected, being the one to stay home is almost an obligation when your lover leaves to provide for you even if you wish they stayed.
you’re not sure how it begins to be fair to be put in this situation, when the missions of 4 weeks turned into 4 months. When knowing everything about each other turned into barely remembering anniversaries and birthdays.
You don’t want to say the relationship fell apart because you doubt there’s anything at all to be destroyed anymore, you love him though, the pain in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes are proof of that, but you are not sure John loves you.
It’s uncertain how he views you after not spending time together for almost two years, you doubt there is nothing more than just an acknowledgment of your existence in his life, a statement that he knows you're his partner but not enough love to call you his lover.
“Why are you crying darling?” the sudden voice of Price pulls you out of your thoughts, the place next to you on the couch sinking as he takes a sit beside you, resting his elbows on his knees while his eyes examine your expression, you look utterly distraught about something, your breathing uneven and shaky as you begin to sob loudly, unable to talk as all your emotions came crashing down.
and the sight of you crying, digging your nails into your thighs, and being desperate for a peace that will not come, makes a heavy feeling of guilt and worry sit on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around your waist and another under your knees, bringing you into his lap and putting your face on the crook of his neck while you cried, sobs muffled against his skin, your tears wetting his shirt.
“take a deep breath love” Price says in your ear, your breathing so erratic that it makes him worried you will suffocate at some point because of the lack of oxygen in your body, he feels your chest against him as you do as he told you, taking deep breaths the best you can, trying to calm down for your and his sake.
you’ve never been one to cry with so much despair, to need his comfort in times of need because you managed well on your own, he was never around to solve your sorrow either so why bother? But today, he is the reason you're crying and it seems fair that he is the one to comfort you, that your only chore is to cry and keep your breathing somewhat stable while he does everything else to fix what he broke.
He doesn't know where to begin though, unaware of where he stands or what he should do to bring peace into your mind, what words will fix his mistake, and what words will tear you apart even more, he doesn’t want to cause you harm, not consciously, not right now. it wouldn’t be fair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to your heart, it would be cruel. and he doesn’t want to be cruel to you, not anymore.
“I’m sorry love…I should’ve been good to you” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth on his lap, soothing you like he would to a child, his voice low and soft, his hand caressing your thighs in a comforting manner. 
“I don’t know why I didn’t notice that you started baking, it was wrong, I didn’t notice you when I should’ve noticed every change you’ve had over the last two years” he continuous, speaking out the guilt he carried in his chest the moment he saw you and heard you break down into tears, your sobs engraved in his mind.
“I’m really sorry for missing out on all of this when I was gone, I shouldn’t have been such a bad husband, you don’t deserve that” he sighs, his eyes stinting a little bit from the tears beginning to form, and your calmer now, sniffling and whimpering, the tears slowly stopping, but it seems that your distraught was transferred to him because he doesn’t feel at ease, he feels the guilt eat him alive while he soothes you.
“I don't want you to leave…” you mumble, adjusting on his lap, your head resting against his chest, you have never wanted him to leave home, to go on missions for months on end with little to no contact with your lover, it feels like you're mourning him every time he goes away and doesn’t give you a small message to let you know he wasn’t killed.
“I know sweet girl” he replies, he doesn’t want to leave either, he never wants to, even though he continues to do so. It's a complicated situation, one he doesn’t dare to think about too much because he’ll end up ripping his heart out, his loyalty not being able to distribute equally for you and his team, always the latter winning even if he doesn’t dare to admit it.
he wants to promise you he’ll return quickly this time and will take a leave just to spend time with you, to dedicate more time to what's left of your relationship, he doesn’t want your marriage to fail, you’re the only woman he wants, the only one he had ever seen himself grow old together, he doesn’t want to let that go because of his own stupid and selfish mistakes.
He has to leave tomorrow, but when he’s back he’ll fix everything.
“I'll be back soon” he mumbles against your hair, face buried in it as breathes in your smell, trying to engrave it in his mind, to not forget this time details about you he has always loved. 
Thankfully, his promise becomes reality, and after two weeks of loneliness that have never felt heavier on your chest, he returns, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smile on his lips, happy to see you, to see the warmth and loving gaze you always give him back in your eyes after all this time.
He steps through the door, your face pressed against his chest, refusing to let go of him, fearing he would leave even if it wasn’t unreasonable, he had returned early for you, he had seen his mistakes and was fixing what never should’ve been broken
Peace is restored in your home, love is flourishing once again in your marriage, and whatever plans you had made to start over get discarded, you’re already having a fresh start, one that doesn’t involve leaving your lover. this time is a start with a more conscious man who is ready to do everything right by you, to never let his job affect the way he loves you. He's learning that his wife comes first, that his life outside of the military also has the same and more importance than his job.
(little reminder: I'm taking requests if you want me to write something specific xx)
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Walk The Line.
Carmen gets a little jealous. You don’t mind in the slightest.
roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. semi public antics.
word count - 2.5k
authors note - ask and you shall receive 😌. i’ll never get enough of roommate!carmy. i’ll be writing him forever. <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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He’s a little out of his depth, admittedly.
The invitation had been slid under your front door, pretty handwriting on creamy paper.
“A… party?”
“Does it say party, Carmen?”
“No, it says ‘mixer.’ What the fuck is a mixer?”
You laugh, scrubbing a mark off the final dish in the sink before placing it down in the drying rack. Carmy is sat on the counter across the kitchen, reading the invite over and over.
“Seriously, babe. The fuck does mixer mean? So it isn’t a party?”
You dry your hands and make your way over to take the paper from him, eyes scanning over it carefully.
“A mixer is like… a get to know each other thing. It’s sort of like a party, I guess, but not really. Just a casual gathering type situation.”
“Sounds fucking stupid,” he grumbles.
You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes.
“Lighten up, asshole. It could be fun.”
“Fun? You think having a mixer with all the neighbours from our building on a Friday night is gonna be fun?”
“I think it sounds like an incredible time. My ideal evening. I can’t wait.”
You can’t even pretend not to laugh, grabbing onto his thigh to keep yourself balanced. He puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to look serious, but the grin fighting its way up his cheeks gives him away.
“You really wanna go?”
“Carm, if it’s terrible, we’ll just lie and say we’ve got plans elsewhere. We’ll run away screaming if we need to. It might be good for us though, to meet our neighbours properly. It’s good to get to know them, just in case we ever need anything.”
“What, like a cup of sugar? What is this, the thirties?”
“When you’re testing recipes and fucking them all up, you might be grateful to be able to nip next door and borrow a cup of sugar.”
“I don’t fuck recipes up.”
“No? Then why were you yelling at a lavender and oat crème brûlée last week?”
“It was mocking me,” he grumbles under his breath, hanging his head.
You can’t help but laugh, moving closer to stand between his manspread legs where he still sits on the counter. You brush a piece of hair back from his forehead, tracing your index finger in a featherlight touch down the bridge of his nose. He looks down at you, eyes glued to yours.
“I know for a fact you don’t have anything else planned on Friday,” you whisper.
He rolls his eyes but leans into your touch anyway, where you’re still tracing along the features of his face.
“You promise we can leave if it’s terrible?”
“We literally live in this building. We can just walk up the stairs and be home.”
He huffs, but relents.
“Fine. But please don’t leave me alone with all of the middle aged moms. They love me.”
“Oh, I’m sure they do,” you giggle, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. His arms encircle you, pulling you as close as he can.
Is this scene too intimate for roommates? Without a doubt.
Do either of you care? Not in the slightest.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be.
The middle aged moms have pulled through, actually. The lobby is decorated with fairy lights, tables covered in alcohol set up against the walls. Everyone has a drink in their hand, chatting and mingling amongst themselves.
You and Carmen walk downstairs a little late. He’d finished his shift and run home to shower and make himself look semi presentable before facing the neighbours.
“We need a signal,” he says suddenly, right as you reach the staircase. “In case of emergencies.”
“Pat your head.”
“Real subtle.”
“It doesn’t need to be subtle, it needs to be noticeable for me.”
“Fine,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Don’t leave me alone with that Erica lady. She scares me.”
“Yes sir,” you mock salute, slipping your hand into his momentarily. “You’ll be fine, Carmen. Like I said, we’ll just leave if it’s awful.”
It’s not awful, actually. It’s quite fun.
It’s nice to get to know the people in your building, seeing as you have lived there for a couple of years now. Carmen has been there even longer.
“Excuse me, sweetheart?”
You turn around to be met with an old lady, leaning carefully on her cane.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m Dorothy. I live in 2B, and I just had to tell you that you look beautiful in your dress.”
You smile, pulling out a chair for her, which she takes gladly. You sit down next to her, spotting Carmy chatting with a couple of guys across the room.
“Thank you so much!”
You introduce yourself, telling her your name and apartment number.
“Ah yes,” she hums in recognition. “You live with your boyfriend who has all the tattoos.”
You almost choke on your drink.
“We’re just roommates,” you say eventually. “But yes, that’s him.”
“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed.”
You’re curious, suddenly. You know you shouldn’t be, but you can’t help yourself.
“Can I ask? Why you… thought we were dating?”
She chuckles knowingly before placing a hand on your knee.
“Honey, he’s got a hand on you at all times. He looks at you like you are the sun. Every time you walk past my window, you’re both laughing. Sounds like love to me.”
Her bluntness is refreshing, if not a little intimidating. No one will say it how it is more than a little old lady who can’t mind her business.
“We, uh… we’re close. He’s a good roommate. A good friend.”
She doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, chuckling as she pats your leg.
“Uh huh. That’s what I said about my husband - real good friend. We’ve been married 58 years.”
You smile, shaking your head.
“Is he here with you?”
“He’s upstairs. He can’t really leave the apartment, these days.”
“You know, if you ever need anything, me and Carmen would be happy to help.”
“No, sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to-”
“-you’re not asking me, I’m offering. Carmen is an award winning chef at one of the best restaurants in this city. He’d be more than happy to make a meal or two when needed. And I can pick you guys up stuff from the grocery store when I go, too.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing your hand in her frail one. “You’re good kids, you two.”
You grin at her, squeezing her hand gently.
“You know where I am, if you need me.”
She nods, standing up carefully.
“I’m going to go see if that handsome Jeremy will come and fix my shower for me. He did promise.”
You laugh, watching as she makes a beeline for one of the dads stood in a huddle. You catch eyes with Carmy, who’s still chatting away with a few of the younger guys. He winks at you, all cheeky and carefree, and you can’t help but flush, heat prickling across your skin. You shake your head, smiling, winking back.
Suddenly, there’s a hand on your bicep. You spin sideways, to be met with the sight of a very handsome man. Dark hair, big brown eyes, tall - he looks slightly like a movie star you can’t quite remember the name of. You crane your neck to meet his gaze, smiling softly.
He holds out his hand to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Daniel.”
You tell him your name, trying to ignore how his hand engulfs yours.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You laugh, shaking your head.
“Have you lived here long? Think I’d remember a face like yours.”
Now he shakes his head.
“A month, maybe. I live in 6C. I’ve been working a lot, so haven’t had any time for introductions.”
“Ah. What do you do?”
“I’m a model.”
Of course he is.
“What do you do?”
As you start to tell him, his eyes fix on yours, not leaving for a moment. He listens carefully, both of you blocking out the noise and focusing on each other.
Turns out, Daniel is good company. The two of you find a spot in the corner, away from the noise and the wine drunk moms. The two of you laugh, joke, and talk about Chicago as if you’re old friends. Time slips away from you easily, conversation flowing with minimal effort.
“I don’t want to leave, trust me… but I have a super early call time tomorrow. If you wanted, we could grab a drink sometime, somewhere that’s not our buildings lobby?”
You laugh, nodding.
“Yeah, I’d like that. It was nice to meet you, Daniel.”
“You too. Here,” he says, handing you a small business card with his number on, “text me.”
“I might do just that,” you tease as he walks away grinning.
You’re on your way to grab another drink when a hand slinks around your wrist.
“Hi, Carmen.”
You don’t even have to turn to know who it is, recognising the feeling of his calloused hand against your soft skin.
“Where’s your friend gone?” he all but grumbles.
“He’s gone home, got to be up early for work.”
“Haven’t we all.”
“Ooo, okay Mr Attitude. You’re not having a good night? You didn’t give me the signal.”
“Would you have noticed if I did?”
You spin around to face him properly now.
“Yes, I would have. Because we’re in a tiny fucking lobby and not a football stadium, Carmen.”
He huffs.
“Didn’t think you’d notice if the building fell down, the way you were lost in his eyes.”
“I know it’s a foreign concept to you, Carmen, but eye contact is actually a very important part of conversation. Try it some time.”
Carmy rolls his eyes, grip on your wrist tightening.
“Come on,” he mumbles. “Wanna show you something.”
He practically drags you up the stairs, and up some more, and up some more. Eventually, you reach the roof.
The sun is just setting, casting the city in a warm orange glow. Everything is so calm, so peaceful, so serene. It’s beautiful.
You’re admiring the view when suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Carmy has you over his shoulder, carrying you across the rooftop to the brick wall.
“The fuck are you doing?” you cry as he finally puts you down.
He smashes his lips to yours, choosing to shut you up rather than answer you. You kiss back eagerly, confused but not disappointed at the turn in events. Slipping your hands into his hair, you tug him into you, groaning as he grabs at your ass.
“Carmen,” you breathe, “why don’t we just go home?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he mumbles against your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. When he bites down, you smack his shoulder.
“No marks, asshole. The fuck is up with you?”
Again, he says nothing, just slips his hand under your dress to run his fingers over your underwear. You part your legs instantly, leaning back into the wall to steady yourself.
“Carmen, someone’s gonna see if they come up here.”
“Well then you better come quickly.”
He slips your panties to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat. You keen, knees buckling already.
“Oh baby,” he chuckles. “This all for Daniel?”
It all clicks for you suddenly.
“That’s what-” you choke as he slides a finger into you. “That’s what - fuck - has you so riled up? Daniel?”
“Don’t say his name when I’m knuckle deep, baby. It’s rude.”
You attempt to scoff, but it comes out as more of a moan when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling carefully.
“Am I not giving you what you need, honey? Is that it? Greedy girl just wants more, so she looks elsewhere to get it?”
“No,” you justify quickly. “You know that’s not true.”
“If you can still form sentences, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”
He slips a second finger in, curling them exactly the way he knows you like.
“Carm.”
“He couldn’t make you feel like this, babe. You and I both know it.”
You’re nodding, fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if you’re scared he’s going to walk away. His lips press into your neck again, nipping along the expanse of skin.
“Say it.”
“Hmm?”
You’re dazed, mind hazy with Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen.
“Say. It.”
He punctuates his words by curling his fingers harshly. You’re seeing stars, legs giving out.
“He - he… fuck, Carmen, please.”
“So close, honey. Try again.”
You know he won’t relent. He never does, when he’s in a mood. You have to just give him what he wants.
“He couldn’t make me feel this good, Carm. It’s all for you, only you.”
“Good girl. Knew you could do it.”
With that, he speeds up his fingers, his other arm snaking around your back to keep you standing upright.
“Give it to me, baby. Know you want to. That’s it, atta girl.”
“Come for me, there we go. Can feel you.”
“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. So pretty like this.”
You fall over the edge, clenching like a vice around his fingers as you throw your head back. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin, chest heaving with every breath you take. Your vision goes white for a second, gripping onto Carmy’s biceps for dear life.
You rest your forehead against his chest, panting as you try to recover.
“Jealous Carmen is kinda mean,” you mumble into his shirt.
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.
“You know I didn’t mean it, right? You’re free to date whoever you want. You could do a lot worse than Daniel the hot supermodel.”
You pull back, looking at him carefully.
“I know. I just… I don’t know if I’ll go. Seems a bit unfair to date him when my mind is on someone else.”
You both know exactly who you mean. You both also know that tipsy on a rooftop is not the place to have that conversation.
“Did you ever master the lavender crème brûlée?”
He chuckles, not expecting the sudden change in subject.
“Yes, I did.”
“Do we have any left?”
“We don’t. But I did make chocolate soufflé this afternoon, if that’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”
“Fuck, yes,” you grin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.
“I’ll make you a crème brûlée in work tomorrow. Promise.”
“Will you make two extras?”
He quirks a brow in confusion, so you continue.
“We’ve got two elderly neighbours. They’re not very mobile, so I said we’d drop stuff off every now and again.”
He smiles at you, all soft and melted.
“Of course. That heart of yours is too big for your chest, you know.”
You take hold of his hand, placing it there.
“Only sometimes.”
He kisses you again before throwing an arm over your shoulders.
“Let’s go eat chocolate soufflés and drink the rest of that wine you bought.”
“You’re a mind reader,” you laugh, making your way downstairs.
Maybe he is, you think later. You don’t mind in the slightest.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 14 days
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Yes. No. I Don't Know.
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Use of the word 'dick', that's about it.
Tiniest bit of angst, he's just kinda cold, but mostly fluff
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You couldn’t sleep. Try as you might, you could not fall asleep. It was nearly midnight already and you had to be up early for school. You decided to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower, figuring maybe the night air and watching the stars might make you tired enough to fall asleep. So you threw off your comforter and wrapped a jacket around you, sneaking out of your dorm and up to the tower. No one caught you and you ascended the stairs.
Much to your surprise, there was the school’s well known asshole, Mattheo Riddle, smoking on the balcony. It was hit or miss with you and him. Some days he was okay, at least, not insulting you. Other days, he wasn’t the most pleasant to be around. Either way, you always felt somewhat drawn into those beautiful brown eyes. Even on the days you wanted to snap back at him. He did seem to try to reign in his anger and attitude with you compared to everyone else you’ve seen him with. So you didn’t want to ruin it by yelling at him when he was a dick.
He turned his head to look at you, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette. You could see fresh, new cuts and bruises on his face and knuckles. He got into a fight today.
“What are you doing up here?” He asked and you realized you hadn’t even said anything to him for a few seconds, just staring at him.
“Couldn’t sleep.” You answered and stepped up onto the balcony with him.
“So you came trotting up to the Astronomy Tower at what? Midnight?” He asked before taking a drag off of his cigarette.
“Figured I could come watch the stars for just a little bit. I thought maybe getting out would help tire me a little more so I can fall asleep once I get back to my dorm.” You said, turning to lean back against the railing as you looked at the stars.
“That’s stupid. And dangerous. What if there was someone here that would have hurt you?” He said, taking on a slightly annoyed tone.
“I have my wand. I’m not an idiot.” You said, looking back at him.
He rolled his eyes, leaning against the railing with you. “Still stupid.”
“Why do you care?” You asked, giving him a confused look.
“I don’t. I’m telling you it’s stupid. It’s like you don’t care about your safety.” He said as he looked back at you.
“I still don’t see why you care.” You said. “It’s not like you even like me at all.”
“Fine, forget it then. Do what you want.” He said, looking up at the stars as he took another drag of his cigarette. This gave you a perfect chance to look at his injuries.
“Another fight?” You asked, putting your hands in your jacket pockets.
“Possibly.” He said, exhaling the smoke.
“What caused it this time?” You asked before looking at the stars with him.
“Does it matter?”
“I’m curious.”
“Some guys were making disgusting comments about a girl. Wouldn’t stop when I told them to shut their mouths so I shut it for them.” He said, still looking at the stars, but he shifted slightly like he was uncomfortable.
“You stepped in to stand up for a girl?” You asked and looked back at him.
“Shut up.” He said, taking another drag of his cigarette.
“You like this girl?”
He exhaled the cigarette smoke before answering. “Does that matter?”
“You know my answer already.”
He sighed. “Yes.” He said simply before putting out his cigarette on the railing and flicking it over the edge.
“Wow, Mattheo Riddle has a crush.” You smile at him.
“Oh, shut up.” He said, crossing his arms.
“Who is it?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He said, looking down at his shoes as he shifted again.
“Oh, come on. This girl has to be special to catch your attention.” You said, still smiling at him.
He rolled his eyes again and turned his head away from you. “I said ‘It doesn’t matter.’”
“I thought we were friends, Matty.” You joked.
“I told you to stop calling me that.” He said as he looked back at you.
“Just tell me who it is and I’ll stop.” You said with a sweet little smile.
He sighed again, looking up at the stars.
“You’re no fun.” You teased as you noticed he isn’t giving in, looking up at the stars with him again.
He stayed quiet for a moment before looking back at you, noticing your slight shiver. He looked away before taking off his hoodie and offering it to you. You looked at the hoodie confused for a moment before he rolled his eyes once again. “You’re shivering, put it on.”
“I’m not shivering.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I have a jacket already.”
“That’s the thinnest jacket I’ve ever seen.” And he was right, annoyingly.
“But you’ll be cold.”
“Put the damn hoodie on.” He said with a frustrated tone.
“Merlin, okay.” You said, taking the hoodie from him. You took off your jacket and put on his hoodie. It was so warm. And smelled like his cologne.
He leaned back against the railing as he looked at the stars again, not saying anything.
“Thank you.” You said softly.
“Yeah.” Was all he said. But that was the first time he replied to any of the times you’ve said ‘thank you.’ You smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything about it. There was a small moment of silence between you two as you watched the stars.
“Can I get one hint about the girl?” You finally asked.
“Are you serious?” He looked at you and you looked at him.
“Come on. I wanna know. I won't tell anyone.” You said.
“Why can't you leave it?” He asked, annoyed.
“Please, Matty.” You said, trying to use your puppy eyes on him.
He clicked his tongue. “Can you stop calling me that?”
“Just tell me and I'll stop.”
“You're so annoying.” He said, sighing again.
“Yet you never do anything about it.” You smile slightly.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“What you normally do with everyone else and ignore them or leave or yell or something.” You said and he narrowed his eyes slightly.
“So you think I enjoy your annoying comments or something?”
“I didn't say that. But I think you do.” You smiled.
He rolled his eyes again, looking at the ground.
“Aw, you do actually like me.” You teased him.
“Shut up.” It was the third time he said this tonight, but it was the first time he blushed, even if it was extremely faint, almost wouldn't have been noticeable if you weren't staring at him already.
“Just tell me who the girl is.” You said, now leaning on him slightly to push him further.
“Why does it matter?” He asked, a bit harshly as he looked back at you.
“I just wanna know who captured your little heart.” You said with a sweet smile.
“You sure it's not because you have a crush on me?” He said sarcastically, but that made you nervous. It's not like you knew your own feelings yourself. You always felt drawn to him. You always liked being near him. Even when he did frustrate you. But he did frustrate you a lot. And he was always cold. And he pushed you away a lot. You didn't even notice your own hesitation until Mattheo raised his eyebrows. It made your face heat up. “Do you?”
Yes. “No!” I don't know. You straightened up so you weren't leaning on him anymore.
“Why'd you hesitate?” He asked, now turning his body towards you.
“I didn't.” You said, turning to him now too and crossing your arms over your chest.
“Bullshit.”
“I'm not lying.”
“(Y/N).” He said, taking a step forward so he was directly in front of you, almost touching you.
“Matty.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“Why?”
He paused, letting out a heavy exhale through his nose before rolling his eyes and moving away from you, turning away.
“Why?” You repeat, moving with him, even though he only moved a few feet.
“It doesn't matter.” He said before turning back to you. “Just stop it.”
“No.” You said. You both were directly in front of each other again. “Matty, Matty, Matty, Matty, Matty-”
He cut you off with a kiss, his hands on your cheeks. You froze for a moment before kissing back, moving your hands to grip at his shirt. He pulled back after a moment, but it still felt too short. You both stared at each other for a moment, neither letting go of the other.
“What was that for?” You asked.
“It was just to shut you up.”
“You're still holding me, though.” You pointed out.
“Yeah.” Was all he said as he kept staring at you, his eyes going all over your face; your eyes, your lips, your nose, anything and everything on your face.
“I lied. It wasn't a ‘no.’” You said as you did the same, looking all over his face too. It was the first time you were this close. But that kiss definitely made you realize your feelings.
He kept looking over your face for a moment before looking in your eyes and replying. “It was you. The girl. The one I like.”
You both stayed like that for another moment as you processed everything. He leaned down and kissed you again, much softer this time. It only lasted a moment, but this time it wasn't as hard when he pulled away, knowing that there were more of those kisses in the future.
“I like you, way more than I ever thought I would.” He admitted, still holding your face. “You can be annoying, but I like it. You're always so nice to me, even when I can be a dick and I love that and always feel so bad about it. But you don't understand how much that lifts my mood. And I love it when you call me ‘Matty.’”
“I knew you liked it.” You smiled.
“Shut up.” He said and kissed you again.
Let me know if I should make this into a long series rather than just this short one shot!
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cursedcola · 2 months
Text
Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?"- Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (Pt.1 !) (Pt.2 Here!) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. ALSO SLIGHT SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 7 IN SILVER Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. I had to break Diasomnia into 2 parts because I exceeded tumblr's character limit. I have favorites I guess :/
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This man is a child masquerading as an adult. As in to say that he resists any illogical emotions until they bottle up and explode. The traditional pathway for finding a life partner typically follows: stranger -> acquaintance -> friend -> crush -> lover ->partner. You know, as it normally goes when bonds form.
Sebek....is not a textbook case in this regard. His path is a bit more customizable
stranger -> person he is forced to interact with -> acquaintance of Lord Malleus -> Acquaintance of Lord Malleus that Sebek approves of -> Friend that Lord Malleus approves of -> Repressed Crush -> Acquaintance that Sebek avoids at all costs -> Acknowledged crush -> Acknowledged crush that Lord Malleus approves of -> Respected individual with mitigated interactions -> Courting -> awkward situationship -> lover -> awkward situationship (with better communication) -> spouse
Enough said.
This process isn’t as complicated as it may seem on paper. While there are many steps, Sebek is fortunate enough to have people in his life willing to force commitments onto him. It also helps that he has blind trust in a select few. This makes him a bit naive and easily influenced. A boon in the right hands, and a bane in others.
In short, Sebek is emotionally constipated and only acts when there’s a driving force. Otherwise he just gets frustrated. This is extremely apparent at two stages: ‘repressed crush’ and ‘awkward situationship’. Scratch that. Three stages.
Beginning at ‘repressed crush’ - Sebek realizes that he likes you when you ask about how his training is going. He happened by your dorm during his morning jog, and was more than happy to go off on a tangent of the strict regimen developed to forge a perfect knight.
Except that’s not what you wanted to hear. You were more interested in his health and how he was enjoying himself rather than how his work was benefitting Malleus.
His heart fluttered, as if a shock of electricity thrummed through his body. Having never felt this before, Sebek mistakes it for a lapse in his strength and runs off at a much faster speed than before. Forget a light jog, he had enough energy to run 500 laps around the school track.
Don’t you get it human?! You were distracting him! His body was at rest too long. Now shoo, you’re hindering him from doing his duty.
He represses these budding romantic feelings and ‘misinterprets’ them as deviant behavior. He even goes so far as to blame it on ‘useless hormones’ and convinces himself that it’ll pass. He spares it no thought until his pining becomes apparent to everyone except for himself
Que the driving force. Despite Sebek believing otherwise, he does have friends and his entire love-life can be credited to their affectionate stupidity.
Simply put, Ace takes every chance to seamlessly flirt with you whenever Sebek is around. Not in a subtle way either - he's making some risky comments and trying to eat up every moment of your time. The others in your year are well aware of what he's doing too. Deuce thinks he's being unnecessary, but also agrees that Sebek needs a push so he lets it happen. Epel has his gripes with Sebek, but admires him for his manly tenacity. So he's 100% in support of giving an extra push and even tries to copy Ace. Except... yeah, he's pretty bad at flirting so he gives up after one try. Jack is against it at first, not wanting to hurt your feelings in the process but gets talked into it after seeing you get salty over Sebek being distant. Ortho, bless his innocent soul, thinks of it as a fun experiment. Lil guy just wants everyone to be happy.
You have no idea though, which is great because all of Ace's attempts fail hardcore. Sebek and his chivalrous ways (jealousy) won't stand by if you're being constantly bombarded with 'unwanted' romantic affections.
Nevermind that you don't seem to be taking Ace seriously at all. It is still not proper behavior! It would be a stain to his Lord's image if Sebek knowingly let Malleus' beloved friend endure such a hardship.
Every time Ace makes an attempt, Sebek shuts him down faster than you ever could. You have no idea how he does it, but Sebek is always around when it happens. The timing is honestly creepy....until you catch on to what's happening because the Ramshackle prefect isn't a dumdum.
"So....prefect, how about we go get dinner together tomorrow? Just you and me, what do ya say?" Ace slides into the seat to your right during breakfast. He leans in on his fist, eyeing you with a mischievous grin that crinkles the heart on his cheek. Just as he does, Sebek occupies the seat at your left and pushes Ace back with his palm.
"Do you ever rest?! They will do no such thing, now eat your meal before it runs cold. The chefs worked too hard for their efforts to be wasted by a delinquent!" Sebek answers on your behalf like clockwork. This event was not an uncommon sight to anyone, neither was Sebek failing to control his volume, so no other student paid the show any mind.
Normally you'd let them spit a few words at each other before returning to their own devices. Yet letting this continue just felt cruel, especially knowing that Ace was doing it to get a rise from your friend. Although Sebek wasn't innocent in the matter either
"Alright - Ace, would you knock it off? You don't even like me that way so quit messing with my head. I thought you were better than this," you say in between bites, side-eyeing your friend with a disapproving glare "And you!" you turn to Sebek, "I can answer for myself. Why do you even care? It's not like you're in charge of my love life. Just because someone wants to date me doesn't make them a delinquent...sheesh"
Why...why does he care? Sebek short circuits at your scolding, opening and closing his mouth to rebuttal yet coming up with nothing. Angered by his own turmoil, he grabs his meal and goes to sit with others from his dorm.
Stupid human. How dare you be so haughty and ungrateful? He was just protecting you from....from, what exactly? It's not like you going out with Ace would impact him in any way. It's not like you were in danger or upset with his advances. If anything. he was doing a good job at keeping your relationship professional for the sake of his liege!
Go ahead and date that childish hooligan for all he cares! Sebek won't be there to protect you when you're lost, or lend you a scarf on cold winter days. Ace can be the one to call you before bed every night, and keep your yearbook photo on his desk. Possibly keep his favorite candid photo as a bookmark for his diary, not that Sebek would know anyone that keeps a journal. He can have your birthday written in his calendar with a heart drawn around it, and have your picture in his wristwatch. He can set alarms to know when your classes end and walk you home. He can worry when you're sick and listen to your obnoxious prying....he can receive all your affections, and have your loyalty. Listen to your silly ramblings and receive those random 'i just thought of you' presents that Sebek always has a dilemma over what their purpose serves
You can be Ace's headache, and Sebek's heart will be lighter for it. These attachments he's formed were a lapse in judgement and will never be allowed again.
...
Sebek asks his lord for permission to court you. The next morning Malleus wakes to find the devotee bowed outside his bedroom, forehead attached to the floor and hands laid flat on the ground in reverence. Sebek proceeds to begin a long rant about how he's succumbed to his inner demons, and that he has sinned for letting another in his heart - Malleus cuts him off, happy to see love blossoming and interested to watch it all play out. He tells Sebek to take good care of you, before leaving. Meanwhile Sebek is sobbing at his lord's blessing
Once he's gathered himself, Sebek runs to your dorm and pounds on the door with fervor despite the early hour
Grim shakes you out of sleep, grumbling something about an 'annoying bastard' at the door before flopping back in bed. He shoves two pillows over his ears and tells you to fix the problem. That's when you hear the thumping, it's relentless and somehow sours your mood beyond what you thought possible. Mornings were not meant to exist on the weekend. So with an irritated groan, you slip on a robe over your pajamas and answer the door. A fist pauses in the air, moments from striking you. Sebek freezes momentarily, his body going ridged before coughing into his fist. A light blush dusts his cheeks.
“G-good morning, human. I apologize if I've disturbed your sleep, but I have an important announcement that cannot wait any longer" Sebeck studders, focusing on the door pane instead of your disheveled morning appearance.
“Alright" you sigh, resigning yourself to his whims, "what is it?"
Sebeck bows at the waist. "I am in love with you. Please accept my affections."
And so the motions continued on. A most unconventional pairing - possibly the hottest topic of the school year, in the words of Cater Diamond - was formed. Sebek was cautious of Ace at first, their previous spats leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. When he found out the truth, he was both appalled and grateful. So much that he scorned all his friends for weeks on end for pulling a stunt like that - but also thanking them. He apologizes for calling Ace a delinquent, and his heart changes a bit in response to their 'unique' display of care. Their intentions were good, and in the end it worked out. So he can pardon the indiscretion.
Life goes on until your relationship forms an 'awkward situationship'. The first time is brief. As it is with most cases of young love, the binding force that ties you to them crumbles. On earth it is highschool. In Twisted Wonderland it is NRC. Sebek knows where he's going - to serve the Draconias . The grey area is what you plan to do...because as much as his affections have grown, Sebek isn't willing to give up his dreams for you.
He's astonished when you decide to follow him to Briar Valley. He doesn't even have to breech the topic - arrangements were already being made without his input. You wouldn't be staying at the palace against his Lord's wishes. Instead a small cottage was built at a safe distance from the main city. Close enough for you to visit the castle, and far enough for you to feel comfortable and not out of place.
Seeing you taking his wants into consideration alters Sebek's perception of your relationship. You truly were lovers, and not a passing 'hormonal induced fling'. You loved him, and it's here when he truly begins to consider a forever. It was like the time when he first called your name, no longer calling you by 'prefect' or 'human'. He had done it many times in private, yet doing so to your face altered his brain chemistry. He loved the way your name rolled off his tongue, and the way your attention became his at the call.
Which leads us to the third and final major block-aid. Years have passed, and Sebek's well grown as an established knight for the Draconia family. He works alongside Silver, and many other comrades in arms. Everything is exactly as he dreamed. Malleus has become a beloved, strong king. Sebek is respected, and you are thriving as well. He didn't have much faith in your ability to last alone - it's not that he doubts your abilities, but he did doubt his people. When you first moved to Briar Valley Sebek was well aware that there were many like his past self - fae with a hatred for humans. He worried you would struggle to fit in.
Yet you surprised him. The tensions did exist against your kind, but you managed to card a space for yourself in Briar Valley with ease. You didn't even work in the palace, instead choosing to work towards becoming a children's teacher and work towards helping future generations of fae feel comfortable around humans.
His family adored you - with his mother in particular fawning over how Sebek fell down the same pipeline she did. His father offers you both advice on being an interspecies couple - and Sebek actually found himself listening.
Huh. Character growth. Is this what it's like to mature?
All is perfect, yet not. Sebek is forced to confront this when news travels that a human was attacked on their way to the palace. The dread that coursed through his veins was unlike anything Sebek's felt in his entire life. Under Malleus' rule, humans were slowly becoming more prevalent in Briar Valley. They hadn't mentioned your name specifically, but he jumped the gun.
Against his better judgement, Sebek abandons his post and rushed to the city's clinic. The injured human wasn't you, thank the seven, but the dread lingered. So he ran to the school you taught at and practically barged into your classroom. Luckily it was empty as the day was near end. Sebek hadn't known that yet still behaved recklessly.
He rushed to your side, talking faster than your brain could keep up with while checking over your body. He flipped topics like a teen trying to pick a college major - scolding you for worrying him, blubbering gibberish about how you'd no longer be allowed to walk alone, and myriad of other things.
Sebek was so shook, that he completely forgot about his knightly station. Malleus didn't punish him for abandoning his post. Not like it mattered, considering Sebek was already doing ample damage on his own. The realization hit him like a stone punch to the gut - there was a threat to his liege, and instead of focusing on apprehending the criminal he chose to find you.
Malleus' power or his dismissal of the matter meant little in the overall picture. Sebek failed. He's ashamed beyond belief.
and yet, he can't help but wonder what ight have been. What if you were the one attacked and he chose to stay? He would have failed you in that scenario.
He's surprised to find that the prospect his failure hurts just as much - if not more. His lord is powerful, and there are many to serve him. Your last moments could have been spent in a cold medical bed, surrounded by strangers. Fading away and taking Sebek's dreams with you.
............
Ah. Since when had that word become plural? His dream was always to serve Lord Malleus. Now there are more - he wants a family, and he wants to go to that play you were organizing with the valley's children next weekend. He wants to become a greater knight to protect the city that houses all the people he cares about. Again, plural. Lilia, Silver, his siblings and parents, all the human and fae who are loyal subjects to his most revered. You, and your decedents to come.
It's frightening. How valuable one's life can become. His always belonged to the Draconia bloodline to do with at they pleased - now Sebek's in pieces. Is he truly worthy of being a knight if he cannot give his whole heart?
He doesn't blame you for this. In his youth Sebek might have tossed your relationship aside in a heartbeat - that, or he might've demanded Malleus dismiss him and send him to repent in exile or whatever. Sebek has a problem with embellishing with dramatics.
BUT... he's more mature now. Mature enough to realize that maybe he can have his cake and eat it too.
So, he asks Lilia for advice. At this time the general merely lazes around the castle like a bat on the wall - acting as an advisor and observer. Surely he'd know what to do.
"There is nothing wrong with sharing a heart amongst many. If anything, the toughest decisions make us stronger. The more you have to lose, the stronger you will become to protect"
Preach it grandpappy. Lilia wants to see his grandkids so stop the slow burn already.
It's deja vu because Sebek wants to propose as quick as possible. Just like when he confessed, the man nearly runs to your home on impulse. You can thank Lilia for your proposal not taking place at 3am with your door being broke in two (Sebek is much stronger than he was in his teens, and sometimes miscalculates his strength).
Instead, Sebek finds himself anxiously clutching a ring in his pocket the following week. It was the night of a school play you were hosting - one he was looking forward to since you were so proud in your work. Ergo, Sebek felt pride as well by default.
How unfortunate that he can't focus on the show. With his mind reeling so much, it's taking all he has to sit quietly in the audience. His eyes follow your movements as you direct the kids, and for a brief moment you smile at him from the stage.
Zap. Alright. Don't clutch metal when you're a living thunderbolt. Duly noted. If anything the jolt of pain brings him back to reality.
When the play ends, and all the children have gone home with their families, he finds you back stage sweeping confetti. His plan was to congratulate you, and take you to a nice restaurant where he could do this properly.
Except he can't wait. When you turn around from putting the broom away, he's already taken a knee and holding the ring out. Those diligent gold iris' not pulling away for one moment, as he holds the ring out between two fingers and his other hand placed over his heart as if taking an oath.
"Before you say anything - You have sacrificed time and time again for my happiness - my efforts are insignificant in comparison. I have taken your patience for granted like a spoiled juvenile. There was a time when I found this kindness of yours unnecessary. I thought it a distraction - a test of my strength to fulfill my destiny. I see now that I was foolish”
Sebek pauses, grinding his teeth together in regret and anguish.
“I had not known fear until you. I have more to lose now than ever before. Last week I abandoned my post - my purpose- In that moment, all I could think about was if you’d been attacked, then my life would be over. You make me lose all sense of logic and reason…so I demand that you take responsibility and marry me!”
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{A gold band with an obsidian base. Gold and silver flakes are sealed atop the obsidian plate using resin. Very practical, yet charming nonetheless. Humans typically wear matching bands, yes? Sebek sees no purpose in getting separate designs since the point is to show proof of partnership. He needs a practical shape that will not interfere with combat, yet also wants it to be an aesthetic choice. Sebek could care less about looks, but if he’s going to give you a ring then it will be the best possible option to match to your worth}
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Silver is beautiful like still ocean waters. He's breathtaking - literally and figuratively. With the beauty of a fairytale prince, personality of a wise knight, and deadliness of the deep sea. It's easy to be sucked in when Silver seemingly has no flaws. So easy that at one point there were rumors of him being a living doll, created by the fae to be a perfect solider.
These perceptions all rely on his outward appearance: the knight in shining armor. Albeit so, being so perfect almost makes him unnoticeable. Compared to his rowdy peers with quirks and notable personalities - Silver truly is a doll. Like the complacent child praised for being more mature than their siblings. He is as easily forgotten as he is admired.
Some would say that this is a flaw in itself - because no one is naturally perfect. No one is so complacent and calm at birth. It's simply a desirable flaw. One that hurts him, yet has ben praised by others.
Silver is strong. Silver is diligent. Silver is beautiful. Silver is breathtaking and yet not the showstopper - like gold. Gold brings warmth while silver is cold. Imperfections in gold give it character, and can be seen as art. Imperfections in silver are seen as unsightly scratches.
Silver knows this, yet doesn't want to be gold. He doesn't deserve to be gold.
Silver doesn't deserve anything. He has already taken so much simply by living. He has a world to be grateful for, and not enough time to repay his debts.
He is content being Silver - if he could then he'd be copper. Lesser. Yet he is Silver, a reminder of the blood he carries.
He will remain unremarkable yet dedicated. He will dedicate everything to his family and friends - do whatever he can to break free of his sleeping curse and help others. He will give until he cannot give anymore. Then he will give more, to repay all he has received.
....For as much as he is content with this life, Silver still envies gold.
You are beautiful like a new dawn. Ushering in each day with a vibrant display that commands attention. People instinctively admire you despite the risk of hurting their eyes. You heal the world naturally, and help others simply by existing. People take you for granted, because inevitably the moon will rise, and the cold will inevitably return.
You were bathed in golden light. This Silver noticed the moment he laid eyes on you. He couldn't tear his eyes away.
Silver envies gold.
........
You envy Silver. His calm, his family, his dedication despite being limited by his crippling drowsiness. Out of the students from Diasomnia, he was the one you lingered towards more often than not. The freshmen revered him for his skills, and he was a true gentle soul. You at first couldn't believe that he was Lilia's son - how did such a kind boy come from a rambunctious tease? Revelations of his past brought much to light, and now you couldn't think of him being anyone else.
Silver was loved like the first snowfall. He had a family that loved him dearly, no matter how short his time with them would be. He was raised to bring happiness to others, and protect their hearts using his demure temperament.
Silver was modest, and silver glistened when you'd expect him to the least. As the wind caressed his hair during an afternoon siesta, or sparks lit in his eyes while swinging his sword. How the horses nuzzle his side after equestrian practice, showing full trust and affection. Even in the sweat dripping from his brow, shining as he easily finishes a set of push ups.
Yet nothing struck your heart more than the melancholy he'd emit when no one was looking. How quickly he'd fade into the background, only popping in when necessary or if someone gave him note. In these moments Silver gleamed brilliantly, yet a shadow put out his shine.
You thought the melancholy inviting. It felt so natural, so real. Except you believed it balanced dangerously between despair and serene. The larger question being which side would he evidently fall towards.
.........
Silver admires gold.
He couldn't stop the pull. He just couldn't. Not with how you seemingly watch him when no one else does. Who wouldn't feel special? With the way you take note of things he normally wouldn't think of, and recklessly delve into helping others with no regard for yourself. Whether you desire the trouble is beyond him - the matter is that you see every issue through. There isn't a soul who doesn't know of the ramshackle prefect.
Perhaps this is his torment to endure. To get a taste for what he could have been, and willingly be tied to it.
Silver stares into a vanity mirror, his expression neutral despite the growing emotions inside. A slightly tattered sheet is tied around his neck like a bib, covering his front and part of his back. A shiver runs down his spine as you comb through his hair, deftly trimming the edges with a pair of kitchen scissors with the precision of a professional. A shiver runs down his spine every time your fingers linger against his scalp, either from tucking stray strands or combing through layers with your fingertips.
Your expression is stern, eyes intensely focused as you cut around his ear, afraid to nick him in the process. He finds the expression adorable yet bites his tongue. Silver couldn't think those thoughts. Not when you offered to do this out of the kindness of your heart.
Nonetheless, his heart thrums. If it were possible he'd think the organ about to pop out at any moment.
"Finished!" you smile in satisfaction and tussle Silver's soft locks for good measure. In one fell swoop, you undo the knot around his neck and pull the makeshift apron off of him. Silver nods, a slight smile teasing the edge of his lips. He stands from the chair and steps over any hair on the floor, reaching for the broom to clean before you could think to. "Thank you. I no longer need to schedule with a barber. This will save much time," In truth he had no intentions for a haircut. You were the one to notice how his bangs hindered his vision, and offered to help. Silver couldn't bring himself to deny your kindness. "You really like it? Hehe. Y'know, maybe I should start a shop on campus? I only started doing this since there aren't any affordable salons....maybe with it I can finally afford to fix the guest room!" you cheer and prattle on about all the different possibilities. Occasionally you'll ask for Silver's input, or even give an off hand compliment about how he was the perfect 'test subject'. Your company is intoxicating, he realizes. Talking with you is as easy as drinking water. Before Silver realizes, night has fallen and you've fallen asleep on the couch. Despite his better judgement, he finds himself wandering the Ramshackle door. He compulsively cleans up the mess you'd both left behind during his visit, doing the dishes from dinner and rearranging things here and there. As he does so, Silver notes all the little improvements around the dorm. It feels more like a home than a school building. Then again you do live alone. He wonders how often you host visitors, and if you unknowingly ensnared them just as you've done to him. He covers your shoulders with a blanket and steps outside under the moonlight.
It’s cold.
...............
You wake up the following day to find all the windows shut, your living room clean, and a warm blanket covering your shoulders. Your eyes peer around for silver, yet turn up empty.
Of course. Silver has a dorm to return to and people that would miss him if he returned late.
Shuffling around the silent dorm, the rickey old floorboards creek underneath your weight. In manufactured motions, you brew a cup of tea and pour it into the only well-used cup from the cabinet.
As your cup brews, you sit at the table with the blanket still clutched tight over your shoulders.
The tea goes cold, yet you are warm.
................
Silver loves gold.
but silver and gold don't mix. The question always is: silver or gold? When deciding a piece of jewelry to match your skin tone, people will ask 'silver or gold'? The metals are not meant to mix because they clash. It's an outfit catastrophe.
Yet, Silver cannot help but wonder. As he lays with his head in your lap and the sun and silence coaxing him to slumber - what if an outfit existed to compliment both silver and gold?
"Silver..are you sleeping again?" you tap his cheek with one hand, and his eyes open instinctively. Despite his drowsiness he will always look for you. Yet right now he's never regretted the magnetic pull more. With the sun casting a golden overcast, you peer down at him from above with tender eyes typically reserved for one's child. Your glow is breathtaking, and he cannot help the sinking feeling in his stomach that he is unworthy. With such gentle hands combing across his scalp and eyes that look upon him so tenderly - he is afraid to steal your warmth. And yet… "You are beautiful," Silver lets it slip, his hand reaching to brush against your jaw as if under a spell. He feels unnervingly calm. Not in his usual way, where he is constantly observing and playing a game of mental chess. This is a true calm, and he knows now that this is a point of no return.
Silver is beautiful like a still ocean. You are beautiful like the rising sun. When combined, a perfect image is formed just waiting for an artist to stumble upon it.
Against his wishes, the world has granted the child of dawn another gift. The gift of true love. 'True love's kiss will break the curse' and while it is childish to believe so in this case, Silver does so wholeheartedly.
When with you, the days pass like minutes. He wants nothing more than to forgo need for sleep, if only to work harder towards becoming a man worthy.
Silver envies gold for it's effortless demand for love, yet he no longer wants to be gold. He no longer wishes he were born copper.
Gold loves silver, so Silver he will be.
And with time, both Silver and Gold will be ground to dust regardless.
He thinks of this on a winter evening while holding a ring up into the moonlight. It's cold outside, yet he doesn't mind. The chill atop his nose does nothing but tinge it a lovely rosy color.
He looks through the windowpane into a home masquerading as a school building. His reflection is familiar yet changing rapidly in comparison to his family. The years have aged him, yet not by much. Silver is stronger, his soft jaw a bit sharper. His bangs have grown long again, it would soon be time for a cut. Perhaps he'd enlist a 'barber' after relocating back to the castle in briar valley.
Inside you sit at the couch, sipping from a well-used mug with Grim on your lap and watching cartoons. Silver's bag rests on the armchair, unzipped with nightly necessities spilling out the side. A slightly newer baby blue mug sits on the coffee table, with steam evaporating into the air as it waits to be used.
Silver smiles, walking towards the door and walking inside. Heat warms his cheeks and he is calm.
"I know I am unworthy of you, the thought plagues me to this very moment. Yet I cannot help but love you - like wishing on a star yet knowing deep in the depths of your heart that miracles are made not granted. I've received many, so I would know. My father gifted me life through love - and with you I understand how it is possible. I cannot imagine life without you. I promise this, I will cherish you and protect you for as long as you allow it. Would you marry me?"
Months later a ceremony is held in a secluded forest, in the yard of a cottage where a child first learned love. As an adult, he joins his most precious in matrimony, offering his sword to be sworn faithful.
You are beautiful like the first breech of daylight - and for once, Silver is happy to be a man of dawn.
Silver and gold.
Silver and gold.
Everyone wishes for silver and gold.
How do you measure it's worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
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{A ring forged from a silver band, gold leaf embellishments, and a moss agate core. Enough said.}
1K notes · View notes
jeanbie · 13 days
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ALL THE TIME (IF YOU WERE MINE) ★ masterlist.
pairing: jake x reader
warnings: explicit sexual content, human!fem!reader, porn with a lot of plot, establishing feelings, reader's nickname is "Spellman/Spelly", size kink, face sitting, finger fucking, manhandling, begging, riding, dirty talk, squirting, whatever you call this, breeding kink, creampie | wc: 19k
note: i became obsessed with jake + spelly ᨳ ˶ᵔᴗᵔ˶) thank u for the love on fantasize + i hope u all love the development between our fav dummy avatar and our fav scientist!!
★ ⏤ sequel to fantasize
⏤ Now that feelings are known and the lucky chance to be alone in the lab together arises, Jake wants to go even further than he did before.
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“Hey, marine, where’s your log from last night?”
Of course, the first thing out of Grace’s mouth when Jake rolls himself into the front workspace is something to do with video logs. Jake does everything he can to stop himself from groaning in her face and presents her a smile, one that she can no doubt see right through when he appears in the dim daylight falling through the windows.
“It’s not there? Must have deleted itself.”
Grace’s eyebrows raise. “Are you trying to tell me that the camera just…deleted the footage? I have everyone else’s logs on here except for yours. Conveniently for you…”
“Can’t even make a log right,” comments Norm — Jake had almost forgotten all about the eldest Spellman and turns his head to see him, and quite frankly, even just looking at Norm this morning feels like a silent victory, the excited feeling of thrilled anticipation bubbling in Jake’s stomach.
“Ask your sister,” Jake says in reply, almost laughing at loud at the contorted face of disgust that appears in replacement of Norm’s sneer, “she saw me last night.”
“Here we go,” Norm sighs.
Luckily for Norm, Grace buts in: “Enough, you skxawngs. Just make a log while it’s all still fresh.” She pauses then, and pulls out one of her beady eyes to stare intently at Jake, “It is still fresh, right, Jake?”
“Fresh as a daisy, doc,” Jake replies, but his eyes have already begun wandering around the lab for the notably absent scientist he enjoys seeing the most in the mornings — the same scientist he fucked stupid last night and hasn’t stopped thinking about since.
Considering your unbelievably obvious feelings for Jake, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he managed to entice you out to the little forest behind the shack, and yet he still can’t believe that it even happened. There’s a phantom tingle in his stomach as he thinks it over — did it even count when he did things in his avatar?
Everybody has noticed your interest in Jake, including Jake himself, and yet a strange doubt gnaws at his mind as his eyes wander across the lab, seeking you out, looking for signs of you on the counter or out the windows. More than anything, he hopes he hasn’t completely severed his chances with you. 
What if you woke up and regretted all of it? What if you woke up and despised him all of a sudden? That probably wouldn’t surprise him, since there’s plenty of anti-Jake sentiment being spread in the lab right now, and he’s never had too much of a good thing before it slips away somehow.
Still, there’s a small crack inside of Jake that remains open with the possibility that maybe everything is fine.
Jake doesn’t know how long he’s been staring out the window for before Grace speaks again, but when he looks over at her, he’s grateful that she’s not looking at him already to catch him in his daydreaming.
“I don’t hear you making that log, marine,” she says carefully, her eyes once again glued to her microscope. It’s a wonder she doesn’t just fall asleep next to the damn thing. 
Jake tries his best to look casual as he rolls to the end of the lab and fiddles with the camera, asking, “Where’s everyone else?”
Grace shuffles and swaps one of the samples under the microscope. “Outside. I sent Little Spellman out to collect a sample from the fyìpmaut tree that we noticed on our first outdoor sweep. I think in the next few days, we might even get a bit of fruit from that sucker.”
“That’s a squid fruit tree, by the way,” adds Norm, and Jake casts him a filthy glare that Norm unfortunately doesn’t see since he’s got his nose buried in some papers.
“I know that,” Jake says in the calmest voice he can.
Does Norm forget that Jake goes through what burns down to a routine of drills with Neytiri on almost everything and anything the woman can think of that can be found on Pandora? From his, quote, “valuable field research”, Jake thinks he’s learned more about Pandora and what you can find in the forest than Norm has in three years.
“I sent Chacón out with her so she can stretch her legs,” Grace continues, having no energy to waste on trying to get Jake and Norm to coexist peacefully. “I don’t think she even goes outside unless it's to fly, so it’ll do her some good.”
Jake looks out the window again. He wishes he could at least see you — maybe that would make the twisting discomfort disappear. He tries very desperately to think about last night again, running his memory over every detail until he knows for sure that he wasn’t overanalysing or even imagining the entire thing.
He likes you. You like him. He fucked you in the forest. He liked it a lot. You sounded like you liked it a lot. You looked sad to see him disappear before going inside. He didn’t imagine any of that, did he?
Grace’s chair creaks menacingly and it makes Jake switch on the little camera quickly and start listing off whatever he did with Neytiri the day before. It would be hilarious if he were to accidentally mention the fact that he stretched out Norm’s sister and filled her up with cum, but Jake has the decency to know that the timing isn’t right.
Plus, he kind of wants Norm to figure it out for himself. 
As he recites his day, all he can think about is how he wants Norm to find out — when he’s out on a pathetic patrol around the shack, maybe he’ll get a whiff near the forest; god, Jake hopes you’re walking with a goddamn limp just to rub salt in the wound. There are too many ways, too many possibilities, and Jake has to work overtime to fight the grin that wants to appear on his face. 
The story he’s sharing about tracking yerik through their shit isn’t funny at all, and he’d hate to have to try and explain why he’s smirking while he’s telling it. 
Jake can’t think of anything else to say to drag on the log that Grace apparently wants so badly, so he calls it a day and switches off the camera. He then steals another glance out the window and is absolutely delighted when he can actually see you this time.
You’re sprinting with Trudy back towards the lab while frantically looking up above your head. Jake can’t even see the sky from where he’s sitting, and suddenly feels a pang of pity for you for having to sit in here until Grace essentially gives you the green light to go outside. 
No wonder the stars had been so fascinating last night — you can’t see anything through these frosted glass panes that the science department were forced to call windows. 
Jake feels his heart pounding in his chest when the sound of the doorway pressurising fills the room, followed by Trudy’s relieved sigh as she whips off her exo-pack and takes a deep breath of air. But he’s not looking at her as desperately as he is at you, and Jake doesn’t know if it’s the afterglow of fucking you last night or if it’s two months' worth of feelings rushing back towards him like a tidal wave, but you look so beautiful that it leaves him sitting there dumbly, taking it all in.
“Fucking rain,” Trudy sighs, immediately b-lining for the fridge. Since they first got here, the fridge has expanded in size after a few trips back to Hells Gate for emergency supplies or board meetings Grace couldn’t get herself out of, and now the fridge can store beers that Trudy is all too pleased about cracking open.
“Good timing,” notes Grace as she turns in her chair. “You get it?”
“Yep, here,” comes your voice, and Jake watches quietly as you hand Grace her priceless sample. “The ground near that tree is really wet, though. If you want more samples, I won’t be going until the rain stops.”
“That tree won't bear fruit until the end of the week, maybe,” Grace replies, waving her hand dismissively. “…This is a good sample, Spellman, great eye.”
“Thanks,” you laugh in reply. 
Your back is still facing Jake, and each second you waste looking away from him makes Jake feel more impatient to see your eyes on him again. He watches very observantly as you stretch your arms up with a small groan, the bottom of your tank rising as you reach for the ceiling and iron out the aches in your bones. 
Grace looks at you for a minute and her brows pinch. You clearly don’t notice as you turn in Norm’s general direction and make a comment about how terrible his notes were last night, but Grace doesn’t stop eye-balling you until she throws a short glance at Jake and narrows her eyes. 
He says nothing, dares not even move until Grace raises her eyebrows as if it will clear the calculating expression off her face. She sets the sample down on the counter and leans her weight on her elbow, reaching into her pocket for a cigarette.
“Hey, you’ve got a crazy ass rash on your chest, Spellman,” Grace says suddenly, and you whip around to look at her so quickly that Jake has to refrain from sighing in pity. “What happened?”
You peer down at your chest and Jake knows you’ve remembered and by now noticed the mark on your chest that is shaped like Jake’s mouth. For a second, there’s a tense silence, and Jake feels his stomach turning, half out of anxiousness and half thrill — could this be? Could this be the moment everyone finds out? 
He gives Norm a single look, but he’s not even interested in what’s being said, for he’s rearranging the notes he’s been reading and turns to his binder of other random papers.
“One of the samples Jake found for me kinda made me go all itchy,” you lie, very flawlessly too, and finally, you look at Jake.
It’s as if a volt of electricity has been sent through him — Jake has no idea what has suddenly made him feel this way, but something tells him it might be last night; might be the fact that you’re the most beautiful person in the room, on Pandora, in the entire universe. His mouth goes dry. 
“Fngapsutxwll?” Grace asks, and when you look back with a gentle and clueless nod, she frowns and sneers at Jake, “I told you to avoid bringing her carnivorous plants, Jake!”
“I didn’t know it was gonna make her break out in hives,” Jake replies. The lie is so natural that Grace scoffs loudly in reply. 
He hasn’t even brought you any fngapsutxwlls, and yet here he is, lying about it just for the sake of protecting this secret that more than anything, Jake wants your brother to know about.
“Where is it?” asks Grace. “I need to document this.”
“I told you that taking samples from Jake was a bad idea,” Norm pipes up, giving you a sympathetic, tight-lipped smile. 
“Oh, quit bouncin’ my dick, Spellman,” Jake groans, looking away from you with reluctance when you peer over at him.
“You’re a danger to this department. And a danger to my sister.”
“Shut up, Norm,” you huff, marching towards Jake and wrapping your arms around his head in a way that somehow smushes the side of it against your chest. Hey, Jake’s not complaining — he knows this is your own slight rebellion against your brother, but he will relish in this feeling and enjoy the displeasure that writes its way onto Norm’s face. 
“Your sister’s quite capable of making her own decisions around here,” Grace says, her voice tired suddenly. “And the very last thing I wanna do is listen to you fucking assholes fighting. It’s actually boring me. If you’re going to keep at it, I’ll send you back to the Gate, Norm, don’t tempt me. If it weren’t for the fact that this jarhead is days away from becoming one of the People, then believe me, he’d be back there faster than you can say Eywa. So knock it the fuck off.”
Message received: Norm all but deforms into a ball and rolls away to the bunks, with nothing to say for himself besides a disgruntled sigh as he disappears. Jake studies the sound of his footsteps as they stomp down the length of the metal corridor, but then he tunes his senses back to the feeling of your heartbeat lightly thudding against his temple, your hands cradling his head like a baby. 
He savours the feeling for a long minute before pushing the boat out and snaking his hand up the back of your leg, pulling you closer against him.
For a second, Grace glances over at Jake once more and then gives you a warning look. “And don’t encourage them, Spelly, you’re better than that.”
“Sorry,” you laugh, and Jake melts into the soft curve of your breasts like a cold animal craving warmth. Grace spares another fleeting moment looking at you with her menacing beady eye, the same she likes to give Jake whenever he does something slightly wrong, and then she turns back to face her microscope, giving Jake the opening to press his fingernails into your bare legs and look up at you.
The expression on your face when you peer down at him makes a smile bloom across his mouth before he can even stop it. He tilts his head back appreciatively and takes it all in; the look of slight shyness on your face and the soft yet slightly cheeky grin where your mouth is. 
Little Spellman, his woman — decorated with the imprint of his mouth on your tit, a kind of ethereal glow on your skin that he knows he helped put there. 
For a moment, despite all of the thoughts whirling around in Jake’s head, he can’t think of anything to say to you. All he can think of saying is something absurdly stupid about last night, but he’s acutely aware of Grace on the other side of the room, and Trudy floating in and out of the hallway as if she can’t quite decide on where to go.
Slowly, and then all at once, you unravel yourself from Jake and push away to lean your lower back against the lab desk. 
His eyes wander all over your face before you ask, “Sleep well, Sully?”
He sighs from the back of his throat, like he’s thinking, and then relaxes slightly.
“Best night’s sleep in a while,” he replies, folding his arms, watching the way your eyes glimpse down at the very slight curve of his biceps — they’re nothing on his avatar’s physique, but he finds with amazement that you somehow still find something to look at with fondness. 
He has no idea why you like him so much, or why you’re still looking at him like that despite having been tangled with his avatar just last night. On one hand, he knows it’s flattering that somebody likes everything he doesn’t about himself, from his boring personality to his dumbness to his disability. On the other hand, Jake knows that you could do ten thousand times better than with him — even if he factors in the Na’vi body that he suddenly feels more comfortable in than his real one.
“I didn’t even hear you get back in,” Trudy says, deciding to stick in this part of the lab rather than enter the dark lair of sulk that Norm has channeled in the bunks. She drags one of the low stools over with an obnoxious screech, and Jake has to tell himself it’s fine. 
He likes Trudy, likes that she’s a good friend and takes his side on things, but right now, he just wants her to go away; he wants everyone to go away so that he can steal five extra seconds with you before he has to roll back to the link unit and find Neytiri. 
“Well, I thought I’d be considerate and roll by everyone’s bunk extra quietly,” Jake replies. “You guys were out like lights.”
“I feel like all I do is sleep around here,” Trudy mutters.
“You’re welcome to join us on our study later,” Grace offers.
But Trudy cringes. “Can’t say I’ll be much help in a lab, doc.”
“No, we’re collecting wet samples later,” Grace explains. “The rain tank will refill our recycled water, but I need to patch up the reserve tank with Norm while we’re out. Little Spellman here will take cuttings from the forest out back, and we could use a lookout just in case any unwanted visitors join us.”
“I didn’t know about this,” you say confusedly. “When did we decide this?”
“Just now, I decided,” replies Grace. “While Jake’s out doing his shit, we need to do ours. Hope you packed your raincoat, Spelly.”
Paying no attention at all to the string of groans that come from your direction, Jake looks out the window again and gives himself a few seconds to think. 
If he manages to land a clean kill today with Neytiri, then he’ll be choosing his own ikran tomorrow. It is the single most important part of becoming an Omatikaya warrior, according to what he’s deduced from Neytiri’s repeated stress of the whole rite, and the pressing necessity of Jake perfecting his kills has been made his top priority by two women in his life; the woman showing him the ropes and the scientist beating his ass if he misses a video log.
But Jake has carved out a part of his mind and left it open in your name. More than anything else, he wants to stay here and watch you frantically running around in the rain cutting little leaves, talking shit about cells, looking awkwardly at where he fucked you last night in the very forest Grace is making you turn into a new study. 
On top of all that, Jake wants to be there when Norm takes his first whiff of the seeds planted for Jake’s revenge — oh, god, how he wants to see the sinking look of realisation on Norm’s face when he catches Jake’s scent all over his sister…
“Why are you still here, marine?” cuts Grace’s annoyed voice as he glances to the side and sees that the scientist is glaring at him like he’s pa’li shit on her shoes. “Don’t you have animals to hunt?”
Jake sighs through his nose and glances back at you. He wants to do what you asked of him, to tell you he likes you so much it’s making him go insane, how last night was incredible, how he wished you had rolled over and seen him before he went to sleep. But he doesn’t. Now’s not the time, and Jake all of a sudden thinks that he’s behaving like a freak and he moves to roll himself towards the link unit at the far of the link chamber.
As he busies himself by flicking all the necessary switches and deliberately taking longer than normal to get everything ready, he keeps his ears trained on the conversation happening behind him.
“We’ll have to work overtime on the new samples,” Grace says as she slides yet another sample under the microscope. “Parker’s calling us in for a routine meeting and inspection of our data tomorrow. Jake’s doing his Omatikaya training, but Parker will be expecting results to justify the rest of us coming all the way out here.”
“What, all of us are going?” Norm has decided to reappear from the bunks, much to Jake’s dismay.
Grace hums — she probably nods too, knowing her, but Jake makes it a point not to look as though not to blow his cover of listening in. “If I have to go, you guys will suffer with me.”
Jake feels the cavern in his chest hollow out even more. 
“So…Jake’s just staying here?” Norm asks, confused. “…Is that safe?”
“You worried about me, Norm?” Jake calls.
Norm probably frowns — yup: Jake turns and sees that sinister scowl on his face. “Somehow, you’d find a way, just like always. But we’re all the way up in the Hallelujah Mountains.”
“Funnily enough, I knew that, Norm,” says Grace.
“If something happens, Jake will need someone,” Norm continues, and for once, Jake actually agrees. If something were to happen with the link unit or the pressurising system, Jake wouldn’t know the first thing about fixing any of it — that is if he even got out of the unit without falling or dying. 
But now that Norm has mentioned it, Jake’s body fills with dread. Is Norm suggesting that he stay behind with Jake? Then his thoughts spiral: did Norm already know? Was he planning a whole thing to confront Jake or get him back? Norm didn’t strike Jake as the type to outright murder somebody, but hey, he wouldn’t put it past him to try somehow. 
Grace contemplates the idea for a moment and takes her time glancing over at Jake and then back at Norm. “Good point. You stay here, then.”
“Can I stay instead?” you interrupt, and Jake looks at you so quickly he fears he might get whiplash as a result.
Grace eyeballs you curiously, as does Norm. 
“Why?” Norm questions in a rather curt tone.
“No offence, but I haven’t met Parker since our orientation in the Avatar Program when we were students, and pretty much all of our conclusive research is made up of your notes, anyway. I can stay here and manage the lab, continue my own research, and make sure Jake gets in and out of the unit alright once he’s done.” You glance at Grace for good measure, “I’m reliable. But when it comes to talking to the guys in charge, you might be better off with Norm.”
If Grace thinks what you’ve said is suspicious, then she doesn’t show it. After all, you’re right, and everybody in the lab knows it. Jake, for one, knows how reliable you can be around the lab. 
He’s not biased, but he knows that you’re a far more trustworthy scientist than Norm is when it comes to checking the systems, keeping the lab clean and tidy, doing all of your chores and completing your logs, and in general, keeping the entire shack functioning as normal while everybody else is busy. 
He also knows how shy you can get, particularly with your work. Not even a few hours ago, you had tried to downplay your interest in the Na’vi to justify Norm’s graduation into the Avatar Driver program, and he can’t think of a single time you’ve told somebody that their research isn’t as important as your own. In fact, Jake isn’t even one hundred percent sure what you’re interested in when you’re not aiding everybody else’s research.
More importantly than any of that, Jake knows that you staying behind in the shack while everybody else flies out for an overnight at Hell’s Gate is particularly advantageous. It spells the perfect setting for the next stage of his so-called ‘revenge’, although he’s beginning to believe that soon enough, Jake will be fucking you for more than the thrill of it pissing Norm off.
Jake blinks and finds you looking at him, as if trying to coax a word or two of support from his mouth. He throws you a simple smile and angles his head towards Grace.
“It’s a no-brainer who I’d rather be spending a night with,” he says. Then he immediately cringes on the inside — that came out horribly wrong, no matter how truthful it may have actually been.
But still, Grace doesn’t think twice about the otherwise nasty implications of his words. Instead, she shrugs and turns to the janky coffee machine that is tucked nearby to a selection of mason jars by the mini microwave.
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying you willingly want to spend a whole night in this remote shack with Jake?” Norm asks, looking at you as if you’ve grown a third head. “Alone?”
“What would be so bad about it?” you reply casually. “He’ll hardly be here, anyway. Besides, if he pisses me off, I’ll just kick him out of his chair and leave him somewhere.”
Jake laughs, “Rude? I thought you liked my wheelchair.”
“Whatever,” Grace announces, just before you get the chance to reply with something witty to make Jake laugh in return. “We’ll be back as soon as the day breaks. Chacón says she needs VFR to get through the mountains, so we’ll play it safe. As long as you can hold out until then, Spelly, then go ahead.”
The sound of the link unit whirring to life makes Jake jump slightly, and he reluctantly glances away to punch in the data on the screen while the rest of the lab busy themselves in their usual routine. 
Jake can’t believe it. He could not have predicted a more perfect result.
Tomorrow, there’ll be nobody else besides you and him.
It is quite literally perfect news.
As Jake hears Norm begin his on-brand rant over how you should be cautious around an idiot like himself, he allows himself the simple pleasure of grinning wickedly to himself, feigning innocence as he very carefully looks at you again out the corner of his eye. 
After a while of fighting off your brother, you eventually look back at Jake and smile, so radiantly and mischievously that he immediately knows that whatever he’s thinking, you’re thinking too.
He heaves himself up and lets Grace think she’s God incarnated by helping him nestle down in the unit, all while he savours the last few minutes he has letting his mind be swarmed with thoughts of tomorrow — thoughts of him with you wrapped in his arms, nobody around to watch, nothing in the world to keep him from claiming you as his own all over again.
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Following Grace’s orders isn’t often a challenge for you — in fact, being given instructions on what to do has become a reliable part of your daily schedule, and it just so happened that you did a lot of what Grace asked without any fuss at all. But right now, you’re having a hard time understanding just why taking samples of a few wet leaves is in any way necessary.
Since earlier that morning, the rain has transformed into a torrential downpour; the raincoat covering your entire body is drenched through, the hood tightened so intensely around your face that it shadows the outline of your exo-pack comically. Still, you practically glare down at the pamtseowll taking lashes from the rain, its catty appearance looking pathetically sad as you snip a segment off and secure it in the sample bag, huffing as you go along.
Everybody in the laboratory has their own interests, their own research to conduct. Grace has been working on a dense study of forest fauna since you arrived on Pandora, and now Norm has decided to work on a branch of research concerning the fauna and its changes when in contact with rainfall.
So far, he’s accumulated a valuable cache of research, and yet, here you are, collecting his samples while he stands on his blue tip-toes and helps Grace fix the faulty water reserve tank.
You can’t even think of the last time anybody offered to help you out with your own research. In a way, the only helpful person has been Jake, and that’s only by a stretch. The variety of cuttings or entire uprooted plants that he brings you after his hours and hours spent on the ground and in the village have been the subjects of your research, but dying plants flattened and prodded in a lab only communicate so much at a time.
Being out here, in the open field, would be the most beneficial if it weren’t for Grace’s restrictive ‘field hours’. 
With a frown, you pop open a small sample tube and carefully angle it underneath another pamtseowll, catching a generous amount of rainwater and firmly sealing it closed. You’ve snipped and sliced a dozen different plants, shadowed by Trudy and her chorus of equally unamused sighs, before Grace and Norm successfully patch up the tank and join you.
“Felinafolia ferrugenia,” says Grace as she stands over your shoulder. She looks annoyingly refreshed considering the onslaught of rain, dressed in a large raincoat of her own but with her legs on display, her shorts the only clothing she appreciates when in her avatar. “Cat ear. Another great sample, Spellman.”
You grunt in reply. Based on the way Grace busies herself with one of the starfishing pxiwll plants instead of replying, you predict she hasn’t heard your complaints, and so you stomach another sigh and crouch over another plant.
“How many cuttings do you want, Norm?” you ask, teeth chattering in the cold.
“As many as we can before all the bags fill up,” Grace replies instead. She jerks her head towards the deeper forest and suggests moving inwards. And honestly, you’d want to, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s currently prowling towards the same lay of forest that Jake took you to last night, and the nerves root you to the spot.
It’s the very last place you’d rather visit with your boss, your brother, and a friendly yet sometimes intimidating aviator pilot. Your eyes close in on the familiar jag of the rock, feeling your heartbeat tremble as Grace approaches it without a care in the world. 
Trudy passes by you with a confused curve of her eyebrows, already stepping in Grace’s oversized footprints and making her way into the concealed cover of trees and branches, and it is only when Norm drops to a crouch beside you that you finally tear your eyes from the rock and look at him.
Norm’s eyebrows are low, a ripple deepening across his forehead as he stares at you, like one would a tricky puzzle in the newspaper. His eyes flicker up and down the raincoat analytically, his lip curling in distaste before he inhales, nostrils flaring, and bites out, “Why do you smell like that?”
Your heart is hammering so loudly that it makes your chest ache, and around the gigantic lump in your throat, you gape at Norm and manage to ask, “Like what?”
“Like… I don’t know, all weird,” he continues, looking perplexed and disturbed at the same time. “Like. Musky. Like… No. I don’t know, but it’s weird. I don’t even know what you smell like, but it’s not normal.”
Without having to put too much thought into it, you’re confident that you know exactly what and who you smell like. A certain oversized ex-marine who Norm just so happens to hate all of a sudden. 
It shocks you how scared Norm’s assessment makes you feel. Of course, you knew that the Na’vi had an incredibly heightened sense of smell, and had that fact confirmed yesterday with Jake sniffing the damp spot between your legs, but you somehow didn’t expect Norm to be able to smell any difference on you. 
This is exactly what Jake wanted to happen; you gauge Norm’s facial expressions for a long time, trying to figure out if he’s made any connections yet, but he continues to sniff at you in disgust, permanently confused by what the hell it could even be.
“Are you sure it’s not just the raincoat?” you ask lamely, taking a pointed look down at the waxy coat enveloping you. “It was just in one of the supply boxes, it probably smells really weird since it’s been in storage for a while.”
Norm inches closer and takes a massive inhale.
“I guess it could be the coat,” Norm decides slowly, watching you as you hover for a moment before stepping off to follow Grace and Trudy. All of a sudden, being over there is better than being here, being interrogated by Norm.
Still, he doesn’t get the hint and he says as he follows you, “But it’s just strange. It’s so strong.”
“If you keep going on about it, it’s gonna hurt my feelings,” you tell him, hoping that he might shut up and spare you the anxiety of him figuring it out. “You trying to say I stink?”
“Yeah,” Norm replies dumbly. “Because you do. You usually smell fine, I know what body wash you use because I steal it all the time.”
“Right,” you drawl, peering at him from the corner of your eye as you both near the others. Trudy tosses her head over her shoulder and startles at the sight of Norm, as if she forgot he was even there and slowly creeping up behind her. 
For a moment, you wish you had the ability to forget about Norm, but even when he crouches next to Grace and assists in marvelling over a rather average-looking moss blanket, you can’t help but anxiously stare at both of them, as if waiting for something more to be said.
It’s not as if you regret any of last night. On the contrary, you think it might have altered your body chemistry and made you more desperate. While your first tumble with Jake hadn’t been in the way you expected, or even in the form of Jake you were most used to, there’s nothing you can say to make you convince yourself that it was a mistake. Since when did mistakes feel that good?
Your embarrassingly long crush on Jake has been dragged out until now, and quite frankly, the last thing you want to do is suppress the elation you feel about finally taking the next step with him; to finally hold his attention, to be someone he actually feels interested in.
To be “his woman”, to hear Jake say that you were one of the only things ever keeping him from throwing his life into being Na’vi felt like a dream last night, and even now, in his absence, all you can think about is how badly you want him back here, how badly you want him.
But not at the cost of total humiliation. If Norm were to turn around right now and accuse you of the truth, you genuinely believe you might die from embarrassment. It’s one thing sleeping with Jake Sully, but it’s another thing entirely to be found out for sleeping with Jake’s avatar. 
Is it even safe? 
Instead of helping Grace and Norm in their collection of samples, you fall deeper and deeper into your spiral of thoughts. You’re so deeply immersed in them that several minutes go by and Grace and Norm have moved a few feet closer to the rock, studying the moss that creeps up the jagged edges, moss you felt on your back last night. And yet, you still don’t startle out of your thoughts — at least not until a dark shadow falls over you, and Trudy jumps around with wide eyes before groaning with annoyance.
“How the hell did you get here so quietly?” Trudy snaps, and the distress in her voice makes you turn your head over your shoulder. When you see a strangely slender blue waist in front of your eyes, you jump too and look up to find Jake’s face hidden in a slight shadow.
When he looks away from Trudy and finds your eyes behind the glare on the exo-pack, his mouth widens into a giant smirk, and despite the shivering cold of the stormy weather, you feel your body flush with a sudden warmth.
God, sleeping on the fact of what you did with Jake did not make the yearning go away. 
Jake shrugs. “At least I know my training’s paying off.”
At that, Grace acknowledges Jake standing behind you and turns to face him with her hands on her thighs. “Oh. Marine. Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?”
“I’m done for the day,” he announces, his grin widening, if it were even possible. You take the moment to soak up the sight of him in his Omatikaya attire — the rain sliding across his wide torso, looking a shade darker in the dim light, the very faint glimmer of his freckles creating a stitch work of light across his skin. When Grace asks why, he tells her, “I’m ready.”
Grace gasps — she sounds happy, and after your eyes linger for a fleeting second on the wet cloth hanging across Jake’s crotch, you turn to face her. 
“Really?” she asks.
Jake nods. “My iknimaya is tomorrow morning.”
Grace laughs disbelievingly and rises to stand, her hands falling to her hips while Norm remains all but glued to the floor, his eyes glazed with envy as he glances at Jake.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Jake!” Grace laughs again. “Really. Well done.”
“Nice work, man!” Trudy adds, nodding her head at Jake. “You a tough warrior now, huh?”
You hear Jake snickering behind you, the noise making you shudder. Thankfully, it’s still raining, so you hope it looks like you’re cold rather than on edge about the avatar behind you. 
“You walked all the way here to tell us that?” asks Grace, sounding genuinely curious as she turns back to Norm and quite literally yanks up a whole plant. “Why?”
“Nah. Neytiri wanted to show me the basic route for tomorrow morning,” Jake explains. You can hear him shuffling around behind you, but you’ve become rooted to the spot facing away from him. “Tsu’tey pretty much hates me. He’ll be gagging for the chance to abandon me before we even get to the rookery.”
Grace makes a noise of agreement, which launches her into a serious discussion of how Jake needs to respect Tsu’tey more in order to receive more respect in return. From behind you, Jake groans playfully, although lets Grace continue her presentation on why Tsu’tey is a good leader (not that Jake ever said he wasn’t), and you intensely watch Norm lean his arm on the wedge of rock you recognise from last night until you become aware of the fact that the rain has slowed — or at least above you, it has.
Craning your head up, you notice Jake’s hands hovering over your head, as if acting as some kind of personal umbrella. He’s still looking at Grace when you peer at his face, but instinctively, like he felt you looking, his eyes flicker downwards to yours and he smiles again, his eyes halving into curves. 
Yep. The yearning has definitely persisted.
“Don’t stay too long, Jake, you’ll have to take yourself back down to the village before the storm picks up,” Grace says after her rant has stretched for at least five minutes on the value of Tsu’tey’s comradeship.
“Yeah. Though Neytiri says it’s almost passed,” Jake replies, adjusting his footing behind you, his hands unmoving. 
“Is Neytiri here?” you decide to ask suddenly. Hey, you can’t help but feel curious about the woman who has been helping Jake get to where he currently is.
You somehow miss the confused scrunch of Jake’s eyebrows, as though he finds the question completely irrelevant.
“She’s…around,” he says. “On her ikran somewhere. Practically left me all by myself.”
“Well, I imagine she has better things to do,” says Grace, sparing you the humiliation of coming up with a reason for even bringing her up in the first place, other than to just be nosey. You picture Neytiri stalking the lot of you from a perch with her ikran, trying to figure out if the Sky People keeping Jake’s human body alive are worthy to be left alone in the beautiful Ayram alusìng.
The mention of Neytiri seems to set something off inside Grace, who was apparently looking for any excuse to talk about the village again. She turns around on her haunches and begins another lengthy discussion on the Omatikaya and their ikran, all while Norm scowls into his sample pouches and Trudy steps away from you all to glare at the unassuming grey sky.
You are uncomfortably aware of Jake’s figure still looming over you, his hands sheltering you from the spitting rain and his tail occasionally curling around his leg to jab into your waist playfully.
There’s nothing to fear with Jake, nothing to fear of his potential interest in other people, and you banish the thoughts before they take up permanent residence. You’re better than that. And besides, if Jake didn’t really want you, he wouldn’t be acting like a Na’vi umbrella just for your convenience, wouldn’t be having so much trouble stopping himself from grinning down at you every once in a while.
A gust of cool air pushes its way through the forest, and you shudder dramatically, hoping it might guilt Grace out of the trees and back into the labs. Instead, she snorts, tells you to suck it up, and snaps at Norm for manhandling a sample, all before you feel a warmth surge behind you and two large, blue arms securing around your body.
Before you can even process it, you’re between Jake’s thighs, the large and solid expanse of his torso flat against your back and his cheek against the wet waxy material of your hood. You peer around the side of your coat to find his face, almost jumping when his big golden eyes are staring back at you.
“Don’t catch a cold, Spelly,” Jake says, his taut muscles tightening around you. He smirks at the fleeting look you throw in the group’s direction and purses his lips in an effort not to laugh at how funny everything is. How Norm is leaning against the rock he fucked you on and has no idea. How beautifully hilarious it is to see.
“Famous last words,” you reply, teeth chattering.
“Then go inside, grumpy,” Grace huffs, waving her arm in a flamboyant gesture, “Sully, walk Spellman back before you head to the village, will you?”
Jake shrugs, your body moving with him as he does so. It feels strange to be wrapped up in his arms so openly, with no rush or thrill of being caught through a window or a sniff. Norm looks purple with rage as he glares daggers into Jake’s face, though Jake’s barely looking at Norm, not when his much more favourable sibling is so close and pretty in his face like this.
He very gracefully moves to a stand, his hands moving from your body with reluctance before he reaches out, fingers widening and curling as he grabs for your own. Shyly, you reach to take it, hearing Norm mutter something not-so-graceful under his breath and stepping in Jake’s shadow to follow as he makes his way with you back towards the lab.
The muddy ground squelches under Jake’s feet, but with the way he walks so carelessly, it’s as though he has already become acclimatised to the Na’vi ways. And, you have to admit, he sports the village clothing with class and style.
Jake’s beads clink together as he turns his head in an incline to see you. 
“Tell me it was everything I hoped for,” he says suddenly, and as you spot the cocky little smirk on his mouth, you laugh and shake your head, already knowing what he’s asking about.
“Norm said I smelled weird. I tried my best not to be offended.”
Jake sniggers, “That man has no idea.” Looking pleased, Jake swings your intertwined hands and adds quickly, “And you just smell like me. I like it.”
“You would like it.”
“In the village, couples smell like each other all the time,” he says, a bit too casually, and you sideways glance at him. “Like, to lay claim.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about laying claims when the only other man I see on a daily basis is literally my brother,” you remind him.
“Yeah. But, still. The idea,” Jake shrugs. “Isn’t it nice?”
The both of you round the corner of the lab and disappear from sight of the scientists back in the forest, now totally concealed behind the front of the lab and the drab look of the short grass and mud. On the bright side, the rain is slowing considerably, which is probably the only reason why you’re not cringing when you have to look up at Jake just to see his face.
“You know Neytiri has zero interest in me, right?”
You refrain from groaning. “I know, Jake.”
“Okay, ‘cause maybe it wasn’t obvious, so I’m just saying—”
“Let’s not… We’re not gonna do that, okay?” you say, cringing at the fact you brought it up in the first place. “I get it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Jake,” you laugh, pausing. What can you even say? 
He shifts slightly. “I told you that scientists are more my thing, and you know, what I meant by that was—”
“I know,” you groan, waving your hands desperately, “and I believe you. Don’t make this weird, Jake.”
Mercifully, he surrenders, holding up his hands to announce his resignation from the point. For a few more seconds, he stares at you, assesses every flinch or twitch of features on your face, and seems relieved when he finds nothing that indicates you’re upset with him.
Better than that, he completely sets aside the conversation; he smiles genuinely, as close to innocent as Jake can get, and then his eyes avert to the ground and he runs his tongue across the inside of his cheek.
Before the silence stretching between you can fester into anything else, you announce your leave with a heavy sigh and twist towards the doors.
“Get out of here, big guy,” you tell him, already punching in one of the codes to access the pressure chamber. “I’ll try and stay up to see you tonight.”
“Yeah right,” he teases, still in the same position you left him in. “My sleepy girl. Couldn’t manage it last night, I was gone like fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen precious minutes of sleep,” you say, watching Jake’s grin widen as the doors slide open and in you go. There’s no need for a goodbye; you’ll see him again later.
As soon as you’re inside of the lab again, you waste zero time in climbing out of the horribly drab coat and leaving it to dry in a cupboard that Grace hangs wet clothes in from time to time. The wax won’t run properly through the laundry machines, and so you leave it there, thankful that no rain seeped through to your clothes underneath, and shudder at the temperature change once back inside the strange comfort of the lab.
Dutifully, you place a bag of samples next to one of the microscopes, and you’re about to fish out a towel to head straight for the showers when you catch a glimpse of something blue outside the window — Jake, bending over to peer into the lab, tapping his finger on the glass to get your attention.
You look at him questioningly. Then, you watch in disbelief and amusement as Jake grins, puts his fisted hands down by his abdomen and then lifts them up to his shoulders. It takes a moment of confusion before it clicks — this motherfucker is asking you to lift up your shirt.
Jake nods, no doubt laughing to himself outside the lab as you gape at him. Perhaps you misunderstood him, but the look of eager anticipation and smugness on Jake’s face tells you otherwise. 
You look at the window to the right of you, paranoid that any of the three people you live with happen to be approaching the lab. The fear of someone like your brother or your boss seeing you with your tits out for the enjoyment of a massive flirt like Jake Sully blurs into thrill, and just to see him grin like he did last night, you laugh to yourself and fist the bottom of your shirt, rolling it up and over your breasts until they fall out on display.
You look at Jake expectantly. He peers closer, his fangs displayed as he smiles so wide you think his face might split into two, and after a long, drawn-out moment of ogling them, Jake finds your eyes and nods appreciatively, raising one thumb for good measure.
Your shirt is back down over your breasts by the time Jake is standing upright and stalking towards the edge of the cliffs, a speed in his step. Waiting until he’s completely out of view, you watch him disappear past the drop and spin back to stare at nothing in particular, until a ripple of laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably, your face unbelievably hot.
The possibility of the shower running cold all of a sudden sounds kind of appealing.
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True to his word, Jake makes it back to the labs just after you’ve eaten, and is subject to Grace’s maternal fussing as she thrusts a food pouch into his lap and watches him until the contents have been devoured. Jake would need all of his energy for tomorrow — the first crucial steps were to be well-fed and well-rested.
“What’ll happen once you’re one of the People?” you ask Jake, comfortably nestled on one of the deck chairs that Grace found in storage that has been set up in the corner of the lab designated for eating and talking.
From spending a few months with Grace, everybody has become neutralised to her obsessive habit of separating her needs in her living space — somewhere to eat and talk, somewhere to work; somewhere to link up, somewhere to bathe, somewhere to sleep.
Jake shrugs with a smile. “I guess that’ll be it. I’ll have my ikran, they’ll throw me a little party, I’ll have suitors dancing at my feet…”
You smirk, eyebrows raised playfully. “Mighty bachelor.”
“But that’s not important, is it, Jake?” Grace interrupts pointedly.
“No,” he replies in genuine agreement. “The first course of action will, of course, be making Grace the boss. There’ll be a school in the village by next week.”
“Har, har,” replies Grace sarcastically. She takes a swig of her beer and smiles. “I just meant that relations are important. If we can do anything to establish friendly alliances with the People, it saves a whole lot of bloodshed and pain.”
“I hear you,” Jake assures her. “I am excited for my party, though.”
“Gotta pass first,” Norm says, balancing a pencil on his upper lip. “Easier said than done.”
“Hey, I just thought of my first plan of action. How about you do everything I’ve just done Norm? I’d love to see you try,” Jake says. 
Now that he’s already bedded you and is fairly certain of the longing twist in his stomach being there as a physical reminder of his feelings for you, Jake’s not really interested in letting Norm treat him like a loser anymore.
Norm just throws a middle finger in Jake’s direction. Before Norm’s usual dark and depressing energy pollutes the good vibes in the room, you quickly jump back into the conversation. 
“I wanna go to your party,” you say.
“Grace can come,” Jake replies sympathetically, his lips vanishing into a downturned frown. “If you have time and find a link unit in the Gate, then you’re welcome, Neytiri said so.”
“What about me? While you two are out getting drunk, I’ll be here, what, on my own?”
“Sorry, Spelly,” Jake frowns. “Hey, how about we paint you blue and try and sneak you in? Might pass as a Na’vi child if you’re lucky.”
“Charming…”
You tune out of Grace’s promises to make it to Jake’s party — if one even happens in the first place — and focus your attention on Jake.
You’ve only been in close proximity with Jake’s avatar for less than two days, but already, you’re making out the shape of his Na’vi features in his real ones. When he laughs, his head tilts up in the same way it did last night; his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he tries to reign the laughter in, the crease near his eyes as he purses his lips, the angle of his head when he finds your eyes locked on him once he does a scan of the people in the lab.
All it took was one night with his avatar to completely amplify the feelings you have for him. And all it took was one night in his avatar to breathe his own feelings into reality.
By the time Jake has made his way to the bathroom after pulling the short straw and being the last one in there, you’re already cocooned in bed, staring up at the fuzzy darkness intensified by Trudy’s top bunk. 
With Trudy cleaning her pistols and Grace and Norm making sure all of their notes are in order for the early flight out to Hell’s Gate tomorrow, you focus your attention on the sounds of Jake in the small bathroom — the sounds of him brushing his teeth and cursing when he knocks something off a shelf, the little squeak of his wheels as he does his best to move around. 
Your heart is hammering twice its usual pace when the light vanishes and his wheels grow louder as they amble towards the bunks.
Cracking open one eye, you just about make him out in the faint light cast by your overhead lamp. He rolls into view, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, although his features even out and he relaxes once he confirms that your eyes are, in fact, still open.
“Got me worried for a sec,” he says quietly. Everyone is still up, and he can’t risk giving them yet another reason to cockblock him.
“Just in time. I was dozing off,” you reply, nose wrinkling as you laugh at the roll of his eyes. 
Jake adjusts himself, leaning down on his elbows as they mould into the thin mattress and cushion by your side. You shuffle, shifting your head to look at him as his eyes flicker across your face. 
He supports his face with his hand pressed into his cheek, the other hand lifting to ghost across your face, lightly trailing over your hairline. There is a slight vacancy in his eyes, like his mind is full of thoughts that are taking his attention elsewhere, and for a moment, you wonder what to even say until his eyes snap back down to yours and his hand on his cheek moves.
His finger and thumb shift to squish your cheeks together, bringing your mouth into a pucker as he leans his head down and plants a kiss on your lips.
Jake breaks away after a moment, barely creating a distance between you before he kisses you again, and again. His hand releases your cheeks and with the other, he gently strokes the top of your head, all so softly it’s as though making any sudden movements might cause you to jump away. 
There’s a faint taste of toothpaste on your mouth when Jake pulls away, your eyes still closed for a second longer than his as he maps your expression, not even trying to hide his pleased smile when they do open to the sight of his face still hanging over yours.
Jake steals another quick kiss on your chin, heaving himself back up with a forced and slightly dramatic groan.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he tells you quietly, his voice suddenly hoarse as though kissing you has winded him. His chest is falling a bit more unevenly than before — has kissing you left Jake with the same fluttery feeling as it has with you?
You nod, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip to prevent the blinding smile from shining through. You’ve gotta leave him with a little bit of yearning — he can’t have it too easy.
“Really hope you don’t die in the morning,” you reply.
He laughs unexpectedly. “You know what? Me too.”
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The lab is silent.
After so many weeks of being surrounded by the noise of other people, it is jarring to be alone. The metal lab groans in the wind, the frosty glass rattling as it gusts past the container you now call home. Outside, the front of the cliffside the shack is perched upon is glowing vibrantly, pulsing with energy, but unlike a few days ago, you have no desire to head outside, all too content in the toasty warmth you’ve curated in the lab.
You try not to feel too alone — in the link chamber, Jake is in deep like a tick, probably partying with the clan. With no distress calls from Grace and no disturbances from Jake’s most likely agonising session in the unit, you assume that all went well with Jake’s iknimaya. He must be buzzing, light and dizzy with whatever native alcohol he’s been rewarded with.
Meanwhile, here you are, waiting for one of your watercolour paintings to dry. A quiet night in the lab constitutes a well-earned night off, although you could consider your relaxing drawings of yesterday’s sample research if you really needed to. 
With your knee up by your chest, you swirl the lab chair in a lazy circle whilst you wait, listening to the silence grow tinny as it stretches on. It occurs to you that you actually don’t enjoy being alone the way you used to. You’ve grown so accustomed to noise that without it, the world feels hopelessly lonely. You find with shock and horror that you even miss Norm complaining about everything, followed by some fancy Grace quip or Trudy laugh. 
You don’t know how much longer Jake may be in there for. A couple more minutes? Hours? The longer you stare in the direction of the link chamber, the more anxious you feel.
So, maybe being all alone in the Hallelujah Mountains wasn’t what you dreamed it was going to be, except for the opportunity it gave you to colour a few pictures of stems and flower buds.
Sighing, you dab your little finger into one of the dry petal paintings and swirl the paintbrush in the water again, deciding to start on colouring in some of the bioluminescence outside into a spare square of space. In no way, shape or form are you an artist, but the painting calms you, and welcomingly takes your mind off the fact that you’ve been alone in this lab pretty much since you woke up this morning. 
The paintbrush flicks over where you’re trying to imagine a tawtsngal from memory to spruce up the otherwise dull-looking painting of the view in front of you, and you’re just about to dip the paintbrush into the water to dilute the colour when you hear a rumble outside the shack.
Never a good sign.
You still, listening: the shack rattles twice, the table shaking, and for a moment you consider the possibility of there being a landslide nearby. With wide eyes, you jump up off your chair and rush to the window, peering out into the vibrant dark to check for any fallen rocks, but you see nothing besides grass and plants, and an even darker outline of jagged wings landing where Trudy normally lands her ship.
The ikran manifests into shape, a map of twinkling white freckles settling down in the short grass and screeching out in the night. You try to manage your breathing as you take in its sheer size; it raises up and screeches again, digging the speared claws under its spread of wing into the soft dirt beneath it and it bows down. 
For a moment, it does not register to you that someone is climbing down off their back until you see their starry shape jogging towards the window — your eyes are still glued to the proud ikran showing off in the night, settling down in one of the low yet fluffed out trees near the fyìpmaut tree Grace has become infatuated with.
When your eyes finally snap over to the approaching Na’vi, you let out an embarrassingly loud sigh of relief when you realise it’s Jake, followed by a strangled noise of shock when you realise, yet again, that it’s Jake. Avatar Jake. Big, blue and beautiful Jake, who is currently punching in a string of numbers into the door and letting himself inside the lab.
Your hands are trembling like crazy when the air pressurises around him, and you almost don’t even know what to do when the inside door unlocks and swings open, and in he comes. Jake glances around the lab in a crouch, looking somewhat uncomfortable as if he forgot just how large he was, and he grins when he finds you.
“Hey, my hì’i syulang,” he calls, his hands reaching in a fumble under the emergency exo-packs to fetch one of the AAS-RO2s secured in a rack underneath. They were rarely used unless Grace or Norm needed to for some reason bring their avatars inside for something and were too lazy to wake up and do it in their human bodies, and for some reason, seeing Jake fiddle with one and actually get it to work despite having never touched one before feels absurd to you.
You hum with interest once he’s successfully geared up, smiling when he looks at you for approval.
“Hey, yourself. You got good with Na’vi.”
“Practise makes perfect,” he shrugs, though looks too cocky for his own good now that you’ve complimented him on it.
“I’m not tiny, by the way. You’re just huge.”
“Yep,” Jake grins, stepping towards you with two equally huge strides. His eyes catch sight of the drawings on top of the table and he drops to a comfortable crouch by your side, his brows high as he asks, “Aw, you colouring?”
You scoff quietly. “It’s research. Botanical, legitimate research.”
His hands skim through the pages with interest and he hums. “Looks fun.” When he looks up, it’s outside of the window, and you follow his gaze back to the resting ikran outside. “Wanna draw him? He’s real cute.”
“I see you survived your iknimaya in one piece, mighty warrior,” you reply, feeling the muscles of his arms with a teasing smile, and Jake looks at you from the side and his gaze softens. “How was your party, then?”
“Good,” he nods thoughtfully, gaze averting as he looks one more time at his ikran before dedicating his attention solely on you. After all, you are what he came here for in the first place, if not to show off to then just to see. His eyes find yours again and he brushes one of his hands up over your forehead again, thumbing your hairline, gaze so soft and warm it could melt butter. 
“Grace came,” he continues, “the kids got her dancing by the fire. I tried some rank liquor, had to do my own ceremonial dance with about ten different people.” Jake’s smile widens affectionately, “Neytiri showed me the Tree of Voices. Utraya Mokri, the People’s direct link to Eywa.” You can’t help but smile with him as he tells you all of this. His happiness is infectious. “Eywa is…incredible. Grace needs to try it, she’d lose her mind.”
You laugh at that. “That could be your first course of action, Tsyeyk Suli.”
Jake’s entire face reshapes with adoration, so much so that he physically cannot stop himself as he pulls your head forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The action takes you by surprise — you’ve barely begun processing the kiss Jake left you with last night, let alone accepted the possibility of another one being given by the body that lay you over a rock once.
He pulls away, and when he does, you notice the lurching gesture in his chest, as though he's struggling to breathe, and you pointedly bring up the respirator around his neck and laugh.
“Damn. I took all your breath away. Chug some dioxide.”
Jake rolls his eyes but takes a sip of the CO2, eventually falling back into place. Now reminded of the tedious ritual he’s made himself a slave to by coming in here in his new favourite form, Jake quickly thinks back to whatever it was he was talking about and continues.
“Neytiri also told me that I have now earned my place in the village,” Jake begins again, his voice a little bit dreamy. More than anything, you wish you could have been there to be a part of the vision playing in Jake’s mind, to visualise his stories of the village and the forest and his place in all of it. 
“I may live in the village, so to speak, I can carve my own bow from the wood of Hometree.” When his eyes search your face hesitantly, he adds very slowly, “and I may also take a woman.”
“Oh,” you say, quickly scanning his own expression for anything out of the ordinary. When his eyes round in shape and his ears flatten against his head, the corners of his mouth twitching, you raise your eyebrows and ask, “and how do you feel about that?”
“Well, I told Neytiri that I had already chosen someone,” Jake tells you.
“Did you?”
He nods with a hum, trying not to look so amused, though failing horribly at it. “And so Neytiri told me that I should go and seek out my woman to tell her that I have made my decision. She was a little eager to get rid of me, actually.”
“And…that’s why you’re here?” you ask, almost regretting it when Jake opts for staring at you for a second too long, in a silence too concerning. Then, he smirks, brows high, eyes narrowed, like you asking is the silliest thing in the entire world. 
“Obviously, Spellman.” Jake laughs as you do, bemused, “Jesus. For such an intelligent woman, you’re so stupid sometimes.”
“Takes stupid to know stupid,” you reply.
“Exactly,” he croons, face so close to you that he’s able to push his face forward to kiss your lips without much effort at all.
It’s not as though you forgot what being around Jake’s avatar felt like; it’s only been a few days since you last encountered him, and yet it feels like the first, your stomach rolling over itself like a tsunami as Jake’s lips find your own in perfect harmony.
Admittedly, you had expected your next tumble with Jake to be in his human body, but now that he’s here, now that he’s already flown himself out here to find you, you can’t think of any reasons to turn him away.
Last time, any possibility of kissing Jake had been next to impossible thanks to the exo-pack, but now, with nothing in the way, Jake relishes in the feeling of your lips against his own, his large hand cradling the side of your face. 
Of course, he’s kissed you before, yesterday at a strangle angle to accommodate his unfortunate wheelchair. Now, there’s nothing to hinder his progress, nothing to prevent his plans — it’s just you and him, alone in the lab, exactly how he wanted it to be.
It’s as though the gravity in the room is being sucked out when Jake pulls away; you feel like you’re floating merrily off the chair, leaning forward as though to find him in the space he’s created, and Jake laughs from his throat and sweeps his gaze down your body. 
No longer are you wearing your favoured shorts or tank top. To his delight, you’re in a long t-shirt that hangs around your knees, presumably only panties underneath, and his mouth twitches with intrigue.
“Cute outfit,” Jake says appreciatively, using his finger to lift up the bottom of the shirt and peering at your thighs, seeking out the bite he left you with the night before. When he finds the very faint outline, he laughs boyishly and glances back at you, “even cuter tattoo, honey.”
You laugh, and then Jake runs his finger across the nearly gone indent and hitches your shirt higher up over his wrist, the sight of your baby blue panties peeking into view as his grin widens. 
“Why are you grinning so hard?”
Jake shrugs; now both of his hands are at your hips, shirt pulled up at the front, his golden gaze trained on your crotch. 
“Just happy,” he says simply. Though he appears perfectly content zoning out on the sloping curve of your crotch, Jake looks up and says, “Did you know I was coming?”
“Well, I expected the real Jake to be here by now,” you confess, thinking about Jake lying in the link unit controlling his avatar with his hands on your hips.
Jake’s brows furrow, his smile flattening to an amused line. “I’m real.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Forget about him.”
“I like him.”
“And that makes me really happy, believe me, but this is real for me. This right here, you and me,” Jake says, his voice a little lighter than it was before, which is the only real way you can tell that he’s not joking.
This is serious for Jake. It’s not just part of a ploy to piss off Norm. Jake has become undone with his feelings, in a way that is so unbecoming of him that it’s actually embarrassing; now that he’s practically on his knees in front of you telling you it’s real, telling you that he’s pretty much told Neytiri and by extension the whole village that you’re his and he is yours, you know without a shadow of doubt in your heart that he is being sincere.
“Believe me, honey. It brings me no greater joy than knowing that you’ve been interested in me since we first met—”
“Well. If we’re being technical, then it was just before you got chased by the than—”
Jake simply frowns. “Hey. I’m not fucking around here, Spellman. I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”
“…Sorry. Go on.”
“…If I knew in my heart that I could give you what I want you to have from my wheelchair, I so would, but everything is easier like this. I can move. I can do whatever you want. I can be whatever you want. And you took all of me so well. Didn’t even struggle. You’re a perfect woman.”
“I love that you think that, but, you know, you're already everything I want from that wheelchair, Jake,” you tell him, and his ears pin back in surprise and his entire expression falls; he doesn’t look upset, however. Rather, he looks in awe. “You don’t have to walk or fuck me on a rock to give me everything you think I want. I just want you. Everything else is a huge, incredibly pleasant bonus.” 
You reach out for his face and rest your hand over his cheek, feeling his skin on your own. He feels warm to the touch. 
“You know how I feel,” you continue quietly, “and I like every second with you. I just wanted you to know for sure that even though you met my needs in your avatar, you never needed to.” Jake has barely moved an inch since you started talking, but when you add, “Even though I really like you like this,” Jake’s face twitches, like he’s trying his best to hold himself together. “A lot, actually.”
The splitting smile that stretches on Jake’s face fills your chest with a giddy type of glee.
Then, Jake leans forward, his forehead tilted against yours. Being so close to his face is unreal — you don’t know what to look at first: the lines of tanhì over his skin, the smooth look of it, the slight pink of his snout, the tug on the inside of his lip...
“You’re mine, Spellman,” Jake murmurs.
“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, matching his own look of delight and feeling a fluttering rush through your chest when Jake secures his hands in a cradle around your face, bringing your lips back together with a sudden fierceness that, this time, is not met with surprise.
Unlike before, unlike the short kiss that had felt stolen between you, you’re surprised by Jake’s eagerness. His mouth presses against yours with a gentle firmness, as though not to hurt you but at the same time, enough to convey just how badly he’s wanted this. His mouth is warm against yours, the glossy sheen of saliva over his bottom lip slippery and inviting as his kisses become more open-mouthed.
Jake kisses you for so long you wonder how he can even breathe — even for you, it feels breathless. When he pulls away, you pinpoint the slight spasm in his chest, the tight veins in his neck as he fights his impulses. With a small laugh, you push the mask around his neck up to his lips and force him to capture his breath, occupying your lips elsewhere in the meantime.
Trailing your mouth across his cheek and jaw, it’s as though Jake is gulping down as much CO2 as he can manage to keep stored inside of him to go a little longer. Eventually, his chest rises and falls evenly while you gently smooch the expanse of skin under his jaw, catching the soft scent of whatever powders and paints he may have been decorated with earlier in the night. 
The mask falls back down past his collar and he shifts; Jake’s hand pulls at your face, his thumb on one cheek and fingers on the other as he guides your mouth back to his, wasting no time in getting back to whatever he was doing before his lungs so rudely interrupted him. 
If he had to die losing breath while kissing you, then it would be a suitable way for him to go.
“Okay,” he breathes, pulling away for a brief second before planting a wet kiss back on the pucker of your lips. You can taste the honey from the alcohol he’s been drinking all night in your mouth. “Up and out.”
With that, Jake lifts you up by your waist and ungraciously tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Then, with his back hunched slightly, he moves with familiarity through the metal corridors of the lab, navigating his way to the bunks. 
Even like this, you feel so high off the ground, and you squeal with surprise and fist at nothing behind his back. He’d never let you fall, not that the landing would damage you in any physical way except for your pride, but still, you stare at the moving metal beneath his feet in a blur, half excited and half full of nerves.
The floor plan opens up to the bunk chamber, the familiar worn woven rug that Grace had been given from the villagers and had put on the floor appearing in view. You know confidently that there will be as little room back here as there was in the workspace at the front; the bunks are bolted to the wall but barely big enough for human bodies, let alone avatars, but Jake already has a solution.
He sets you down, his hands already working to pull your shirt up and over the top of your head. Not that he has to work very hard at all — you’re already helping him undress you, pulling the shirt up over your head, marvelling at the wide-eyed look of excitement on Jake’s face.
“Missed these,” he says, carelessly tossing your shirt to the bunks off at the side. He wastes no time in moving closer to you, his mouth attaching itself to the curve of your breasts, his tail flicking happily at your noisy approval. 
With Jake mouthing around your nipple, the taunting graze of his teeth making you shudder, you let your body float into an astral plane of goodness and close your eyes, your head lulling to the side.
His eyes flicker up, greedily memorising every lift and twitch on your face until he catches sight of your hands sliding down your sides from his arms, fingers inching towards your little blue panties. He grins, tongue flat against your nipple, and after pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of where he’s been sucking, Jake breaks away and harmlessly slaps his hands over yours, holding them in place as you hook your fingers under the panty fabric.
“It’s like you’re doing this to me on purpose,” he groans, lips pressing kisses all across and down your body as his mouth makes its way to the smooth skin of your tummy. Jake rubs his thumbs in circles on your lower stomach, eyes finding yours. 
“Doing what?”
“Being so fucking sexy,” mutters Jake, his tongue licking like a lion against your naval. The feeling makes you squirm and laugh slightly, your hands flying up from the clasp of his hands to the sides of his head. 
There had been the expectation that perhaps human Jake would roll himself towards you once he got back, excited and turned on by your uncharacteristic lack of clothing. Instead, it had been avatar Jake who found you first, but it’s not as though your efforts have exactly gone to waste. If anything, they are met with the highest amount of appreciation.
Jake tugs the top of your panties with his teeth, moving them off your skin and down until he can see the sloping curve of your pubis, until he can smell the lust between your folds. Stopping him from stripping you bare is the last thing you want, but still, you look down at him playfully.
“Do you really need to take all my clothes off, Sully?” you ask, feeling his teeth graze on your skin as he unwillingly releases your panties from his mouth.
“Yes,” he replies, like it was obvious. Why would he want you to stand there in your panties all night when there were more fun things to do?
“Well, what about you?” Your hands slowly trail down from his face to his broad shoulders, fingers ghosting across the darker lines etched into his skin. Jake shudders slightly, his ears pricked tall, and they twitch in amusement when you point out the same thing he did when he bent you down over the rock.
“One of us is halfway there, and it’s not you.”
Between his legs, same as always, hangs his tewng, perfectly and teasingly in place of the large growth hiding beneath, and your eyes glance at them pointedly. Your gaze lingers there until Jake takes the hint, his smile turning lop-sided as he sniggers and reluctantly pulls away from you.
“As you wish,” he croons, his hands swiftly shifting to the flimsy little string that he so courageously entrusts to hold his tewng together. Full of anticipation, you roll back on the heels of your feet as the knot undoes behind his back, and the strings cascade down as the fabric loosens and pools to the floor in a puddle.
Jake's cheeks are aching with how much he’s smiling. Any cool composure he wanted to pretend he had is betrayed by the smile that has taken up permanent residence on his face, the enthusiastic swish of his tail beating against his back and the floor behind him. 
With your eyes still trained on the stiff arousal between Jake’s legs, you bite your bottom lip in an effort to restrain yourself and smooth your hands over the weaved sheath fastened over his chest.
“Miss me?” Jake asks, eyes pinned to yours as you peel back the sheath and gently set his blade and armour to the side. Now, the only things on Jake’s body are your hands and the bands around his arms, tightly outlining both his muscles and pudges of blue skin.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
“I know you did,” he continues anyway, pressing a swift kiss to your stomach and hooking his fingers back through your panties. He appreciates the blue more than he’d care to admit — you probably didn’t do it on purpose, picking blue when it's the very colour of his existence, but it’s a nice touch despite that. “Can smell you.” 
Jake twists the fabric around his finger like a ringlet and drags the panties down your legs, and once they’re bunched down by your ankles, he takes a deep inhale and secures his gaze between your legs, his chest rising and falling.
His hands instantly shift to your thighs, holding them as he gently, yet forcefully, widens your feet apart. Your pussy parts with the movement, the wet smell filling Jake’s nose like a drug. Behind him, his tail thumps against one of the stack of black storage boxes, and he groans with pleasure.
“Fucking perfect,” he says, a thumb moving to swipe up the partition of your pussy. The familiar feeling of it swiping makes you tense up, hands tightening around Jake’s shoulders. “My perfect girl.” 
With another kiss planted against your naval, Jake pulls you closer to him, mumbling under his breath and against your skin a string of words you can barely hear.
He saves himself the unflattering carpet burn from shimmying across Grace’s rug and picks himself up, one hand on the floor and his other arm and hand keeping you flush against him while he adjusts himself on the ground. 
Once he’s lying flat on the floor on his back, he grins up at you and guides you over him, gaze flashing to the approaching pussy he wants nothing more than to shove his face into.
“Come’ere,” he says quietly, tapping a finger against his chin while trying to bring you closer with his other hand. It would be very easy for Jake to just pull you forward — you’re not a weak human being, but you still have nothing on his Na’vi strength, and you know this. 
You slowly step towards him, your feet on either side of his body, a warm flush engulfing you as you stare down in amazement at the eagerness of Jake’s expression, the giddy movements of his body. He can barely stay still.
“You…want me to sit on your face?”
“Clearly.”
Though you’re already straddling him, hands trembling, you ask, “What if you suffocate and die?”
At that, Jake laughs, sliding his hands up the length of your legs and pushing down slightly, until your knees buckle and you’re all but hovering over his lips, feeling the chuckles of laughter brush against your bare skin.
“It’s the only way I’d wanna go,” he tells you. “A true warrior’s death.”
You scoff, anxiously positioning above him. “How would I explain that to Grace?”
“With pride, hopefully,” and then he helps bring you down until you're comfortably positioned over his mouth, his tongue flat against you, your own mouth suddenly falling into a circular shape of pleasure.
“Oh!” you gasp. Although Jake has been between your legs before, it hadn’t felt like this. The refined, little, rough ridges of Jake’s tongue brush against you; his tongue feels like a cats in texture, prone and wet as you slowly grind across it, Jake’s hands back around your body though he barely even moves you. 
Almost as soon as you take a seat on his tongue, Jake groans again, the satisfied sound grumbling from his throat and against your cunt. In all of his attempts to relive the memory of being between your legs, Jake forgot how good you tasted.
Around your waist, his hands tighten before adjusting themselves to help move you against his mouth, his tongue curling up once you’re coated in your own juice and his saliva. 
There is a slight ringing in your ears that you’re thankful for, but the sound of Jake against your pussy is no doubt erotic, making Jake’s body twitch and his cock harden uncomfortably up against his stomach.
You’re cautious with putting all of your weight on Jake’s head, still lifting up instinctively off his mouth as he runs his tongue across your pussy, prodding the top against your hole and gorging himself on your taste.
The feeling of his mouth so firm against you is intense compared to the other night, where Jake had all but pinned you down with his arm and had his way. He seems to grow fed up with your caution and his hands tighten around you, bringing you down to rest your weight entirely on his face. He groans, arms and hands locked in place, his ears smushed by your knees.
“Fuck,” he grumbles, his baritone voice vibrating against you. You moan at that, your hands coming to fist at the pretty beads hanging down by his face. If the tug hurts, he doesn’t show it; Jake only moves you harder against his mouth, his eyes tightly closed in pleasure until they all of a sudden burst open, his golden irises boring up into your face as you stare back.
You watch his eyes flickering from side to side, memorising every pull and tug against your features as you grind yourself on his mouth. His tongue is hot against you, his hands curling around your thighs possessively to hold you in place. 
Now that the feeling of him plush against your pussy is more familiar, you chase his tongue, moving against him until he’s prodding exactly where you need him the most. 
Jake’s mouth shifts, his tongue flicking against your clit while his hand slides from your thigh to the gap between your legs. One of his fingers stirs up the slicky wetness residing between your folds before slowly pushing up, slipping past the clenching resistance of your hole. Without meaning to, you smack your hips down on Jake’s face, feeling his finger sink up to the knuckle inside of you as a low grunt sounds from his throat. 
You’re somewhat relieved that Jake is in his avatar and can withstand the full weight of your body throttling him, but he almost seems to relish in the feeling, a second finger wiggling its way past your folds and up your snatch with the other. The thick widening of his fingers makes you gasp, toes curling, and one of your hands releases his hair and grips at the stack of boxes behind Jake’s head.
“Mmf—fuck, Jake,” you rasp, voice broken and high and whiney. A shaky exhale catches in your throat as his fingers fuck inside of you, and your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they rise and fall over his hand like his fingers were his cock — you’re bouncing slowly on them while he smirks to himself, tongue flicking over your swollen clit, mouth and chin smothered in saliva and juice.
“You likin’ that, honey?” he asks, planting a sloppy kiss on your thighs as he curls his fingers inside of you. “Feel good?”
“Uh huh,” you whine. At this point, you cannot bring yourself to look at him and all of his smugness. You feel his smile widen against your thigh as he nips at the skin, licking a stripe before turning his mouth back to your pussy. 
“God… Jake, oh my—” You don’t finish that sentence, don’t even get the chance to.
It is embarrassing how close to an orgasm you feel. Jake’s barely begun, barely spent any time at all between your thighs and yet you can feel your body seizing, a small ball of warmth expanding inside of you. Jake’s eyes are still glued to you and the arched view of your body over his face, and you can practically feel his gaze burning into you, willing you to look back at him.
“You gonna cum up there, baby girl?” mumbles Jake, his voice muffled by your pussy. If it weren’t for the vibrations his voice sends up your pussy making you aware of his question, you might have missed it over the sound of your moaning and whimpering.
His fingers prod at the spongey insides of your pussy, one prod in particular making your hips buck furiously across his mouth.
Jake makes a noise of happy surprise, and like the smug asshole he is, he repeats the action, fucking his finger into the spot that makes you wriggle on top of him. The unravelling warmth inside of you is spreading; you can barely feel your toes, your thighs shaking around him.
“Jesus, Spelly,” he chuckles, his erection so hard and uncomfortable by his belly button that he grumbles to himself. That needs to be attended to immediately, if you weren’t so stubborn as to drag out the orgasm you so obviously want to have. 
Jake moves his fingers faster inside of you, the other hand that’s around your thigh snaking to your hips to sink you down harder against him. You feel his knuckles at your entrance, his tongue pausing lazily at your clit.
“I—” you gasp, voice catching with surprise. Then, to his amazement, you frantically look down at him with a wide-eyed look of desperation. “Can I—?”
“Yep,” he grunts, greedily holding you firmly against his mouth as your hips rut like an animal. After a humiliatingly small amount of time, you feel your entire body tense with a blistering heat, and when you cum onto Jake’s tongue, it is the sweetest relief.
The burst of sweet white fluid that drips into Jake’s mouth is taken with desperation. Jake’s tongue coaxes it all out of you, his voiced approval rumbling into your pussy as he drinks it up. Meanwhile, your head is positively spinning, your vision white and starry and limbs numbed. You can barely catch your breath, and you have no idea how Jake is still alive down there, the mask around his neck virtually forgotten. 
When Jake has finally milked all that he can from your cunt, he gently pushes you up and off his mouth, your whole lower body trembling like a rabid dog as he shifts you down onto his chest. Your cunt is fluttering with the absence of his tongue and fingers, the heartbeat between your legs pulsing intensely as you stare down at Jake’s face.
You’ve never seen a man more content with a mouthful of your cum before. A sheen of white coats his tongue as he laughs breathlessly, his pupils wide. Then, as though he’s only just remembered that he needs to breathe, Jake fumbles for his mask and pulls it up over his face, gulping down the CO2 whilst simultaneously trying to compose himself. 
“My god,” he splutters, his chest rumbling beneath you as he laughs again. You feel sticky all over. “I love this pussy, Spellman.”
The compliment tears a laugh from your throat. “Gee, thanks.”
Laughter fills the space between you for a moment, but when you look at Jake he’s looking up at the ceiling, his mouth parted and his breaths heavy, the mask still in his hand by his chin. Now that he’s gone quiet in an effort to catch his breath, you come to the abrupt realisation that you’re in the lab, in the bunk chamber, sitting naked on Jake’s chest after cumming in his mouth. 
It feels hilarious all of a sudden, though you don’t voice the amused vision in your mind. Jake seems content doing whatever he’s doing, a dazed look on his face, and for a moment, you sit there until your thighs clench and the sticky cum between your thighs begins to dry, and then you slowly heave yourself up off him.
Lifting his head up off the floor, Jake startles and looks at you in confusion. “What’re you doing?”
“Getting up,” you wince as you move, but Jake’s frown deepens. He lets the mask fall by the side of his neck, his hands speedily rushing to your waist to lock you in place. 
“What? No, no, no, no, we’re not done yet,” Jake blurts, his brows high and eyes wide. 
“More?” you ask, surprised.
“Obviously,” he splutters, bemused. “Don’t be so selfish, I’ve been missing you like crazy out there.” 
You fall down the length of his body as Jake sits up, your pussy brushing past the hard tip of his cock. You gnaw at your lip bashfully — okay, maybe you had somehow forgotten about that. 
His cock sits between your bodies, the thick and tense figure of it flat against your stomach as Jake leans his face towards yours with a disgraced look of unhappiness.
“You thought you were gonna cum and then just get off?”
“At least let me catch my breath,” you laugh helplessly.
“You’ll live,” he tuts. “Goddamn. Definitely Norm’s sister, you’re cold.”
Hearing the childish whine in his voice makes you laugh out loud, though his look of unhappiness softens when you smile at him, stroking the side of his face.
“Aw, come on, big guy, you don't mean that,” you try, pushing yourself up against the tight wedge between your bodies. He flinches slightly, the crease between his brows lifting with intrigue. Try all he wants, but he soon gives up on looking displeased and grins back at you. 
“You don’t even have to do anything,” Jake suggests thoughtfully, his face tilted as he tries to entice you. 
In all honesty, you have no protests against fucking Jake. In fact, the thought of his cock being buried in your stomach again is nothing short of a need for you. He’s not the only one who’s been thinking about it all this time — it’s not a competition, but you’ve been daydreaming about the cock between his legs a lot longer than he’s been thinking about you.
“All you’d need to do is sit on it, really.” You tune back into Jake’s voice. You don’t know how much you missed, but the message is abundantly clear.
You smooth your hands down his neck, fiddling with the beaded choker. “I don’t think it can fit in today.”
Jake barks out a laugh. “Please. It fit fine before, princess.”
“Yeah, before you destroyed my vagina permanently. I’ll be too tight!”
That only makes Jake look more pleading. “That’s a good thing!”
“Jake, I—”
“Fine, then just the tip,” he tries, surging forward and pressing a desperate kiss to your lips. You taste the tangy sweetness of your cunt that Jake loves so much on his lips; seeing him so desperate for you to sit on his cock would be funny if it weren’t so sexy.
You bite your lip in thought as he peppers a string of kisses across your face, as if trying to persuade you.
“You only have to take the tip, that’s all. You’re dripping, you’ll take it no problem, but you don’t even have to work or do anything. I’ll do everything.”
“You’re begging,” you state flatly.
“I know,” he drawls in a whine that makes you roll your eyes. “But you’re my woman and I need this pussy like a fucking flower needs water.”
“According to Norm’s research,” you start, reaching for the tip of his cock with a hidden smile, “rainwater and Pandora plants are—”
“Fuck,” Jake laughs into your mouth, his teeth bared in a grin as he kisses you between his words, “off. You’re so annoying.” Another kiss, though his heart soars when your body rises slightly off his thighs, “Always yappin'.” His tail thrums excitedly behind him as you position yourself over his cock, brows knitted together. “Always going on and on about something.”
“You want me to sit on it or not?” you ask bluntly, but your half hearted attempt at sternness is seen through immediately.
“Hell yeah, mama,” he quips, hands already busy on your hips as he tries to sink you down on his cock. 
You stifle a laugh at his eagerness. Who would have guessed that Jake would be begging you to let him fuck you? Two days ago, it would have been hard to imagine.
“Shut up then,” you mutter, but he graciously says very little besides his own personal vocabulary of vulgar words when the tip of his cock pushes into you. 
It goes in so easily that you know Jake is trying his absolute hardest to remain true to his word. Your pussy lets him in with virtually no refusal, swallowing the tip of his cock so flawlessly that he physically tenses, his hands tightening around you as he lifts you up and down on the tip, being ever so careful as to not accidentally sink you all the way down to the base.
Even just the tip of his dick elicits such a primal response from your throat, your eyes blown open. Jake’s barely given you breathing room since your last orgasm, and the overstimulating feeling of his cockhead loyally spearing inside of you is mind-blowing. 
He grunts desperately against your mouth, eyes closed as he tries to reign in his deepest impulses. You press a kiss to his lips; you know how hard it is for him to hold himself back. It is as though your body is remembering who he is, how his cock felt deep inside of you, and when you next feel Jake’s hands lifting you up off the tip and sinking you back down, his eyes immediately blow open when he feels you clench around him like a fist.
“I—shit,” he blurts, momentarily letting go as you sink back down on his cock, the tip of it pushing deeper inside of you as more of his cock pistons inside. He looks apologetic for a moment, because he didn’t mean for you to take more than the tip when that was all he had promised, but after hearing the strangled and high-pitched moan that escapes your lips, he rides his hope for a moment and curls his arms around your body, moulding his mouth against yours.
“Goddamn,” Jake whispers, catching every gasp and breath you take and give. “That’s right, beautiful, you can do it.”
Whimpering, your trembling hands come to hold his waist while he lounges back, his back leaning trustingly against the stack of crates under the window, his hands remaining firm around your body. Jake watches in anticipation as you drag yourself up off his cock, leaving behind a shining trail of juice down the deep blue of his length. 
While you’re up there, Jake takes a quick gulp of CO2 — the sound of him taking a deep breath as he contents himself with watching you makes your heartbeat quicken, although you’re much more focused on sliding your pussy across his tip, the roundness of it slipping up your slit while a litany of moans produce from your mouth.
And then, by happy surprise, Jake realises he doesn’t have to fight it anymore when you go to slowly sink back down on him and slip, half of his dick disappearing up your cunt with almost no resistance whatsoever, and the breathless gasp that fills his ears is nothing short of sinful.
“Fuck yeah,” he moans, sitting up restlessly with his lips on your mouth again, as his hands complete his desire of sinking his cock deeper up your pussy. You whimper into him, the dull ache in your stomach intensifying when you feel his dick spearing up into your cunt, his hips rutting underneath you. 
He did his best, but he can’t hold back anymore. The sight of you swallowing up his cock is the very picture of perfection. 
It was one thing seeing you with your legs spread on that rock. It’s another thing entirely to have you around his dick like a flesh-light.
“You said just the tip,” you whimper.
“You slipped, I didn’t make you take more of it.”
“I—” You groan as his hand grips around your waist like you’re just a doll. “God, you’re so big.”
“Yeah,” he sniggers, lips still against yours like he’s glued there. “But look how well you take me.”
Your attempts to make him feel bad are pathetically wasted; you’re drenched, your wetness like a lube to Jake as he pistons his hips upwards. The squelch between you is embarrassingly loud, although to Jake it is the most heavenly sound in the world. 
He grunts into your mouth, softly whispering encouraging yes’ into every word you attempt to speak but fail at saying.
“A perfect fit,” Jake mumbles, his tongue flicking past your lips with a gasping grunt, “’s'like I was made for you.”
There’s nothing you can say to that, nothing coherent at least. In your best effort to please Jake, you suck in a deep breath and lift, only to bottom out and sink to the base of his cock. It feels like Jake’s buried near your lungs; he’s so deep, much deeper than he felt at the rock. 
Jake shifts back against the boxes stacked behind him. Then, he gracefully lifts his hips, shoving more of himself up there until he can see the dent of his dick in your tummy. He groans appreciatively, eyes darting back to your face after marvelling at the size of him buried inside of you.
“You’re so good,” he mutters, his breath kind of shaky as he takes in the image of you, looking all spent on his cock. He picks up on the struggling shake of your legs and feels your cunt tighten around him. “Lemme fuck you nice, mama.”
The speed at which you go limp on his cock tells him you have no protests. Jake secures his wide hands around your waist and tightens, focusing all of his energy into his arms as he lifts you up his cock and slams you back down. Both of you moan at the same time, and the clear image of you fucked out and exhausted in his lap makes his dick twitch inside of you.
A heat simmers between your legs — Jake has reduced you to a hole to fuck and you can’t even be bothered to move anymore. You can trust that your body will make room for him, and you can trust that Jake will be careful as he has his way with you. With that in mind, you relax like putty in his hands, shapeless as he fucks into you.
For a while, Jake says nothing of significance. It is as though he is buffering or on a loop, entirely focused on jerking you on his dick, his pupils blown black and wide as he zones out on the sweat lining your chest, the soft rise and fall of your tits as you bounce on his crotch. You watch him the whole time, eyes half-lidded and glazed but unmoving; he is a man in Heaven, in his greatest element. 
There is nowhere he would rather be than here, and there is nothing you’d rather be doing than giving your body up for the man you have become completely enamoured with.
One particular thrust inside of you makes you cry out unexpectedly, and his eyes flicker back up to find yours. His dick punches back up to where he last found himself, desperately searching for the spot that made you cry out, and when he finds it, a lazy smirk lifts on his lips.
“You’re a dream.”
Your mouth opens, and another blubbery cry falls out without you thinking: “Yes…m'yours, Jake..."
Not exactly what he said, but his chest swells with pride regardless.
“Damn straight,” he grunts, flicking his hips roughly. You choke a noise of surprise, feeling the coil of pleasure tighten in your belly right as Jake for some reason begins to move. He picks himself up off the rug and lifts you, spinning until he finds a surface he can set you down on. The first thing he finds is the little desk near the door, and he clears it with a sweep of his arm and wraps his arms around you tightly.
The cool metallic surface makes you shudder, although, with the way he spears himself back inside of you, the warmth quickly returns to consume your body. Jake bows his chest over you, fucking himself between your legs and watching with fascination at his cock disappearing past your folds. It looks the same as it did last time, to his delight, and he sucks in a hiss of breath, reaching for the mask again.
“Mmm, Jake, I really can’t anymore,” you rasp out, wrapping your legs desperately around his waist and clinging to the round shape of his biceps. He groans loudly once the mask falls back down from his face, his lips curling to a pout.
“You can’t cum yet,” he protests dumbly.
“Jake,” you say again, already feeling your orgasm threatening to spill. His eyes flash with worry, though you can’t imagine what he might have to be worried about. “I need to—”
“Please,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek quickly, his voice a mumble against your skin as he says, “just a bit longer.”
You whimper right into Jake’s ear, his hips staggering into you for a second. More than anything, you want to find your release, to give up and let go and take a breather, but the desperation to make Jake happy finds itself taking precedence. 
In your heart, you know that Jake is currently on cloud nine, overjoyed just with fucking you like this — if you came right now, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. More than likely, he’d just carry on. Still, you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth and your whole cunt clenches tightly around him, which he takes as a silent order to keep going, and he receives the message loud and clear.
Now, he is a man on a mission — see how long you can go until you cum all over him.
Jake would happily spend all night between your legs, fucking the hole he’s stamped his name on, filling you up with so much cum you’d be finding it for days. Something chemical has happened to him since acting on his greatest desires; he dreads to think what he’d be doing, how he’d be feeling if he hadn’t been inspired by Norm’s hatred. 
To think that he’d be at his party in the village, maybe being swarmed by curious Omatikaya women with fascinations for their newest clan member, potentially even trying to redirect the feelings he has elsewhere… 
No. He schools the thoughts into silence. Why fret over the what-ifs when the present is the most perfect thing in the universe?
Jake drives his hips forward, shifting his lips from your cheek to your mouth and accepting the breathless kiss you eagerly give him. Your arms slacken; you keep one hand poised loyally on his bicep while the other reaches for the side of his face, fisting around one of the dishevelled braids to the side of his head. The burn of you tugging on them is barely even noticeable, or if it is, he doesn’t show it. Jake just presses his mouth against yours with a profound laziness, his hips slowing as he thrusts into you at a comfortable pace.
A part of you bursts open; as Jake pounds into your pussy in an uncharacteristically slow manner, he kisses you each time his cock burrows back inside. Your face is unbelievably hot as one of his thick arms curves around your back and appears by the side of your head, hand cradling your face. He has you pinned in place, yet with such little force that it would be easy for you to slither free if you wanted.
You want nothing less. Not when Jake is kissing you like it’s his favourite thing in the world to do. Not when your body is so numb and warm you can barely even feel your legs anymore. Not when the man you would do anything for is right where he belongs — up your snatch, on your mouth, smiling between each kiss.
His tail swirls from side to side slowly, content as he listens to the wet sound of your mouth against his own, the squelch of your drenched pussy filling his ears as they prick to hear himself sinking inside of you. Jesus fuck, you’re so wet — if it wasn’t making you so turned on at the thought of Jake being over the moon from the sound of it, then you’d be squirming in embarrassment.
Jake grins into your mouth, sniggering as the soaking sloppy sounds grow more pronounced. Knowing that he’s grinning because of that, and because he knows he’s the cause of it, your bottom lip curls into a pathetic whimper.
“Hear that?” It’s obvious that you can, he knows that. 
How he wishes you could smell it the way that he can — the smell of the sticky mess between both of your legs is nothing short of incredible; it's so sweet that when he inhales he almost shudders. You wouldn’t even need heightened Na’vi senses to smell the sex in the air, to smell Jake on your skin, to smell you over Jake’s face and body. 
A witty reply is on the tip of your tongue, but as Jake kisses you again, slobber around his mouth and yours, you can no longer fight the bubbling pleasure in your abdomen, the pressure that gets heavier the longer you hold out. 
Jake takes a sharp intake of breath, as if he can smell the distinct change in your body, the orgasm lapping over itself like a tidal wave until it breaches the surface — but his thrusting does not cease, not even when your entire body shakes beneath him, legs falling limp around his waist. And not even when he feels a wet warmth burst up over his chest, a horrified yet pleasured squeal ripping from your mouth as he glances down and sees your gushing release, the billows of cum pushing past the tight fit of his cock, and a shiny layer of juice on his chest.
He blinks in surprise, his eyes wide, and when his nose fills with the smell of you, the smell of your squirt over his torso, he laughs unexpectedly and lifts his head with the widest grin you’ve seen.
"Shit,” he laughs in disbelief, kissing away the aghast gape on your face. 
Even as he chuckles into you, you feel your face burning with embarrassment. It’s one thing to cum on Jake’s cock. It’s another thing to squirt on him. It’s an entirely different thing for Jake to find it hilariously sexy.
“I’m so sorry!” you blurt, hands immediately cupping Jake’s face. His nose furrows as his face twists, both in amusement and confusion.
“Why’re you saying sorry?” he asks, still trying to reign in his disbelieving laughs. It’s been a hot second since he made anyone squirt that hard, no less squirt down his chest. 
“I didn’t mean to do that,” you explain breathlessly. You barely even register the fact that Jake’s still thrusting into you until the numbness of your body subsides and each thrust upwards is met with a cry of overstimulated pleasure. “I’ve never done that, I—”
“You’re incredible,” Jake grins affectionately. You’re incredible.
Jake thinks he could go on for hours. He could go on until daybreak, until he heard the whirs of Trudy’s Samson over the top of the lab; he would continue fucking you until Norm stepped inside, until he found you both back here. But when you stare at him exhaustedly and smile back, his heart lurches out of his chest and changes his mind for him.
You feel Jake’s dick twitch inside of you, the feeling making you jolt slightly as he thrusts in a few more times, as if milking every last inch of your pussy until he’s forced to withdraw, and then he staggers forward, moaning loudly with a tight and sharp hiss, and a familiar warmth spurts in your stomach.
Jake’s back is bent over, his chest bowed over yours as he shudders through his orgasm; the unmistakable warmth of his cum pools in your stomach, ropes of it filling you up until it slips down past your quivering hole to the table beneath your ass and back. He groans a few times, fumbling for the mask before pressing it to his mouth. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. You could very well be floating up off the table for all you knew. 
Peering down at the sight of his hard dick still snuggled in your cunt, you watch the thick trails of his cum squeezing out of you. You kiss his temple while his head is still hanging low and mutter, “Fill me up, big guy.”
Jake moans, lips sealed closed — actually, it sounds more like a sob. “Jesus.”
“Give it to me,” you continue, murmuring the words against his head. Hey, you’re feeling much bolder now that he’s exhausted himself and you don’t have to worry about having another orgasm denied and then ripped out of you. 
Jake chuckles breathlessly, all of the breath back in his lungs now that he’s emptied himself inside of you. “Didn’t you say you were glad humans couldn’t get knocked up by Na’vi?”
“No? When?”
He scoffs, eyes lifting to yours as he levels you with a challenging look. “Oh, so you want that? Want me to breed you like a dog, Spellman? Fill you up, watch that tummy grow?”
The revelation of Jake’s unexpected breeding kink makes you laugh. Once, Jake had told the lab that he didn’t know if he wanted kids — didn’t think he’d be a good father, didn’t think he’d be able to cope with the pressure of it. Perhaps it’s his Na’vi instincts calling out in a tune, making him besotted with the idea, but either way, you grin at him playfully and press a kiss to his mouth. 
“Nah,” you assure him. His smile neither fades nor grows, thank goodness. “I’m in no rush for any of that, Sully.”
He sniggers, then. “Me too,” and after a quick kiss he slowly heaves himself out of you, watching your jaw slacken as he slides out with a sickeningly loud pop. “It’s fucking sexy to say it, though.”
Suddenly, as if he forgot for a moment, Jake’s head cranes to your cunt and as his cum swells near your hole, he grins and watches it as it threatens to drool out. When it does, down your ass cheek and onto the surface of the table, his tail thrashes in joy and his fangs glint in the light. 
“Yummy,” he says, swiping his thumb across the little puddle of your cum and his and he sucks his lips around it, the little smack of his lips as he pulls it away making your thighs clamp together. “You taste good, honey.”
“It’s more you than me.”
Jake rises, his back still bent due to the low ceiling of the lab, but even now he’s looming over you, his hands reaching to help pull you up from your uncomfortable position to sit upright. You lift with a comically dramatic groan, and Jake rolls his eyes as you hunch forward, hands massaging your thighs sorely.
“I’m broken again,” you mumble, feeling the burn in your muscles as Jake takes himself to where his bunk is and fetches a towel from one of his storage boxes. By the time he gets back, the puddle of cum between your legs has doubled in size. 
“You’ll manage,” Jake tells you affectionately, laying the towel flat in his best attempt to milk up the cum still pulsing out of you. He looks at the towel with a cringe — he can only hope the smell and colour will come out in the laundry.
After Jake’s done his best to clean you up, he takes himself to the laundry shoot and tosses the towel inside, making his way back to you quickly before you can stand up and stalk off somewhere. 
“I brought you something, actually,” he tells you, suddenly thinking back to the gift he has strapped to his ikran’s leathers outside. 
You hum vaguely. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. Neytiri helped me think of it before I got here. Just something quick and silly, but you’re gonna—”
“Oh, yeah,” you interrupt, reminded of how Jake ended up here in the first place. “Are you sure it was a good idea telling Neytiri that you already had a woman?”
Jake pauses. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing like that. Just that… Well, won’t she say something to the other villagers?” you think aloud. It had been on your mind in passing when Jake first told you when he’d arrived, but now that it’s back in your head, you can see Jake processing the thought before dropping to his haunches in a valiant effort to see you evenly. 
“She’s close with the village, that’s all,” you continue. “And with Grace, I imagine.”
He blinks dumbly. “Oh yeah.”
For a second, nothing is said. How could Jake have not thought of that?
Realistically, you know that Jake was just excited to tell someone that he had a woman in his life — you hadn’t been presumptuous enough to believe that Jake couldn’t find someone even if he hadn’t acted on his impulses a few nights ago, but even now that you know he meant you after all, you can’t help but think of all the ways it may come back to bite you in the ass.
“I mean,” Jake says slowly, tail flicking, “I was hoping we’d tell people eventually. I don’t wanna hide with you forever.”
“Wait, you want to tell people?”
He looks at you with a funny look of bemusement. “Obviously.”
“About us fucking?”
“What? Well, I mean, yes, in a sense, but more like that we’re together.”
“…Are we?”
“I thought you were the smart one.”
“I’m just… You wanna be with me?” you ask. You’re almost certain that you look and sound stupid, based on the way Jake is staring at you with a wild look of alarm, but, can he blame you? You were just about getting around Jake wanting to sleep with you — now, he’s basically asking you out.
Jake splutters out a nervous laugh. “Was that seriously not obvious?”
You don’t allow him to feel nervous as you reach for his arms in reassurance. The feeling of your hands around his wrists calms him almost immediately. 
“If you want to be my man, Jake Sully, there are requirements to meet.” His brows curve curiously, though the sloping smile on his face reappears, to your relief. “I will also need to speak with human Jake Sully about this development. This relationship goes three ways, as you know.”
“Fair enough,” he says, doing his best not to laugh at how cute he thinks you are. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy for you to just forget all about him, though.”
“Never gonna happen,” you stress to him. “And I need quality time with you. If we fuck all the time, I’m scared my vagina will actually break beyond repair. You have two bodies to please me with, I’ve only got the one. You have to go easy on me.”
“Noted,” he nods. It’s sweet how seriously he’s taking all of this. 
“And, last but not least…” You trail off and reach forward to kiss his lips again. Jake’s eyes flutter closed — his lips are still slightly tingly from kissing you stupid. You pull away all too quickly for his liking, and when he opens his eyes to look for you, his entire face softens affectionately. “We need to do something about Norm.”
Sighing dramatically, Jake weighs the very difficult options in his head. 
Become his woman by spending more time with you? Easy. Consider it already done. But kill all the fun and tell Norm before he figures it out the hard way? Jake’s lips curl into a scowl at the thought of such a marvellous opportunity going wasted.
“How about…we do all of that and let Norm find out by himself?” Jake suggests. It’s an even trade — you’ll both get what you want, and you’ll both feel scores of satisfaction at the end of it.
When you don’t say anything for a moment, Jake is prepared to sign his defeat and give in, but then, when you grin at him and shrug, he hears the holy gates of Heaven open up in his favour and the angels sing.
Yep. You’re his. He’s yours. 
Now he just can’t wait for everyone else to find out about it.
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erwinsvow · 2 months
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part two of this
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you’re still wondering how you ended up like this—rafe’s arm around your shoulder, a cup of water in your hand because he’d decided for you that you’d had enough alcohol tonight, standing in a big circle with his friends. you knew bits and pieces about rafe, some comments your now ex-boyfriend would make in passing—always bad things—and the fact that he was a regular at these parties for more than one reason. but standing next to rafe, with him acting like you belong to him, was something you could have never expected. 
his friends look at you a little curiously, but they’re still nice. rafe stares down anyone who he catches looking at your low hemline or exposed chest. he’s making his rounds to sell yayo, and you accompany him, still just tipsy enough to have lowered your inhibitions and not catch on to the mean way some of the girls look at you.
“wha’s yayo?” you question, looking up at rafe again, like you’ve been doing all night. he’s undeniably handsome, but it seems even more so when he’s being so nice to you like this.
“nothin’ you need to know about, kid,” is all he says in response, guiding your water cup to your mouth again and tipping it back a little so you drink. a little bit spills down the side of your mouth and he wipes it away with his thumb. 
“can i try some?” he laughs, handing over another tiny bag to a boy with a handshake and pocketing the money, and then guides you away, so it’s just the two of you.
“not yet.” you let out a whine—it must be fun if everyone at the bonfire is chasing him around for some.
“why not?”
“‘cause cheap beer is too much for you. now stop askin’ and help me find this stupid boyfriend of yours.”
“ex-boyfriend,” you correct, immediately. rafe looks pleased when you say that, making you smile even wider, if not a little dopey.
“excuse me, that’s right. ex-boyfriend. where's he at?” 
you don’t actually care about finding him anymore—you’re having a lot of fun with rafe like this. but you get into your head a little bit, thinking rafe is only doing this to make him jealous, and then he’ll leave to spend time with some other girl. you hold on a little tighter to his arm, looking up with another pout.
“maybe this way,” you say, guiding him in the exact opposite direction of where your ex was last. “maybe those people want the yayo. they seem friendly.” rafe laughs again, which makes you beam. he does sell to the partygoers you pointed out to him, they open the little baggie and start snorting right infront of him—and you. you watch intently, and when they ask rafe if he wants a bump, he refuses.
“not today. gotta stay sharp for my girl.” 
you’re starting to think you don’t need any drugs, if something as simple as rafe calling you his girl makes you feel so deliriously happy. you’re buzzing from your own personal high until you hear a voice call your name, and you don’t turn until rafe does, the arm around your shoulder gravitating down to your waist, holding on tightly. 
the beer and rafe and everything else in the air still has you pretty hazy—you don’t hear anything other than your ex asking you what the hell you’re doing, and rafe answering for you. it doesn’t take long for him to notice the little baggies of white powder on the table behind you two, the possessive way rafe keeps his hands on you, and the fact that rafe looks as angry as anyone’s ever seen him, before they break out in punches and curse words. 
you’re drunk enough to want to help rafe, but one of his friends holds you back, tells you to leave it and that rafe will win anyways. you watch him throw punches at your ex but the second he takes a punch, you can’t watch anymore. 
rafe does win, in the end. your ex gets dragged away by his friends, and you’re sure there’s red everywhere. when rafe finds you again, he spits out some blood and wipes his mouth. you stare at him afraid and unsure, thinking that you’re the last person he wants to see now, the one that got him into a fist-fight. you bite your cheek, playing with your hands and staring down at your shoes again, until rafe comes up and guides you to his truck. the parking lot is clearing out, and you sit in his passenger seat fiddling with the hem of your dress while he drives you back home. 
you don’t speak until he parks infront of your house.
“i-i’m so sorry, rafe, really. i didn’t want that to happen. i’m really sorry.” everything feels more clear in his car, moonlight piercing through and shining on the two of you. it was stupid to do any of that—stupid to get rafe involved and stupider still to get him hurt.
“why’re you sorry? i threw the first punch.”
“you did?”
“you didn’t see?” he questions, and you want to hide your face in your hands.
“no, i-uh, i couldn’t watch, your friend took me away. uhm, kelce.” he laughs, to your surprise.
“don’t lose any sleep over it, kid. didn’t like the way he was talkin’ about you.”
“really?” you ask, and you hate how hopeful your voice sounds. you like that he cares, you hope he really does care.
“yeah.” you can’t hold it back any longer, leaning towards him and giving him a big kiss on his cheek. 
“thank you rafe,” you say quietly, biting your lip, hoping you didn’t misunderstand him.
“yeah, kid, whatever. get inside.” he leans over you to open the passenger side door for you, before returning to his position and staring at you from his seat. just as you start to move, he grabs your wrist, making you turn to look. “y’not gonna like what happens if i ever see you with him again. got it?”
you look at him like a deer caught in headlights, eyes big and wide, lips parted. you nod.
“got it.”
“good night, kid.”
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