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ddejavvu · 1 month

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Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Two) (18+) / Part One

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 5.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

An uncomfortable nap taken out of sheer spite does nothing to improve your mood. Your neck is stiff now, as is your spine, and it pops when you stretch from your place on the tiny loveseat.

“Well, Sleeping Beauty has risen,” Jake grins, the cocky expression boiling your blood, “Ready for dinner, sunshine?”

“I’m going to push you off of this boat.” You grumble, and Jake blinks, toning his smile down into a grimace.

“Well, maybe some food’ll improve your mood.” Jake rises from where he’d been presumably sleeping as well, though you’re surprised he fell asleep after you and woke up before you. His bedhead gives him away, and he runs his fingers through it, “We’ve got a table reserved in the restaurant for 6, darlin’. We should get there a little early, though, wanna head out now?”

Your nose wrinkles involuntarily, though you wouldn’t have stopped it, “You reserved us a table? I’m not eating with you.”

“We eat together all the time,” He scoffs, “Come on, Y/L/N, this is no different from eating in the mess hall.”

“It’s different because everyone who sees us is either going to think we just had sex, or that we’re about to,” You protest, but he’s out of sympathy to feign.

“Or both,” He grins, running a hand once more through his slightly less messy hair. He’s still barely dressed, and it takes effort for your eyes not to naturally drift away from his face.

“You’re usually wearing a uniform when we eat in the mess hall, Hangman,” You narrow your eyes at him, glancing pointedly below his neck to his bare chest, but straying no further, “Unless they’ve hired you to be a stripper on board, and I’m just now finding out?”

“Nah, I auditioned but they said I was too good,” He crosses his bulging biceps over his chest, a haughty smirk on his face, “I didn’t wanna steal any tips from the ladies.”

“Right,” You drawl, aiming to move past him to reach your suitcase that’s been mysteriously moved from beside your head to the side of the bed opposite from where Jake had been sleeping. Except, the man blocking your path doesn’t move, and you’re stuck in the small hallway-like space that the loveseat is squished into.

“Hangman,” Your teeth are gritted, and they warp your words slightly, “Move. I need my suitcase, I’m going to change for dinner.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with your dress,” He eyes the fabric with feigned consideration, “Except of course that it’s a little long. It only needs to go up to about here,” He snakes a hand towards your waist, laying two hefty smacks against the skin on your hip that lines up just beneath the curve of your ass. He moves faster than you can back away, but you land a valiant smack against his hand when he withdraws it, “Then you could join my stripping act.”

“Hangman, if you touch me again, I’ll rip off your balls,” You swear, but there’s still a glint of mischief far too bright in his eyes for your liking, so you shove past him, making sure to tap your knuckles gently between his legs for good measure.

He groans, hunching over and breathing heavily, “Shit, Y/L/N, you trying to take out the Seresin line?”

“It’s not that bad,” You drawl, setting your suitcase on the bed and delving into its contents, “But a world where you can’t reproduce sounds like one I want to live in.”

You’re already halfway to the bathroom, your evening dress in hand when he calls back, “You act all high and mighty now,” You can hear the grin that Jake’s voice indicates, even if he’s rummaging through his own suitcase for something to wear, “But later tonight I’m gonna have you beggin’ for me to knock you up, darlin’.”

Jake’s efforts to break into the bathroom you’re changing in are certainly impressive, if nothing else. He tries the knob at first, like you’d have forgotten to turn the lock before stripping naked. When you demand a reason he claims he’d forgotten his deodorant, which is a perfect excuse seeing as you miss no chances to point out his sweat-stench after training.

You spot the stick on the counter and give yourself the satisfaction of rolling your eyes, even if he’s not present to see it.

The second time he knocks, having learned his lesson, “Y/N, I need to pee.”

“I’m changing!” You cry, the straps on your dress proving impossible to untangle. Apparently being jostled in a suitcase wasn’t ideal for the dress’s shape.

“Changing what, seasons? By the time you get dressed our leave will be over, and you’re gonna have to get back into uniform.”

“If you’re so anxious to get to dinner, go by yourself!” You insist, frustration laced tight to your tone, “I’ll figure this fucking dress out, enjoy a leisurely meal, and then I’ll meet up with Daniel afterwards!”

You’re so used to Jake’s rapidfire quips that the silence ensuing after your declaration feels awkward. But it’s a victory, one that you don’t often win against the man outside the bathroom door, and you let it ease the sharp sting of annoyance that your dress is needling into you.

A fist lands heavy against the door, and Jake’s voice is unusually devoid of mirth, “Open up.”

“Jake, no!” You spit out his first name like a hex, “I fucking told you-”

“I’m going to help you,” He calls through the door, knocking incessantly, “Come on, you said you can’t figure out your dress, I’ll help you.”

“Nice try!” You scoff, finally pulling at the correct string and watching as the others fall into precarious place around them. You jab your arm into the hole it’s created and slip the rest of them into formation, standing triumphant in front of the mirror and realizing you look quite like you’ve had sex after all.

You smooth down a few flyaway hairs, grab Jake’s deodorant, and fling the door open, just as Jake flattens his hand to slam his palm into the wood, no doubt trying to make more noise than a simple knock.

You’re looking at his face, and he’s looking at yours, but both of you can feel his hand pressed firmly into your tit. You don’t doubt that he’d intended to hit the door instead of you, but he’s not moving away, either. You both stand paralyzed until his brain catches up with his body and he jerks his hand away, lashes fluttering as he blinks bewilderedly despite the wry grin purposefully etched into his features in an attempt to remain nonchalant.

“Didn’t mean to do that,” He simpers, and you’re certain that’s the closest to ‘I’m sorry’ he’s ever given you. You know him well enough to know he’s adequately flustered, but outsiders might not catch the barely-there pink tinge to his tan cheeks, too distracted by his charming smile.

You overlook the accident if only to save yourself the awkward confrontation, ducking your head and shoving the deodorant stick against his chest. His hands come up to catch it and you make a break for the heels you’d set out by the closet, intent on strapping them on instead of talking to him.

He mumbles a distracted, ‘Thanks,’ when you hand him his deodorant, but the stick remains firmly capped in his hands as his gaze trails after you.

“Your dress looks nice.” He concludes, voice a tone softer than it normally is. It’s- nice. You’re too used to the bite of his southern drawl, the way he pairs a cocky quip with an eye-roll more vicious than even the most belligerent teenager. Now they’re soft and gooey-brown as he stares at the straps on your shoulders. This isn’t the first kind thing he’s ever said to you, but it’s certainly the first in a long time, and you swallow the urge to use it against him.

“Thank you.” You grumble, then, to steer away from the thick silence you’ve been enveloped in, “Not sure it’s worth it, though, those straps were fucking confusing.”

You swear you hear a mumbled, ‘It was,’, but Jake’s back is turned to you as he sets his still-capped deodorant on the bathroom counter, so you can’t be sure.

You’re surprised to find that the elevator is just as empty as you’d left it when you and Jake board to head to the 9th floor. The restaurant Jake had reserved your table at is upscale, and you presume everyone else is too busy boning to manage a sit-down meal. You settle against the back wall of the elevator in silence, looking but not watching as Jake presses the 9 button with a thick finger.

The last time you were in this elevator, Daniel was backing you up against the railing and kissing you.

Just the thought brings heat to your cheeks, and you’re thankful for the support that the wall behind you offers. If it wasn’t there, you’re not sure your weak knees would withstand the crushing weight of your weighty crush.

“Was that where he sucked your face?” Jake’s voice shatters your reverie into a million tiny, unsalvageable pieces, and you forget any momentary truce that you might have had with him only moments ago.

“Excuse me?” You level a glare at the man across from you, unimpressed with his accusation even though it was accurate, “He did not suck my face. He kissed me like a gentleman.”

Jake lets out a bark of laughter, “Right. Because gentlemen smear a woman’s lipstick halfway over her chin.”

Despite knowing you’d have seen any makeup smudges when you’d been in the bathroom earlier, your hand darts to your chin.

Jake takes it as an admission of guilt, and his sharp grin only grows, “Exactly. I’ve sucked faces before, I know what the result is.”

A rather unsavory memory assaults you of Jake crowding a vacationing New Yorker up against a wall of the Hard Deck. You push away the nauseating burning in your chest at the image, intent on never seeing Jake Seresin’s tongue inside of anyone’s mouth but his own again.

“You suck faces,” You conclude, still slightly bothered by what you’d recalled, “Daniel kisses.”

“Daniel,” Jake snorts, grasping for something to tease, “That’s not a very moan-able name, is it?”

“Neither is Jake,” You retort, “Jake sounds like a toddler running loose at the mall.”

“That’s why the ladies call me Hangman,” Jake grins, his eyes narrowed in an attempt at a smirk, “Well, some of ‘em call me Hungman by the end of the night.”

“Oh,” Your face twists into a grimace, and you’re thankful for the dinging of the elevator, “You’re not allowed to talk at dinner.”

“Only way you’ll get me to shut up is if you gag me, darlin’.” Jake laughs, stepping out of the elevator and following behind you even as you storm ahead towards the entrance to the dining room.

It’s an opulent room, chandeliers and crystal adorning every surface. You slow your pace before you reach the reception desk, so that the poor employee doesn’t think you’re going to vault over the counter and attack him, but you’re fairly certain there’s still a scowl on your face when you attempt to speak with him.

“We have a table reserved,” You inform the man, conscious of Jake’s impressive build lingering behind you, present and firm, “Room 838?”

With a quick few buttons pressed on the screen before him, the host nods, customer service smile on full force as he gestures to his left, “Of course, right this way.”

You let him lead, and you try not to get distracted by the grandiose decor. Whether it’s authentic material, or just plastic spray-painted gold, it’s beautiful, and you’re so absent-minded that you don’t acknowledge your table until you’re stopped in front of it.

“Here you are; have a lovely meal.” The man politely excuses himself, heading back to the front to greet whoever else is waiting to be checked in for their tables.

You’d been too overwhelmed by finding out that your hot sexy mystery man was actually your brutally combative fellow pilot to think about what dinner would entail beyond heated bickering. He’d drawn a comparison to the mess hall and your brain had run with it, but this is decidedly different from the drab benches you’re used to.

This is a small, delicate, round table, a white tablecloth draped elegantly overtop. It’s two candles, giving off a small aura of warm light around the dim restaurant, crystalline dishes framed with polished silverware. It’s an enclosed space, it’s knees brushing and eyes twinkling with candlelight, it’s electric shocks when skin meets skin. It’s romantic by design, and you refuse to share it with Hangman.

But you can’t refuse.

The waitstaff is limited and overworked, evidenced by the mountain of covered trays you see them rushing to different tables. It would be rude to storm out, and while you’re not worried about offending Jake, you don’t want to inconvenience the staff.

Jake sniffs out your internal conflict by only a glance at your stiff stance, a skill he’s acquired after years of working out the perfect way to get under your skin. He can read you like a book, and he knows fury and guilt are waging war in your head right now.

You’d like to think he thought fury would win, but it’s guilt in the end. You step towards your chair, reaching out with two fingers to pinch the candle on your side of the table. The flame snuffs out beneath your touch, and the mild burning sensation is worth it to hear Jake scoff.

“Nicely done, killer,” He drawls, sounding offensively unperturbed by your obvious dislike of him. To your complete and utter indignance he reaches behind your back to pull the chair out from it’s seat, offering it to you as a peace treaty.

You are not a peaceful person, not when it comes to Hangman.

You take the opposite seat, maintaining sharp eye contact with Jake as you sit down. He inhales, and you take satisfaction in the puff of his chest, a telltale sign that he’s beginning to get aggravated. He lowers himself into his own seat, but notices the way your hand darts for the one candle that’s still lit, and he snatches it out of your way before you can snuff it out. It causes the silverware on the table to rattle, and you and Jake are required to send placatingly charming smiles to the people at nearby tables who turned at the commotion.

He turns that once-dazzling grin on you like a weapon as he relights the blackened wick of the candle you’d pinched, letting it burn once more to illuminate his features.

You don’t waste a second in snuffing it out again, “The point was so that I didn’t have to see your ugly face.”

“You are the most charming dinner guest I’ve ever had the pleasure of dining with,” Jake croons, unflappable as ever, “Put your napkin on your lap, Y/N, it’ll keep your dress dry when you’re drooling over me.”

You take ash-stained fingers and leave streaky, dark prints on the white cloth napkin, draping it over your lap and folding your hands neatly over it.

“Careful, Hangman,” You warn, your voice low and your face deceptively cheery as you nod kindly at a passing waiter, “They gave me two different knives to stab you with.”

“God, why are you so pissy?” He asks, and for a moment, you don’t know the answer. It catches you off guard, and that’s never supposed to happen, not around Hangman. He speaks again before you have the chance to respond- typical.

“So, we ended up on the same sex boat. Whatever, Y/L/N, shit happens.” His jaw is tense, fraught with annoyance while his eyes blaze like the jet engines he’s so used to gunning, “I’m just teasing, y’know. You know me, I’m not a monster, I’m not going to force you to have sex with me. If you don’t want to, then we won’t, and that’s that. You don’t have to keep snapping at me, I won’t bite you.”

It’s possibly the most heartfelt, sincere thing that Hangman has ever said to you, albeit in exasperation, and you’re not sure you’re comfortable with that. Your rapport with the man has always been full of quips and jabs, nothing like what he’s just unleashed. You’d known he must have had a soft side, but you thought perhaps he’d left it back in Texas, because this is something new. You see a waiter approaching from behind Jake and smile politely at them, clueing your dinner date in to their appearance.

“Unless you want me to,” Jake adds with an insufferable wink, using the last few seconds that you’re able to speak freely to tease you.

“Welcome,” The waiter smiles, once more with that impeccably tuned customer service politeness as he hands a wine list to Jake, “What can I get started for you this evening?”

As much as you hate to admit it, Jake’s teasing quip is familiar, a well-worn blanket you find comfort shrouding yourself in, and it breaks the awkward tension that had arisen when Hangman had spoken so sincerely towards you.

You don’t dare let a smile grace your features, but one tries; instead you settle for a kick to his shin beneath the elegant white tablecloth.

“We’ll have- mm! The- uh, the…” Jake trails off, eyes roving down the selection and realizing too late that he’s more attuned to cheap liquor in a beachside bar than he is to elegant pairings of food and wine. He recovers quickly, that special brand of Seresin charm, grinning across the table at you, “Actually, we’d like it if you surprised us. Money’s no object,” He throws in a grotesquely over-the-top wink, “Just make it special for my roommate here.”

Your teeth ache as you grind them together in a smile, and you swear you can feel your right eye begging to twitch, “How considerate of you, Jake.”

“Anything for you, dear,” He replies easily, accepting two dinner menus from the waiter and thanking him. You maintain the common courtesy of waiting until the poor man is out of earshot before tearing into Jake, and he’s lucky he’s got both of the menus still in his hands, or you’d smack him upside the head with one.

“I’m not paying out of my ass to get drunk at a candlelight dinner with you.” You hiss, courteous of the other patrons, but barely able to contain yourself.

“No, you’re not.” He agrees, blinking like he’s not sure why you’re close to shouting, “I am.”

“That’s- ooh!” You fume, eyes clamped shut and jaw so tight it hurts. You take a second to breathe, “Hangman, you know damn well I don’t like owing you money.”

You have a very strict no-loans policy, though it only applies to yourself. You have no problem spotting Natasha for a few drinks, or treating Javy to animal fries at In-N-Out, but you’d rather die than let someone use their dollar for your snack at a vending machine. Feeling like you owe something makes your skin crawl, and it’s something your friends have all had to accept. All, of course, except for Hangman, who seems to delight in making your skin crawl.

“You don’t owe me money,” He laughs, taking a sip of the glass of ice water that had been waiting at his place on the table, “And you don’t owe me anything else either, darlin’. I’m paying for the wine.”

“Then I’m not drinking it,” You decide, still caught in your blustering fury, “I’m too tired to deal with your bullshit - you can mill around the ship and beg some poor woman to drink with you, and I’ll go back to our cabin and sleep.”

You wish that the man across from you wasn’t so adept at setting your nerves on fire. You chalk it up to years and years of flying together, at each other’s throats despite being on the same team, but Jake really is able to infuriate you with something as simple as a grin. The way that hollow manipulation glazes over his eyes each time he doles out a charming smile makes your chest burn, and you wish you could get a handle on your frustration. It’s embarrassing, really, that he knows how to pick you apart and induce insanity; you wish you improved at resisting him through practice, but that’s not how it works. It only gets worse, worse and worse and worse until you’re sitting across from him at a candlelit table, yearning to whack him over the head with a black-foldered menu.

“Fine,” Jake snorts, setting the glass down in the wet indent it had made on the tablecloth before, condensation beading at its base, “You don’t have to have any. But you have to take me back to our room - if I get wine drunk, you’ll have to stop me from kissing everyone.”

The startling admission does exactly what Jake intended it to, and you’re caught off guard, the rapidly ticking bomb of frustration inside your chest temporarily disarmed.

“You’re a drunk kisser?”

“A winedrunk kisser, yes ma’am,” Jake nods, the ammunition he supplies you with a far cry from his typically competitive nature, “First and only time I’ve ever had wine was at my sister’s wedding a few years back.” He reminisces, still holding tight to both menus as candlelight flickers on his tanned face, “She wasn’t necessarily thrilled that I started kissin’ on the groom, but I looked good in the veil when the photographer came around.”

He’s good-natured about the snort you let out in response, and finally he offers the menu to you like an olive branch, “You gonna whack me with this thing?”

“How’d you know I wanted to?” You arch an eyebrow, taking the menu from him. Prices aren’t listed - the cost of your meals was included with the boarding pass, but extras like drinks are something you’ll need to pay a tab on later. Nevertheless, the food looks to be worth your money.

“You get this look in your eye when you’re feelin’ feisty,” Jake notes, taking a look at his own menu, “Your jaw gets all tight, and I start gettin’ the urge to cover my crotch.”

Today was not the first time you’ve ever whacked him in the balls; evidently he does learn, even if he chooses not to apply that knowledge.

You neglect to respond, no longer irritated enough to tell Jake that he’s deserved every hit he’s taken from you, but never vulnerable enough to apologize. Instead you bury yourself in the menu, appreciating the array of cuisine that you’re not often treated to on a naval base.

Jake lets you remain silent until the waiter comes back with the wine that he’d ordered, and you nod in thanks with a poorly-concealed clenched jaw to the man when he pours you a glass.

“That looks wonderful, thank you,” Jake gushes, eyes slightly narrowed as he raises his glass to his nose, inhaling the aroma wafting from the wine that he swirls gently, “Smell that, darlin’, ain’t it good?”

You reach for your portion with tense fingers that nearly shatter the stem of the glass as they wrap around it. The scent of the wine is oh-so-tempting; surely Jake’s objective for getting you to smell it was to wear you down into tasting it.

You won’t give in.

“Smells fantastic,” You concede, and if the waiter’s realized he’s in the lion’s den, pinned between two aggressors ready to rip into each other’s throats once more, he doesn’t show it. He merely bows, stepping away again and leaving the bottle on your table.

“That’s good,” Jake muses nonchalantly after a sip, glancing down at the menu in his lap as if you’ll believe he’s perusing it instead of plotting a way to make you explode at the table.

“Well I’m glad you like it, because you’ve got a whole bottle to finish,” You snipe, “I’m not a toddler, Jake, you can’t trick me into eating my broccoli by pretending it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Who said anything about tricking you?” He leans back in his chair, wine set back on the table, “Y/N, I can enjoy a nice glass of wine without it being about you, thank you very much. Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around you, and you’re not the only thing I think about.”

You’re more than used to Jake’s accusations of your egocentrism, not because it’s true, but because it’s what he defaults to whenever he can’t think of a response, but is too stubborn to let the issue go. They don’t worry you anymore like they used to, but they do irritate you, and you’re glad for the deep, smooth voice that calls your name from your left to distract you from Jake’s insults.

You know it before you turn; Daniel is there with his roommate. She’s gorgeous, her dark hair intricately braided and styled, a compliment to her skin that’s only a shade lighter, and you’re only slightly jealous of the way his arm is draped around her middle. You quell it by reminding yourself that you’d frenched him in an elevator only hours after meeting him, and this is a cruise meant for casual sex.

Perhaps your voice is a notch too sincere when you greet him, “Daniel.”

You miss it, your attention fixed on the couple approaching your table, but a muscle jumps in Jake’s jaw as it tightens.

“Well, I guess you’re all some people think about,” Jake drawls, his grin now wolfish and lethal, and while your voice was slightly too kind, his voice is slightly the opposite, scathing in a way, “So you’re- uh, Elevator Boy?”

Daniel’s slight smirk is bashful where he bites the inside of his cheek and nods, “I guess that’s accurate. I- uh, I hope you don’t mind.”

“He doesn’t,” You reply before Jake can conjure up any more misplaced snark, “We’re not hooking up.”

Daniel’s brows furrow for only a split second, a confused reaction he hadn’t been able to politely mask in time. His roommate glances back at Jake, and the knit of her brow is less fleeting; clearly she’s thinking you’re out of your mind for not fucking him.

“Random roommates don’t always work out, I guess,” Daniel smooths over the awkward silence that’s befallen your table, and you want to kiss him for it. Well, you want to kiss him regardless, but now you’re positively fiending for a repeat of earlier.

“He’s my coworker,” You explain, “We really can’t.”

“Oh!” He laughs, and his roommate seems equally amused by your poor fortune, “That’s crazy, and- there’s no changing roommates, is there?”

“She’s stuck with me,” Jake continues aiming that deadly grin towards Daniel, and you’re surprised he hasn’t caught on fire yet.

“Well, if you ever want to switch for a night,” Daniel squeezes his roommate’s side, his fingers ghosting over her exposed skin in the cutout dress she’s sporting, “I’m not an idiot; Danica’s ogling you.”

You marvel at the friendly banter they share after only a few hours of knowing each other, but Daniel seems fantastic to get along with. Danica laughs at his teasing and manages to look barely bashful when she nods at you, “I wasn’t gonna say anything when I thought you two were enjoying yourselves, but I’d be happy to step in if you wanna get lucky for a night.”

“That sounds great,” You jump at the offer, but Jake speaks at the same time, voice a hair louder than your own.

“We’re not interested.” He dismisses Danica’s offer but he looks at Daniel to do it, something dangerous gleaming in his eyes that you’re only used to seeing on the tarmac.

A laugh escapes your throat, horridly disguised as something casual and not your breaking point, “Oh, we aren’t interested? I am.”

Jake blinks, shifting his sharp gaze towards you, “No switching rooms, Y/N.”

“That’s for official placements,” You sit up straighter in your chair, turned fully towards Jake now instead of angled towards Daniel, “But they’re not gonna come check on us at two in the morning to make sure we’re all in our bunks. We can swap for a night.”

“I don’t know why you’re fighting so hard for a night in his bed, the elevator seemed to work just fine. Maybe Danica and I can have a few drinks tonight, and you can slip off and defile floors 1-4.”

“That’s not-” You’re hot on Jake’s trail, intent on defending Daniel and pointing out the hypocrisy in Jake’s scathing statements, but a firm hand falls on your shoulder that silences you. Daniel’s grip is firm, but not painful, more grounding as his touch practically sucks the fire out of your veins and replaces it with calm.

“I think drinks after dinner are a great idea.” Daniel speaks coolly, with all the perfect composure you wish you had around Jake, instead of the barrel of gunfire perpetually smoldering inside of you.

“Me too,” You add, and one of Jake’s eyebrows ticks up.

“Really? I thought you said you were going to bed after this. Something about being too tired to deal with-”

“Your bullshit, Hangman.”

What you engage in next would preferably be described as a battle of wills, but to the outside eye, might look like a staring contest. It’s your vicious glare against Jake’s lazy grin, eyes alight with mischief as he does what he does best - piss you off.

“We’ll plan on drinks, then,” Danica breaks the ice, and you’re grateful for the tones of her sweet voice, “There’s a bar on the ninth deck, do you want to meet there?”

“That sounds great,” You hope she takes your kind smile for what it is; gratitude, “We’ll head there when we’re finished with our food.”

“Right,” Daniel nods, squeezing your shoulder and letting go, taking Danica by the waist once more to lead her to the table their water had pointed at, “See you then.”

Whatever farewell you murmur is lost in the general hubbub of the restaurant, something that you wish would happen to the grating tone of Jake’s drawl.

“So,” He muses, playing coy, but you won’t have it, “You’re not tired anymore?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” You steel yourself, inhaling and letting your chest puff with the breath, “But whatever you’re doing here; trying to ruin this for me just for shits and giggles - it’s gotta stop. I’ll leave you alone, and you can fuck as many people as you want on this ship, okay? You can have what you came here for, a week-long hookup, and all I’m asking in return is for one chance. I just want one. fucking. chance. to enjoy myself. Okay?��

His eyes cloud over throughout the duration of your speech, and it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. It’s unsettling, like something’s dimming his spirit, though you can’t tell what. You’ve quipped back at him before, practically every time he’s ever teased you. But perhaps he’s just as unsettled with your newfound sincerity as you were with his, because his face settles into a hesitant expression. You press on.

“You told me earlier that you’re just teasing me, and that you’re not a monster. If that’s true, then leave me alone.”

He looks wounded only by a slight twitch of his eye; perhaps the prospect of being around you and not lunging teeth-bared at your throat is too much to bear. But he nods, slow and rickety like the joints in his neck protest the movement, “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.” You respond stiffly, glad for the menu in your lap as it provides an easy out for you; you’re not sure if you can stand looking him in the eyes. You’re afraid you’ll see disappointment there, perhaps real dislike, and you don’t want to find out that the only reason he speaks to you is to mess around with you. You’re content in feeling like you’re friends as well, and if he gives himself away now that you’ve asked him to ease up on the teasing, you’re not sure you’ll enjoy yourself at all on this vacation, no matter how much cheap, distracting sex you have. The truth of the matter is that you value the blossom of his friendship no matter how thorny it can be, and you’re not sure if he’s capable of playing nice without an occasional bite.

You’re sure things will go back to normal on the weathered tarmac, but until then, bobbing along on ocean waves, you want Jake Seresin to be your friend, not your frenemy. If he’s incapable, you want no part of him.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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makoodles · 1 year

Text

ミ the mightiest

part 1 | part 2

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!

adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!

The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.

It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.

Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.

It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.

Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.

“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.

You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.

“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.

Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.

He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”

“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.

“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”

Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.

“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”

Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.

“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”

You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.

“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”

There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”

God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.

“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”

That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.

You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.

And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.

Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.

“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.

You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.

“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”

Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.

“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.

His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.

Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.

If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.

In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.

Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.

And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.

His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.

“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.

It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.

“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.

A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.

“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.

You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.

You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.

He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.

“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.

Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.

Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”

Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.

“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.

Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.

For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.

“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”

As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.

Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.

You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”

He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”

And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.

“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.

Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.

But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.

You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.

Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.

Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.

“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”

He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!

“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.

You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.

But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.

As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.

You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.

"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.

In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.

"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.

The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.

Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.

Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.

“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”

Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”

You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”

Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.

“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”

Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.

When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.

"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.

"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."

You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”

“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.

You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.

But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.

His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.

It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.

You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.

“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”

“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”

You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”

Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.

If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.

You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.

“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.

You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.

“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.

“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.

Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.

“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.

He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.

Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.

The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.

Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.

“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”

You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.

“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”

Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.

“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”

Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.

“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”

And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.

And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.

Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.

Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.

“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”

“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.

Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.

This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.

His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.

It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.

You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.

You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.

“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”

He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”

It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”

Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.

“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”

Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.

“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”

Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?

“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”

Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”

Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”

You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”

Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.

“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.

“Hey–”

As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.

Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.

Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.

You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.

“Tawtute?”

You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.

“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.

Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”

You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.

You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.

But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.

You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.

Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.

You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.

Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.

There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.

The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.

When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.

“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”

You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.

“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”

“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.

Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.

“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”

“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”

You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.

Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.

You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”

You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.

“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.

His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.

“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.

It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?

Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.

“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”

“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.

It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.

“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”

Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”

“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”

Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.

“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.

You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.

“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”

Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.

You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.

“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”

You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.

“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”

“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.

When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.

Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.

“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”

“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.

“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”

The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.

Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.

You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.

You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.

All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.

But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.

“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”

Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.

Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.

Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.

“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.

There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.

“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.

This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.

Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.

You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.

At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.

“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.

He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.

“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.

“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.

You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.

Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.

“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.

“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.

Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.

It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.

Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.

Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.

Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.

He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.

You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.

“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.

Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.

You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.

It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.

Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.

Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.

Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.

You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.

You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.

Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.

Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.

He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.

Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.

It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.

“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.

“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”

“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”

You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.

“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.

“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”

Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.

“Y-yes.” You say.

Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?

“How would you like me to–”

“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.

Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.

The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.

What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.

“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”

“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”

And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.

Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.

“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"

You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.

Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.

“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.

Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.

“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.

You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.

Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.

“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.

What the fuck?

#on holidays atm and I’ve been stressing about how to post this 😭 I’ll have part 2 posted in a day or two!#neteyam #neteyam x human #neteyam x reader #avatar x reader #na'vi x human #na’vi x reader #awow #avatar way of water #neteyam fic #fics

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lowkeyerror · 9 days

Text

Summer Secrets

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 13.2k

Notes: minor homophobia, some angst, cursing, fluff, soft Regina (only for reader), cheating (technicality), takes a lot from the movie but timeline may be different.

Summary: When tasked with showing Cady Heron around school, you two quickly become friends. When Cady comes in contact with Regina George you feel obligated to help her out. Things get complicated from there because you have a soft spot for the mean girl.

An: Full disclosure have never written this much for a single post, but I'm excited to share it with you guys. I hope you like it likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Masterlist

For some people high school felt like the end-all-be-all of life. It made sense to some extent. Spending your formative years locked in a building with other hormonal youths forced to participate in some social hierarchical bullshit that only benefited the one percent, sounds like a nightmare. If you were lucky enough to do well, you’d get to spend some time as one of the top one percent. However, any wrong turn and you’d be remembered for whatever mistake you made for the rest of your school career.

It sounds over dramatic (cause it is), but it’s true. It’s your junior year in high school and people are still calling Janis Ian a pyro lez. On the other side of things, Regina George still enamored people. Many people fade in and out of popularity but not Regina. She held her crown in an iron clad grasp and would die before she let it slip.

You didn't really understand how Regina became popular. As far as you were concerned popular meant well-liked, but it didn't seem like anyone genuinely liked Regina other than Gretchen and Karen. Regina was cruel, but she was pretty and had money which in some convoluted way made her the queen bee.

You didn't play into the social dynamics of North Shore. You weren't some outcast or loner who was proud of being different, you weren't a nerd who got bullied by jocks, and you were not some popularity-obsessed junkie. You were just a person.

Someone who went to classes, ate lunch, then went to more classes, and subsequently left the school premises. So, while the school might have been a magnet for chaos, you felt like your experience was pretty normal.

Unfortunately, the normal way you went through school was about to drastically change.

For some unknown reason you had been selected to give a new student a tour of the school.

“Alright Katy this is Y/n, she’s going to be showing you around today. You got the same classes and lockers close enough together so, be friends or something and have a nice day,” principal Duvall was quick to usher you two out of his office.

“My name’s Cady by the way not Katy,” she broke the silence as she followed you down the hallway.

You stopped in front of her locker, “Welcome to North Shore Cady, try not to get sucked in to all the chaos.”

The girl gulps as she places her belonging in the locker, “Chaos?”

You take in her appearance, and she shifts under your gaze, “North Shore is kind of like that scene from High School Musical where they’re dancing in the cafeteria singing about the status quo. You seem like a sweet girl Cady, and the last thing you need to do is find yourself with a label on your forehead.”

Cady hears what you say, but she’s stuck on the fact that you called her a sweet girl, “I’ve been home schooled my entire life and now I feel like I’m being tossed to the wolves.”

You laugh, “I’d say that’s a pretty accurate analogy. As your guide, I can try to keep you out of the drama, but you are a new student, so you’ll get some kind of attention.”

You take Cady to homeroom and have her sit by you before class starts. You make a little small talk with her, until you’re interrupted.

“Y/n, who’s the new girl?” Janis plops directly behind you.

“Cady, this is Janis.”

Before Cady could speak to the goth girl, Damian interjects, “Is that your natural hair color? It’s gorgeous.”

Again, before the girl can speak for herself, the boy takes some of her hair in his hand, “See, this the color I want.”

Janis swats his hand out of Cady’s hair, “Sorry about that, Damian is too gay to function sometimes. He’s not the best with boundaries.”

The conversation doesn’t go any further as Ms. Norbury walks in. Ms. Norbury’s attempt at introducing Cady goes comically bad, but it’s not something that she harps on for long before starting class.

The rest of the classes seem to go by quickly and soon it’s time for lunch. You can see Cady’s head spinning as she looks at all the cliques.

“Who do you usually sit with?”

You shrug, “I usually don’t eat in here, it’s super stuffy. But if I do it’s usually either with the stoners or the art kids.

You stand quietly in line before Cady speaks up again, “What’s your label?”

“I don’t have one. I’m not some outcast or jock or anything like that. I’m an actual human being and labels are overrated.”

She nods slowly smiling, “That’s pretty cool.”

One you both gather lunch you go and sit at the edge of the stoner table. You give some greetings before turning your full attention to Cady.

“Ok, don't freak out but I won't be here tomorrow. So, you’re going to be on your own,” you break the news to the ginger.

She falters a bit, “Oh okay.”

You see her eyes land on Janis and Damian.

“Be careful with those two.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why they seem cool?”

You elaborate, “They are cool, but they have labels and roles to fit in to. They’ve got an affinity for ditching class and making up schemes. So don’t get sucked in to that stuff alright?”

Cady nods and then you see her eyes sparkle, “Who is that?”

You follow her line of sight and find yourself in a brief staring contest with the school’s queen bee. Your eyes dance over her features and time seems to slow down for a moment, until she finally looks away from you.

“That’s Regina George.”

“She seems important,” Cady says, noting how everyone around seems preoccupied with her.

You counter, “She carries herself that way, so no one really questions it. Regina is the most popular girl in school. The two with her are Gretchen and Karen. Some people call them The Plastics.”

“Got it, so I should steer clear?”

You shrug, “She’s a massive deal and some people would grovel for even a minute with her. She’s got a lot of influence around here. So, I would just say be careful of interacting with her. She’s as mean as she is pretty.”

“I don’t get it.”

You sigh, “It’s nuanced. You shouldn't be seeking out interactions with her but trust me you don't want to turn her away or brush her off if she approaches you. She can ruin the rest of your time here, so careful of her.”

One last time you look in Regina’s direction to see her laughing at some poor kid.

Cady sees this but decides against questioning it. The rest of the day goes by quickly and by the end of the day, you might just consider Cady your friend. You exchange numbers and tell her to make good choices in your absence.

It was some time the following night that you got a text from Cady.

Cady: I think I messed up today.

Y/n: What happened?

Cady: I got invited to sit with the Plastics.

The text conversation ends there as you can’t help but call the girl. She picks up immediately and starts rambling about her day. You silently listen from the other end of the line, almost in disbelief that all of that could happen in one day.

“So, you got encouraged to sit with Regina and her friends by Janis and Damian, who also made you skip class,” you try to follow.

“Yes.”

You continue, “And you have a crush on Aaron, from Calc?”

Cady blushes on the other line, “I don’t know? I just think he’s cute.”

You run a hand over your face, “Jesus Christ Cady, I’m gone for one day and this is what you get in to, Aaron is Regina’s ex."

She scrambles over the phone, “I don’t know it just happened. What do I do Y/n?”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, so the best advice I can give to you is wear something pink,” you joke over the line.

“Damian is letting me borrow his shirt.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter.

“It’s not funny, Y/n,” she whines.

“Tell him to keep the shirt. You can borrow something from me instead.”

Cady is grateful but she has a curious tone as she asks, “You don’t seem like the pink wearing type.”

You speak coyly, “What have I been saying about labels Cady? You can’t put me in a box. Fun fact pink is one of my favorite colors.”

Cady’s next words are hesitant, “Maybe if you wear something pink too, they’ll let you sit too.”

“Cady, I have no desire to sit with Regina and her friends, but I don’t want to throw you to the wolves without at least trying to save you. So, for you, I’ll wear the pink, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll let me sit.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Cady praises you over the phone.

You chuckle, “Anything else?”

“Nothing that I can think of. You’re the best Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

You smile, “Goodnight, Cady."

When the conversation ends you get out of your bed and head for your closet. For the most part it was filled with t-shirts, jeans, sweaters, and the occasional formal attire. You have to go deep into the back of it to actually find what you’re looking for.

You’re hesitant to pull it off the hanger. It’s a simple pink bomber jacket. It’s cute and the material is soft. Cady could wear it. The one thing that gives you great pause about letting her borrow it, is that the jacket had been gifted to you by Regina George.

You had grown up in North Shore, so you were always aware of Regina George. You’d gone through school together, even sharing some classes together. All this to say you knew the girl’s character. She had always been mean.

It was 2 years ago when your parents decided that a family vacation during the summer would be good for everyone in the house. You weren't complaining, it was good to get out of the city.

Your parents had gone all out and rented out a beach front property for the 3 months you had away from school. It was a gorgeous property, and you often found yourself enjoying the scenery.

The last thing you expected to see was Regina George. Yet coincidentally the home your folks rented was right next to a property owned by Regina’s family.

You didn’t have any need to acquaint yourself with her. So, for a few weeks into the vacation, you didn’t approach her. That didn’t stop you from looking at her. You always knew she was gorgeous, but it was a shame her personality didn’t match.

Eventually your staring caught her attention.

“Y/n, right?”

You frown as the sun you were using to read is blocked. You look up to see Regina standing in front of you. Her blue eyes pierce yours curiously.

“Yep, how can I help you?”

“Why so formal?”

You finally meet her eyes, “Well you are the most popular girl in our grade.”

Regina’s eyes divert from yours, “We aren’t in school right now.”

You nod, “You’re right. So, I can just tell you to fuck off.”

She sets up her things next to yours, “You could, but who says I will listen.”

You laugh a bit, “What do you want, Regina?”

She sighs, “Is it a crime to want some company?”

“It’s not,” you answer, before returning to your book.

“I haven’t seen you here before. I come every summer,” Regina tries for small talk.

You sit the book down and give the girl your full attention.

“My parents saved up to rent out a beach front property this summer. They said it’s good for family bonding,” you say.

“I’ve only really seen you,” Regina comments.

You shrug, “My parents are enthralled with each other. They’re rediscovering how much they love each other. Where are your parents?”

You see her shift under your gaze, “My dad is on some business trip or something and my mom is out somewhere with my little sister.”

That first interaction spurred on by Regina started something of a summer friendship. You had no expectations of keeping it when the summer ended. So, when she came to you nervous one of those summer nights saying that it was better not to interact at school, you weren’t surprised.

You told her you expected this from her and that it was fine, but that maybe you could continue this friendship next summer. That night she hugged you for what seemed like forever as an apology.

When school started back it was like you were strangers. You were surprised to receive some texts from her here and there. You’d always answer, and you’d be lying if you weren’t looking forward to summer.

When the next summer rolled around, as soon as your feet hit the sand you were nearly knocked to the ground. The queen bee locked her hands behind your neck and her legs wrapped around your waist.

“You miss me or something, Gina?”

“You have no idea, how much I’ve been looking forward to it.”

She pulls away to look at you but doesn’t unhook her legs from your face. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you clear your throat. She drops down smiling innocently as a blush spread across your face.

“You look good,” Regina comments.

Your hand scratches the back of your neck, “Puberty or whatever, I guess.”

Her hand finds yours, “So what’re we doing first?”

Last summer was different than the first. It didn’t feel like you were further expanding the friendship, it felt like you were building something different with Regina.

Those suspicions were confirmed when her lips met yours one night when you both were watching the waves.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss me, Gina,” you whisper against her lips.

“Why not?”

You open your eyes to look into hers, “Because when we go back to North Shore, I’m going to miss this.”

She pulls away, “I’m sorry, I just-”

You chase her until her back is flat on the sand. You hover over her lips, before pecking them, “Be mine for this summer Gina.”

You can see the sadness in her eyes as she speaks, “I’m going to break your heart, Y/n.”

Your hand cups her face, “I know, but that’s not your problem.”

Regina shakes her head, “I care about you, Y/n. I don’t want-"

“Just let me down gently baby,” you plead with her.

She sees the desperation in your eyes as they search hers. Regina didn’t want to hurt you, she needed you to stay away from her. For once in her life, she was thinking about the consequences of her actions. However, pushing you away was not an option.

She captured your lips again. You deserved more, but you were begging for her. All she could do was keep her promise and let you down gently.

You thought you had prepared yourself for the summer to end. That was far from the truth because when you woke up the day before you left, Regina was already gone.

You thought she left without saying goodbye. You were wrong. When you went to the patio of your summer home, you found her goodbye. She left you her jacket, a letter, and a seashell necklace.

The letter itself had a few tear stains on it that made it hard to read. You didn’t think Regina was the type to put pen to paper, but you were used to being surprised by her.

I’ve tried writing this a bunch, but I keep fucking it up. I should’ve started with Dear Y/n or something, but that just didn’t sound right. I’m sorry for so many things, Y/n. You told me to let you down gently and here I am leaving without saying goodbye because I'm selfish. I’m mean, I’m selfish and I’m not good for you. When school starts, I have to uphold this image and as much as I want to say that it’s not me. It’s not true. I’m that girl that you know back home, but here with you… I feel this responsibility to be better. This summer meant everything to me. Every moment with you meant everything to me. I wish we could stay here because I’ve never been happier. I will never be happier then I was here with you. I don’t deserve to be. I hope this was gentle enough, baby.

Love,

Your Gina

Reading the letter stirs a plethora of emotions through your system. You let Regina break your heart and you hadn’t faced her since. The thought of getting close to her at school scared you. You knew the girl you had feelings for didn't exist during this time of year and if you got in her way, she’d surely take you down.

The next day you find yourself wearing a pink tank top mostly covered by your black zip-up hoodie. You send Cady a picture of the jacket advising her to find something that matched.

You arrive on campus and patiently wait for Cady to show up.

“Pink might be your color Y/n.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up Janis and what are you planning with Cady and Regina?”

“I can't shut up and explain at the same time so…”

“I’m serious Janis. Cady is fresh meat for someone like Regina.”

Janis claps her hands together gleefully, “Fresh meat or a blank canvas. Regina stood up for Cady yesterday, which means she's taken an interest in her. Queen bee sees potential, which means Cady is either a successor or a threat.”

“Ok, what does any of that have to do with you?”

Damian enters the conversation at that point, “Oh it’s a part of her plan for revenge on Regina.”

Janis smacks the boy a few times. The end up play-fighting before you get between them.

“Enough! Revenge for what exactly?”

Janis’s eyes darken, “That information is classified I'm afraid.”

You glare back at her, “You shouldn’t drag Cady into this.”

Now it’s Janis who rolls her eyes, “If she wants to help out a friend who am I to stop her.”

You get up as soon as you spot Cady. With one final look back to Janis you say, “Friends don’t use each other in revenge plots.”

Cady’s outfit was simple, but cute and the jacket would go perfect with it. You greet her with a smile.

“Nervous?”

“More than I was on the first day,” she frowns.

You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a bit, “You got this and even if it flops, you have me ok. The biggest thing to remember is you have to be yourself alright?”

“Janis and Damian said I shouldn’t be myself around The Plastics,” Cady put her head down.

“Hey, look at me. You don’t need to try to fit in with them. Regina invited you to sit, which means she wants you there. Think about it like that,” you try to ease her nerves.

She nods, giving you a small smile in return, “That makes sense. Oh shit, they’re looking at me. Do you have the jacket?”

You turn to find Regina and her clique looking curiously in Cady’s direction. Quickly you pull the jacket out of your bag. Cady reaches for it, and you pull it back slightly.

“This jacket is important to me, ok? I need it back at the end of the day,” you warn her.

Cady’s attention stays on the popular girls until she sees Regina’s gaze shift towards you. Again, the two of you are in an intense staring contest.

“I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” Cady repeats.

You hand her the jacket and go to walk off. Her arm catches your wrist, and you turn around. It’s a bit too fast and the girl almost falls, so you steady her.

“Careful,” you scold her lightly.

Her voice is light as she questions you, “Where’re you going?”

“To my locker?” You say curiously.

“Well, mine is close to yours so I didn’t really expect you to- sorry it’s silly. You go, I’ll see you-”

This time it’s her that goes to pull away. You drop your hand into her’s leading her towards the lockers.

“No, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just kind of used to doing my own thing. It makes complete sense for us to go together.”

“I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” she apologizes.

Your hand lets go of hers as you get in front of your locker, “No big deal, let’s just get through today.”

Lunch comes sooner than you want it to. You try to hide your nerves for Cady’s sake. She approaches Regina’s table with you not too far behind her.

Before she sits down, she clears her throat and looks at Regina, “H-hey it’s cool if not, but I was wondering if my friend Y/n could sit here maybe?”

Gretchen goes on some tangent about it being disrespectful to ask and says that Cady should be disinvited just for even bringing it up, “I mean who do you even think you are?”

“Are you done Gretchen?” Regina replies not even looking at the girl.

“I- I,” she stutters and sits silently in defeat.

Regina eyes look at Cady as if she’s bored, “Is she at least wearing pink?”

You unzip your jacket revealing the pink tank top underneath. Regina looks briefly at shirt before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Only today.”

The answer shocks Gretchen and Karen, but they don’t say it. Cady sits at the edge of the table while you decide to sit next to Karen, in a way that separates you from the main group.

“Cute jacket. Where’d you get it?” Regina says to Cady.

The question alone makes the food on the lunch tray unappealing to you.

Cady answers seamlessly, “It was a gift.”

It’s a good save. If it hadn’t been Regina’s jacket it would have been the perfect lie. The blonde lets it go with a hum before she starts diving into the stereotypical gossip of the school.

It’s hard being this close to her. You had done what you could to stay away from her at school, but here you were sitting across from her trying your best not to stare.

Gretchen goes on explaining the rules of The Plastics to Cady for what felt like forever. You mindlessly scroll through your phone wishing the lunch period would end.

Cady definitely didn’t need you here. You had decided that you were going to leave the table, but before you did, you felt her eyes on you. It was like you were glued to the seat.

“So, we’re going to my house after school to study. Cady are you in or out?” Regina asks, but it’s really a demand.

“Yeah, for sure I’m totally in,” she says excitedly.

“One day offer loser, are you in?” Regina looks at her nails, but it’s clear she’s talking to you.

Gretchen speaks up again, “Regina you can’t be serious? Sitting with us was one thing, but-”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you Gretchen?” Her voice was ice cold.

Cady looks at you with eyes that were basically saying ‘pretty please’.

“I’m in,” you say against your gut feeling.

Once lunch is over you all disperse. Cady corners you before you go to your next class, “Oh my god that went so well. Regina even asked us to come over.”

You bury your head in your hands, “What have I just agreed to?”

“Hey, this is a good thing, right? If it's not its only one hangout,” Cady’s hand finds your shoulder giving you comfort.

“You’re right, it’s just- Regina’s kind of intimidating up close,” You mumble.

Cady nods, “Very intimidating. Did something happen between the two of you?”

You make a face that creases your eyebrows, “Who? Me and Regina.”

“Yeah, I've seen you staring at each other, and it just feels like tension,” Cady says.

You avoid the truth skillfully, “Well, I've known Regina a long time. I’ve seen what she's capable of. It’s pretty scary. It’s not really staring on my part more like freezing in fear.”

“She can’t be that bad. I think she’s kind of sweet,” Cady admits.

You shake your head, “What did I tell you before Cady? Regina George is mean.”

Cady scoffs, “Everybody keeps saying that, but no one is giving me any examples.”

“Watch her the rest of the day, you'll get it then,” you say knowing that Regina couldn't go too long without letting her mean streak show.

It didn’t take long for Cady to see what you were talking about. Regina treated their peers like they were beneath her at every chance she got.

When your last class was over, you both made your way to Regina’s jeep. Cady is stopped on the way by Janis and Damian. You decide against staying for that conversation. You expect the ginger will catch up to you.

When you get to the car Regina is already there waiting. It is slightly strange seeing her without a boy or her friends. Cautiously you approach her, but not to close. You keep your head down as you stand what you deem as near enough to her car.

“Get in,” she says after an awkward silence.

Your hand barely touches the door to the back before she speaks up again, “The front seat.”

This causes you to look up at her, but she’s already making her way around to the driver’s side. You follow her orders and get in the passenger seat next to her.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this fidgety. Your hand finds a spot firmly on your knee to keep it from bouncing out of control.

“You gave her the jacket,” It’s small when she says it.

It’s a challenge for you, but you make eye contact with her, “She’s just borrowing it. I would never give it away. “

The conversation dies there as Karen, Gretchen, and Cady arrive at the jeep.

“Regina, why is she in my spot?” Gretchen complains about your presence once again.

You start to remove the seatbelt to get in the back, but Regina’s hand grabs your wrist.

“Gretchen, when did you start asking more than 2 stupid questions a day? Nothing in my car belongs to you. If she were in the driver's seat, I would expect you to get in and shut the fuck up. So, get in the back and stop being so annoying.”

You could see Gretchen shrink under Regina’s words. Part of you feels bad for her, she was just acting in the way Regina usually would approve of. You were already making things complicated when they didn’t have to be.

The rest of the girls pile into the back of the jeep and it’s awkward for a moment, but eventually the chatter starts naturally. Once again you feel out of place.

You can’t stop thinking of the feeling of Regina’s hand on your wrist. Her skin on yours provides you with a sense of comfort. It’s almost like you were remembering that you knew what she felt like. You’re craving her touch; the thought alone makes your face burn with embarrassment.

Pulling up to Regina’s house feels surreal. It’s bigger than you thought. It almost felt wrong to go inside. Regina ushers everyone upstairs quickly trying to avoid her mother. You move the quickest, slightly afraid that Mrs. George might recognize you from the summer. Cady takes time to properly greet the woman.

If being in her house felt wrong being in her room felt even more invasive. It’s as pink as you imagined it be, but not in a childish way.

This is when Cady tries to fold you into the conversation, “Y/n, actually really likes pink.”

It’s so sudden having all the girls look to you for conformation. You try to regain your usual attitude, rather than the bundle of nerves you've become today.

“I think it's pretty cool,” You shrug.

Karen’s eyes widen, “You talk?”

You laugh as the other girls roll their eyes, “Yes, Karen I talk.”

“Well, you haven't said anything this whole time so how was I dose to know,” she tilts her head to the side.

She has a good point. From that point you try to engage me with the girls. It isn't so bad. The more you talk with the others the more you begin to relax.

That was until Mrs. George came upstairs with snacks. You excuse yourself to the restroom. It isn't until you’re out of the room that you realize you have no idea where it is.

“Follow me,” Regina appears from seemingly thin air.

You follow her and the two of you end up in front of the bathroom door. You stand there not saying anything to each other.

“Well, are you going to go?”

“I don’t actually have to go, I was just saying that to leave the room in case your mom recognized me,” you explain.

Regina nods, “Right makes sense."

Another long pause.

“I’m sorry, for coming here Gi- Regina. I was just trying to be there for Cady,” you don't look at her as you speak.

“Looking out for your new girlfriend, I get it,” there’s some venom in her tone.

“She’s not- I’m not into Cady.”

Regina falters, “It’s not my business, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

That was her way of apologizing. You don’t know what else to say. Your eyes linger on her, taking in her appearance this close.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says before heading back in the direction of her room.

You sigh, “You look good, Regina.”

That seems to stop her in her tracks. She turns to face you again, “You can't say stuff like that.”

You take the opportunity to joke, “Do I need to say you look so totally fetch instead or…?”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “You’re annoying you know that.”

It’s completely different than how she said it to Gretchen. For this small instance in the hallway, she sounds like your Gina. It makes your heart flutter but sickens you all at the same time.

Re-entering Regina’s room you see the girls looking at a weird book. You see the shift in Regina’s features instantly, “Why is that out here? “

“Your mom thought it would be funny,” Karen answers, flipping through the pages.

You can't help but read one of the pages aloud, “Ms. Norbury is a PUSHER, a SAD OLD DRUG PUSHER.”

The book is filled with girls from school, it’s surprising you had escaped the pages. It’s then you’re reminded just how effortlessly cruel Regina could be.

Janis's revenge plot was starting to make more sense. You hated to agree, but maybe she needed a fall from grace.

“I have to go,” you say gathering you're things.

Regina moves to block your exit. She looks at the rest of girls like they’re idiots, “Why aren't you guys grabbing your shit? She has to go that means you all have to.”

The girls scramble to pick up their stuff. Regina grabs her car keys from the vanity, signaling that she was doing drop offs.

She takes Gretchen home first, then Karen, next is Cady. You notice Cady doesn't have on your jacket when you get a glimpse of her. Slight panic bubbles inside of you. If she left it at Regina’s, you'd likely never see it again. You get a text as you come to this realization.

Cady: The jackets in your backpack

Y/n: Cool thanks

When Regina parks in front of Cady’s house you say goodbye and tell her to text you later. When she leaves the car, the energy shifts drastically.

You knew Regina did this intentionally as your house was only a block over from hers. It would've made sense to take you first, but she waited to have you alone in this moment.

“Can we talk?” You see her hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

“Well now is as good as it's going to get, isn’t it?” You say picking at the sleeves of your sweater.

Regina sighs, “You were never this timid on the beach.”

“You and I both know you're a different person there. I never thought I’d be in this situation with you here, forgive me if I’m cautious around the queen bee,” you rebuttal.

Her grip tightens, “You’re scared of me.”

You shake your head, “I’m not scared of you, Gina.”

“Then why?”

You look out of the window, “I’m scared of the way you make me feel. I look at you and all of a sudden, I want to be back on that beach. This is as close as we’ve been during the school year, and I can’t make a habit of this. You let me down gently, but that doesn’t mean my heart isn’t broken.”

“I told you,” it’s a whisper from the blonde.

“I would do it all over again,” you still can’t look at her.

Regina feels herself losing her composure. Before she can drive any further, she pulls over in a random parking lot. She shakes her head as tears build behind her eyes.

“You’re not supposed to say shit like that, Y/n. It’s cheesy and overplayed. It’s something you say to people that you care about, and you shouldn't care about me,” she begins to breathe heavily.

“Gina-"

Her hands find her hair as a groan leaves her, “I hurt you Y/n and you just let me. Why don’t you hate me?”

Your hands reach for hers. She lets you pull them from her scalp.

“Regina, I’m not some stranger you met on vacation 2 years ago. I grew up here, with you. I knew what I was getting into. I did it anyway,” your thumb runs over her knuckles.

“You didn't want more?”

Your eyes soften, “I wanted you in every way you’d allow me to have you, Gina. You weren’t just some summer fling to me. It’s just- I knew you'd never go for that. You have this image to uphold, and I fuck it up.”

“You shouldn’t care about my image. You should be calling me a coward and a liar. I don’t get why you haven’t even tried to expose me,” she goes on.

“I don't care about school politics,” you say.

She sounds desperate as she speaks, “But I do, and you could ruin me.”

Against your better judgment your hand caresses her cheek. She looks up at you and you lean forward.

“I gain nothing from hurting you Gina,” your lips graze hers as you speak.

“Fuck it,” Regina closes the gap between the two of you.

Her lips against yours feels better than you remember. Neither of you are eager to pull away. When you do your forehead rests against hers.

“I was so stupid thinking I could stay away from you,” Regina says trying to catch her breath.

“I missed you too,” you tell her.

“We have to figure this out. I’m not ready to… show this side of myself to the school, but I need you,” Regina admits.

You shrug your shoulders, “We could sneak around. No one has to know.”

She searches your face, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Positive.”

People often make jokes about famous last words, but that honestly felt like yours. Life became a lot more hectic after you suggested that arrangement between you and Regina.

A lot of it was a blur as she began to pull you into the janitors closet whenever she got the chance. Sometimes for talking and sometimes to makeout.

Off campus you would find yourself at the blonde’s house quite often. The two of would hang out in her room for hours. On occasion she would borrow her mom’s car to take your somewhere out of the city.

While things were going great for you with Regina. Cady was slowly but surely making her move on Aaron. You didn't think it was wise, but if it made her happy, then you supported it.

Cady had also kept her seat with Regina and friends. It seemed like she was finally progressing towards actually becoming a member of their clique.

You hadn’t been around much, but you hoped this meant Cady was done with whatever Janis had been planning. Playing both sides wouldn’t be good for her.

“Are you going to Chris Eisel's Halloween party?” Cady asks as she goes through her locker.

“Probably, everyone is going.”

She nods her head, “I think I'm going to try to get with Aaron at the party.”

Your eyes widen, “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

Cady dismisses your warning, “Regina and I are cool now. I think I'm going to tell her I like him and see if it's ok that I take my chance.”

You look at her as if she was crazy, “Cady getting with the queen bee's ex-boyfriend is not smart. Telling her about it beforehand only gives her prep time to take you down.”

“It will be fine.”

You knew that it, in fact, would not be fine. Your suspicions were confirmed later in the day when you were in Regina’s room.

The blonde paces back and forth silently. There’s a scowl on her face. You let her try to cool down for nearly 15 minutes, but at this rate there would be a hole in the floor where she walked.

“So, you talked to Cady,” you lightly poke the bear.

“Who does she think she is? I let her into the most influential group at the school and now she wants to fuck my ex. If she gets with Aaron there’s a chance that I look like an idiot,” Regina was furious.

“How would that make you look bad? You dumped him, right?” you try to follow.

“It makes it look like I’d allow anyone to have the things that I have. Dating Aaron would push her up the social ladder. Being one of us and dating him would make her more popular than me,” she says it like it’s obvious.

“Right,” you’re still confused.

Regina groans before finally sitting on her bed next to you, “You wouldn’t get it. You’re not into the school politics or whatever it is you say.”

You wrap your arms around the blonde and she leans back into your touch, “Just try not to destroy her too bad, ok? She’s, my friend.”

“I’m going to put that ginger bitch in her place,” she threatens.

You sigh, but there’s not much else you can do. You warned Cady that this was a bad idea.

“No more talking about Cady. We have episodes of Malcolm in the Middle to watch,” you kiss the top of her head.

“You’re right, I don’t want her cutting into our time together,” she places a kiss to the side of your jaw.

You knew that whatever happened at that party would be bad, but for now you decided to ignore it for now. In hindsight, it was a mistake. It was almost as if all the time you were spending with Regina made you forget that when everything was said and done, she was mean.

The party’s already in full affect when you get there. It’s almost impossible not to spot Cady in her costume.

“I see you went for the scary over sexy look,” you shout so that she can hear you.

“I thought this is what they meant by costume. Not just a pair of mouse ears,” you can barely make out what she’s saying over the giant plastic teeth.

You laugh, “Well I think it’s pretty cool for what it’s worth.”

“Thanks, I hope Aaron thinks so too. Who are supposed to be?”

You pull out your tiny comb and run it through your hair, “Well me sweetheart, I’m grease lightning.”

She giggles at your antics, “I don’t why, but that makes sense for you.”

You chat with Cady enjoying the party atmosphere until you get a glimpse of Regina, “Wow.”

Cady turns her attention to the blonde, “She looks amazing. Is she-”

“An angel,” you finish Cady’s thought.

Cady watches as your eyes rake Regina’s entire form, “I’ve never seen you look like such a fan of hers before.”

It’s a task as you tear your eyes away from Regina, “I’ve said it a million times Cady. She’s mean, but damn she's pretty.”

“I’m going to go say hi, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t stay to watch the interaction between the two girls opting to get a drink from the kitchen instead.

In the kitchen your quest for a drink is postponed as you see Karen standing on the table, looking as if she was going to fall. In typical North Shore fashion, instead of helping her down people are recording her.

You take it upon yourself to walk over and extend your hand to the girl. She takes it gratefully, but still manages to trip on her way down. You’re reflexes work fast to catch her, and steady her on the ground.

“Y/n, you saved me,” she giggles and jumps up and down a few times.

You laugh with your response, “I did, but be careful next time I might not be around.”

“I was trying to find Gretchen,” the girl frowns.

You sigh, trying to figure out if you really want to take on this task. One look at Karen’s wobbly stance, and you take her hand.

“Let’s find her.”

It takes you longer than expected to find Gretchen. When you get a glimpse of her, she’s yelling at Jason over who knows what. You see if you wait it out if it will end, but it doesn’t. So instead, you decide to interrupt anyway.

“Gretchen!” Karen exclaims as you get closer to the girl with the loose curls.

“Karen was looking for you,” you tell her nonchalantly.

Gretchen looks at her clearly drunk friend and then back to the boy she was arguing with. She points her finger at him, “This isn’t over.”

She then takes Karen by the arm and begins to drag her away, “Bye Y/n.”

Gretchen turns back to you for a quick moment mouthing ‘thank you’ before she goes to take care of Karen.

You’re basically back to the middle of the party. You look for Cady and spot her standing still across the room. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly as she clutches her hand over it.

You follow her line of sight and feel your heart break in your chest. Regina and Aaron are locked in an enthusiastic kiss. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you hold them at bay. You make your way over Cady deciding that the party is over for the both of you.

Your presence takes her out of her trance, “Let’s go.”

She looks over to see Regina looking right at her. Cady doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead out of the party. It’s not until Regina realizes that you’re the one taking Cady, that the blonde regrets her actions.

You don’t know how you end up and Janis’s place, but you do. Janis and Damian are watching some old Halloween movie in her garage. Cady starts telling the art kids what happened at the party. Janis springs up from her seat quickly comforting the girl.

You take this opportunity to sit next to Damian. Its then that you learn that Cady didn’t actually know why Janis wanted revenge. You find out some details you didn’t know either, despite being there for the debacle.

“Now you know that Regina George is not your friend, we’re your friends and we’re going to make her pay,” Janis says with her eye twitching.

“Pause, why are you here Y/n?” Damian acknowledges that you look just as upset as Cady.

You search for an answer, “I brought Cady.”

Janis narrows her eyes at you, “That’s not everything.”

You know you shouldn’t, but as the images of Aaron and Regina cross your mind you can’t hold it in.

Your head falls into your hands, “It’s complicated.”

The moment the two words leave your lips you find yourself telling them everything from the first summer to the recent rendezvous. By the time you're done you’re a mess.

“She told me this would happen, but I didn't listen. I’m so stupid,” you began to get angry at yourself as you harshly wiped your eyes.

“Hey, don't be so hard on yourself,” Janis wraps an arm around.

“And I thought she was cruel before,” Damian looks at you sympathetically.

“She’s not going to get away with this Y/n,” Cady promises.

You shake your head, “Guys, I’m not out for vengeance. I just- it hurts.”

Janis rubs your shoulder a few times, “Don’t worry, we got your back. While Cady focuses on knocking Regina down a peg, Damian and I will make sure she stays away from you.”

Just as the words leave her mouth your phone begins to buzz repeatedly. You peak down at it and can see a bunch of messages from Regina coming through. You reach for it, but Cady takes it and simply flips it over on the table.

“No more, Regina George. “Now, what are we watching,” she says, and you nod gaining back some of your bearings.

So, you spend the rest of your night watching bad horror movies with your friends, trying to keep your mind off of Regina.

The next school day you don’t make it far without feeling a certain pair of eyes on you. Before you can turn to look in her direction Janis and Damian are by your side whisking you into the school building.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like disintegrate under her gaze,” Janis comments.

Damian follows up, “Yeah if looks could kill, you’d probably be dead right now.”

Your gaze stays on the floor, “She can look all she wants as long as she keeps her distance.”

That's basically what transpires your next 6 weeks at school. Janis, Damian, and Cady fail to make any sort of mockery of Regina, the popular girl debuts her rekindled romance, and you fall deeper into your depression.

Regina does try approaching you a few more times, but she consistently gets blocked by Janis, Damian, or Cady, for which you’re grateful. You don’t want to talk to her while she’s busy parading her boy toy around.

Every day is starting to seem longer than the last. You dread stepping on campus, because even if you manage to avoid seeing Regina, she’s all anyone talked about. It was like you were always surrounded by her and it was driving you insane.

It gets to the point where sometimes you periodically skip class, just to walk the empty hallways to get away from her. Skipping class seems to be your downfall as you find yourself being yanked into the janitors closet.

“What the fuck?” Your initial panic only increases when you see Regina blocking the door.

“We need to talk,” Regina says with a sharp tone.

You shake your head, “No we don’t, now let me out of here Regina.”

You try to push past her, but she puts a hand on your chest, “I’ve been trying to talk to you since the Halloween party.”

“For what, Regina? You put Cady in her place just like you said you would. I should've seen it coming,” your words come out harsh.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” her voice was small when she spoke.

You let out a bitter chuckle, “There was no way I wasn’t going to get hurt. What, you were just going to kiss and date Aaron publicly while keeping me on the side?”

“I don’t care about Aaron, I only care about you,” she shoots back.

“You couldn’t even run it by me. Maybe check to see if I would’ve been ok with it? Regina we were practically dating,” you argue to the girl.

Regina runs a hand through her hair, “I know that. I know I fucked up, I’ve been trying to apologize, to talk to you, but your guard dogs never let me get close.

You scoff, “My friends are protecting me from you.”

Regina sounds incredulous, “So you told them?”

Your hands go up feigning exasperation, “Yes, I told them. I didn’t really have a choice because when I left the party, I was a fucking mess, and they were there for me.”

“It was just a kiss, Jesus Christ you’re acting like I fucked him on the couch,” she complains.

The disbelief in your tone comes out, “You really don’t get it, do you? You want to know why it fucked me up so bad? Despite how mean you are and how vain you can be, I saw something in you. I cut through all the bullshit to find the actual human being with feelings. I got to know you better than anyone else in this hell hole ever will. Underneath all that toxic plastic costume that you wear is the girl that I loved. So, I’m sorry if my hurt feelings are too much for you, but it fucking sucks seeing the person you love kiss someone else.”

You didn't know when you got so close to Regina. The roles had reversed at some point, and you were now the one trapping her against the closet door. Her blue eyes peer into yours looking for any sign of deceit.

“You loved me?”

You close your eyes, “Don’t make me say it again. “

Regina doesn't have the words. She doesn't want to search for them. All she wants to do is kiss you. So, against her better judgment she hurriedly places her lips on yours.

You should push her away, tell her that this isn't an apology. Yet the only thing you can do is wrap your arms around her and pull her into you. The kiss is sloppy, and it sends you both into a frenzy. Neither of you break it even when you both know better.

When the door to the closet is violently yanked open, is when you finally pull away from each other. Aaron stands there looking between yourself and Regina. The blonde yanks the door back shut, and you drop to the floor as embarrassment sets in.

“Fuck, I have to go,” you say trying to pull yourself together.

“You can’t go we haven’t talked,” Regina tries to block you.

This time you’re gentle as you move her aside, “There’s nothing to talk about Gina. You were right, I thought I could handle the heartbreak, but this is too much.”

Leaving the closet your jaw clenches as you see Cady down the hall. Her attention that was on Aaron, shifts to you. Her eyes go wide as she begins to figure out what happened in the closet. You don't give her the chance to comfort you opting to leave the school entirely.

Maybe it was time to embrace the school’s politics. Becoming the outcast, loner, weirdo didn’t sound so bad anymore. Anything to keep you away from The Plastics and The Art Freaks. You didn’t want to deal with either side ever again.

Just like you had done with Regina you ignored all of Cady, Janis, and Damian’s messages. You and the block button had never been any closer. At school you resumed having your lunch outside away from the drama and stuffy cafeteria.

In class you kept your focus on the teacher ignoring any notes or whispers from the trio. It was a challenge, but it was for the best.

You kept your head down when walked the halls and your earbuds in. If you kicked out the outside world then it was like it didn’t exist. You should’ve been paying more attention.

That’s the thought that crosses your mind as you trip right in front of Regina George. You expect to hit the floor dramatically but are surprised when you feel her hands at your waist keeping you upright.

The entire school watches with bated breath waiting for your fate. You too, are curious to see how the queen bee will treat you with the public watching.

“Watch it… loser,” she mumbles, making sure to shove you lightly out of her way.

You can tell her heart isn’t in it, but it looks normal to the public. In some ways it looked like you got a warning, which Regina was kind enough to give to most people.

You didn't dwell on it much. She probably had bigger things to worry about with the talent show happening so soon. The Plastics never missed a year of doing their kind of provocative and surely cringe-inducing dance routine.

Extra credit was being offered in most of your classes for students who went. So, you had decided to go to boost up your grades.

On the night of the talent show, you take a seat in the back row. Most of it is uninspiring. You hate to admit that you really enjoyed Damian’s rendition of the Icarly theme song. It was weird, but in that sort of niche artistic way that made it cool to you.

When The Plastics get on stage you’re surprised to see Cady with them. It was unsurprising to see everyone recording the performance. You’re sure some weirdos would be glad to have that performance at their disposal.

It is more difficult to watch this year than the previous. Something is more off key than usual. When the cartwheel spot is being set up you see Karen’s knee buckle first then Regina slams into the floor.

When she does, the crowd erupts. You shoot out of your seat as well. This is her worst nightmare. In a digital era, there’s no way that this isn’t going to go viral.

You don’t know why you’re running out of the theater, but you are. You didn’t know where to look for her, but she had to come to her car. You stand outside the pink jeep for what feels like an eternity.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before you could make out the figure of the crying blonde. You wait for her to get closer before attempting to say anything.

“Regina-”

She tries snapping at you, but it doesn’t pack much of a punch behind the tears, “It’s pretty funny, isn’t it? I bet you enjoyed every second of it.”

“Give me your keys,” you say without pause.

“What?”

“It’s dangerous to drive under intense emotion. Give me your keys, so I can take you home,” you reiterate.

Regina wants to question it, but she doesn’t want to ruin tonight even more. She put her keys in your hands. You don’t say anything else, simply waiting for her to get in the car.

When she does, you begin driving to her house. You can see her scrolling through her phone, so you snatch it from her at a red light.

“Stop,” you tell her, knowing she’s looking at her viral moment.

When you get to her house you follow her to her room. She faceplants on her bed and you watch as her body begins to vigorously shake with sobs.

You sit next to her your hand rubs her back soothingly, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You’re not happy that your bestie usurped me,” she says sarcastically.

“I haven’t spoken to Cady, since the closet thing happened,” you admit to her.

She wiped her eyes, “Why not?”

“Well Cady’s the one who told Aaron to check the closet,” you tell her.

“That bitch.”

You nod, “Yeah, I know that she and Janis wanted revenge, but that was low.”

Regina’s eyebrow furrows, “What are you talking about?”

You fill her in on everything and you can see her get angrier at every word.

“You didn’t think to warn me?”

You fight back, “Last time I checked they were failing. I wasn’t in on the planning, and I don’t even know all that they did. But also, I don’t owe you anything Regina.”

Her tongue clicks against her cheek, “I guess that’s fair.”

You speak again, “I don’t really know why I’m here if I’m being honest with you. I saw you hit the floor, and I just felt like I needed to be here for you.”

Regina laughs softly, “Even after all of this, you’re still thinking about how I feel.”

You laugh too, “I don’t think I can help it. I mean you are the Regina George, massive deal and all that.”

She shakes her head, “Not after this. I will never be her again.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

She looks at you, “I mean it doesn’t feel great, to be embarrassed for the whole world to see.”

“Fair point, but what is it they say about the head that wears the crown. Aren’t you a little bit relieved that you don’t have to be perfect anymore?”

She shrugs, “I guess so. My heart hasn’t been inn it since the last time we talked.”

“Regina, I don’t know if now is the time to-"

Her eyes lock on yours, “Please.”

Reluctantly you nod your head.

“I’m not a caring person. I don't usually give a fuck about anything but myself. I’m selfish and ruthless and cruel and mean. I really am everything that these people are saying about me. Except when it comes to you. I care about you more than I’ve cared about anything in a long time.”

She looks at you to make sure you're really hearing her.

“Kissing Aaron was so fucking stupid. I felt threatened by Cady and in truth I acted how I usually would. But I forgot to consider your feelings because I’m not used to considering others. I knew I fucked up and I wanted to fix it, but you were avoiding me. So, I kept the act because if I lost you at least I still had my power.”

“So, you care about your power more than me?”

Regina frowns, “No, I don’t, that’s what I’m trying to say. In that closet when you told me you loved me, it was like everything just clicked into place. We got carried away and then you left, but if you would’ve stayed just a second longer, I could’ve told you I loved you too.”

“Regina-”

“I’m almost done I promise. I could’ve told you any time after the fact, but it felt selfish. I was trying to do the right thing for once. You said that I hurt you too much and you were right. So, I thought it didn’t matter. I still don’t know if it matters, but if this is the last chance I have to say it, Y/n I love you.”

Your heart could come out of your chest at Regina’s admission. You’d love nothing more than to just pull her in and kiss, but something was stopping you.

“I love you too Gina, but what does that mean for us?”

Regina takes your hand in hers, “I want to be with you. Not just on the beach, but here, everywhere.”

You can sense there’s something she wanted to say, “But…”

“But I want to deal with the situation at school first. I want to change, but I still have to be mean for a while. I don't know if you’ll like that side of me,” Regina looks at her bedsheets.

You let a tiny smile come over your features, “I’m not really into school politics. So, I don't mind if you’re still a little mean. As long as you don't care that I want to be by your side.”

Regina has a smile that matches yours, “I like the thought of you by my side.”

“Good, because I don't plan on leaving.”

You can't wait any longer. You take her face in both of your hands and kiss her softly. Regina melts against your lips. It’s not like the kiss in janitors, it’s closer to your first kiss together. There’s a slight hesitation, but it’s not enough to stop.

“I love you,” she says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

You stayed at Regina’s pretty late that night. It was so late that by the time you got home you were exhausted. When your alarm went off in the morning, you snored right through it. You ended up making it to your third period right before the bell rang to start class.

You took your seat next to Cady. Something about her was different. She looks like Regina, more than usual. She wasn't paying any attention during class, to preoccupied with her makeup.

“What’s up with her?” You say to Janis, who sits directly behind you.

“Oh, well hello to you too stranger.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Janis.”

The artist shrugs, “I don't know. After last night I called game on the revenge, but Cady said she needed one more day.”

You frown, “Is worldwide embarrassment not enough? She’s viral all over the internet for her fall.”

“I thought so, but this is all Cady,” there’s some hint of worry in her tone.

You want to talk to the ginger, but the moment the bell rings she's out of the class. Once you’re out of class you head to the cafeteria for lunch. As you’re standing in line waiting for the food the loud chatter of the cafeteria drops.

You lift your head up to see why; it’s Regina. She’s not in her usual attire opting for something more comfortable, but just as cute in your opinion. She walked over to her usual table but was stopped from sitting.

You couldn't hear the conversation, but you did hear as Regina’s friend yelled, “You can’t sit with us.”

Nobody in the cafeteria moves to make space for the girl. Her mean nature finally biting her in the ass. You set your lunch tray down loudly, causing the attention to shift to you.

You hate the way everyone looks on, as you make your way towards Regina. Standing by her side in front of the entire school felt strange.

You hold your hand out for her to take and she does. You glare hits all the girls’ sitting at The Plastics table before lingering on Cady, “Let’s go outside, it’s stuffy in here anyway.”

Regina let you drag her out of the cafeteria towards the front of the school. You found a shady spot under the tree and sat there.

“You want me to sit on the ground?”

You look at her and then pat your lap, “You could always sit here instead.”

She takes a seat on the grass next to you, “I wouldn’t want to crush you. I’m so fat now.”

You frown and pull the girl into your lap. She squeals and tries to get away, but you lock your arms around her.

“Doesn’t feel like you’re crushing me.”

Regina looks away from you, “I’m wearing these sweats because I can’t fit any of my pants anymore. It doesn't make any sense because all I've been eating are these nasty bars that Cady gave me.”

You take the bar from Regina. The more you examine it the angrier you get.

“Don’t eat anymore of this shit.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

You feel your body growing hot with anger, “These are Kalteen bars. They’re for gaining weight.”

Regina’s facial expression darkens, “What?”

“I’m going to kill her. This is too far,” you start to stand, but Regina stops you.

“I will handle it,” Regina’s calm tone is unnerving, but Cady deserves whatever hell Regina invokes on her for this.

“Ok, but I’m here if you need me,” you squeeze her lightly.

“Thank you, baby. Not just for being here, but for what you did in the cafeteria. I know you don’t like the attention,” she places a kiss on your cheek.

You blush at her praise, “I don’t like it, but I wasn’t going to stand idly by why Cady tried to humiliate you in front of everyone again.”

“I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Karma will get her soon enough and her world will be burnt to a crisp,” Regina’s smile is small yet sadistic.

Maybe a few hours ago you would’ve warned Regina about taking it too far. Potentially you would have said something about the moral high ground. However, upon learning about the weight gaining bars, you decided that Cady needed to be humbled quickly.

You and Regina decide to ditch the rest of the school day. You spend the day at her house watching tv in her bed. It only takes a few episodes before you fall asleep, still feeling some grogginess from your morning.

After a few minutes of your soft snores, Regina begins her plot. She knew this would not only destroy Cady, but the entire population of girls at the school. They deserved it after the talent show and lunch today. If they thought she was a problem when she was mean, nothing could prepare them for when she felt vindictive.

“What’re you doing so far away,” you yawn and make grabby hands at the blonde.

“This is called full proof revenge,” she holds up the burn book.

Your eyes widen as you read ‘this girl is a fugly cow’, “Oh shit.”

“Come here.”

You follow her orders. She opens the book to a page that has your name and your picture, but no description, “Where’d you get this picture of me?”

Regina shakes her head, “Not important. You need to write something mean about yourself here.”

You give her a questioning look, “Why?”

“Because it’ll look suspicious if you aren’t in it,” she hands you a marker.

You don't think about it too much as you write ‘Gay Loner Weirdo’ above the picture.

“Simple, elegant, classy,” you hand the marker back to her.

“Timeless if you will,” Regina jokes.

You nod feigning insight, “Yes, it was either that or Regina George sympathizer, but that felt too new. Gotta make them think I was always in there.”

The two of spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. It was a nice change for once. You found yourself thinking that you could get used to having Regina to yourself like this.

You expect chaos the next time you step onto campus, but you aren’t prepared for what you walk in to. The halls were a mess. Girls are fighting, running, and screaming everywhere you look.

“This is insane,” you whisper to yourself.

“This is what happens when you fuck with Regina George,” the girl appears by your side faux distraught on her features.

You don’t get to answer her before principal Duvall calls for all the girls in the gymnasium. A situation like this was unprecedented in the history of the school. So, it didn't surprise you that none of the faculty knew what to do about it.

They were trying some weird truth and unity trust fall that you thought was a shitty idea. Things were cringy at first, but it seemed like the message was working on a few girls.

When Janis gets up there things take a turn for the worst as she begins to air out Regina and Cady’s dirty laundry, “… and I find it so ironic because while Regina’s been calling me a pyro lez she's been busy having summer beach romances with Y/n. Pretty fucking gay if you ask me.”

She lets out a scream before falling into the arms of the student body who began changing her name and carrying her out.

The only students left in the gym were yourself, Cady, and Regina. Cady’s remorse finally manages to kick in and she starts to apologize. She doesn't get too far in before Regina storms off. You stay hot on her heels as Cady follows the two of you. Regina makes it all the way to the front lot before she turns around to start arguing with Cady.

The closer Cady gets to the blonde, the further Regina goes into the street. You’re somewhere in between trying to mediate the situation.

“Why don't we do this somewhere private for once? Where the while school isn’t involved,” you suggest.

“I don't have anything to say to her except that she's parading around as a cheaper version of me. She can imitate take it all, but she’ll never be as good as me,” Regina spits out.

“Regina, I’m-"

You look between the girl’s and that's when you see the bus coming from the corner of your eye.

“Regina!”

You scream her name, and your body moves on its own as you forcefully tackle the girl to the ground. You make sure to protect her head with your arms as you go down on the concrete. Everything feels like it’s slowed down as your arms connect with the concrete.

That feeling is nothing compared to the pain you feel in your leg. You cry out in pain at the feeling of your leg being run over by the bus.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Someone help, quit standing around like idiots. Call an ambulance or something, make yourselves useful,” Regina yells as the entire school looks on.

She repositions herself so that your head is in her lap as she holds your sobbing figure. She can’t help it as her own tears begin to fall.

When the ambulance comes, you’re loaded in and rushed to the hospital. As much as Regina fought to get into the ambulance, they wouldn't let her. She knew you were going to need surgery on your leg, it had to be completely broken. All she could do was worry and count down the moments until she would be able to see you.

It took a full day for you to wake up after the accident and another before you were allowed visitors. Regina was the first person there.

The first thing she did was kiss you, “Don’t ever do anything stupid like that again.”

You laugh tiredly, “I believe the words are thank you.”

“It’s not funny Y/n, you could’ve died.”

You readjust the bed to sit up straight, “I wasn’t going to let you get full on hit by a bus Gina. My leg will be fine after rehab. The doctor says I'm lucky that it broke clean, but I might have some permanent nerve damage.”

“But you'll still be able to walk?”

You nod, “It’ll take a few months, and I might have like a permanent limp, but I’ll be able to walk."

“You saved my life,” her hand interlocks with yours.

“I mean we don't know that. You could've survived being hit by the bus,” you joke further.

“Oh yeah, totally would've survived. Probably would be walking around with the hottest neck brace on the market,” she rolls her eyes.

“Super fetch neck brace,” you add.

She groans, “I love you, but you have to stop saying that.”

“I love you too, but I’m going to keep saying it,” you kiss the back of her hand.

Regina isn't the only one who stops to visit you. You’re a little surprised to see Cady stop by. The popular persona was nowhere to be seen. She looks the same as the first day you met her.

“I know you probably don't want to see me, but I came to apologize… for everything. I did exactly what you warned me not to and got caught up in the school politics,” she stands by the forest while she talks.

You motion for her to have a seat, and she does so cautiously. You let out a breath before addressing the girl, “I did warn you, but sometimes you have to make mistakes to learn and grow. When you sent Aaron to the closet, I was so upset with you. Maybe I could’ve forgiven you then, but your attitude just went downhill from there.”

“I know.”

“I’m not even mad about it anymore. I’m more upset about what you did to Regina. Some of that shit was pretty low, Cady,” you tell her.

“I know, I got caught up in Janis’s plan. I was so excited to have friends that I thought going along with it was ok, but it wasn't. What makes it even worse is that I got carried away and became someone I’m not. And now you're here in the hospital because of me,” she can’t look at you.

“Cady you weren't driving the bus.”

She stands her ground, “It’s the domino effect of my actions. No one would’ve been-"

You cut her off, “Cady this isn't your fault. You sound crazy. I literally kind of threw myself in the path of the bus. It was my choice, and I stand by it. Instead of taking accountability for things that aren’t your fault, maybe you should focus on the things that are your fault.”

“Like with Regina,” she says to herself.

“Regina, Janis, hell even Ms. Norbury. Apologize and mean it, that’s a step in the right direction,” you tell her.

“How do you always manage to have the right advice?”

“We're all just actual human beings at the end of the day Cady. Falling into these boxes that we think are desirable takes us out of the reality of the situation.”

She takes in your words and then stands, “I’m going to go work on being an actual human being. Maybe when it's all over, we can be friends again.”

You salute her playfully, “Go get em tiger.”

Despite your injury, time seems to go by in a blur. Rehab is hard and the handful of meds you have to take is annoying, but it’s worth it. You were doubtful about returning to campus before the end of the year, but you found yourself cleared a week before Spring Fling. You’d have to use a crutch, but for the most part you were alright.

“You know we don’t have to go to the dance, right? I’m content staying here and finally finishing Malcolm in the Middle,” Regina says as fixes the sleeves of your suit.

“I know, but I have to let my adoring public know that I’ve escaped the clutches of death.”

Regina stops her movements, “I’m being serious, Y/n."

You place a hand on her waist, “I want to go out and dance with you. Or at least attempt to.”

Regina blushes under your touch, “Might be a little difficult with the crutch.”

“It can sit on the bleachers for one dance,” your eyes are love-struck, staring at Regina.

Her face heats even more under your gaze, “Let’s go your adoring public awaits or whatever.”

For the second time in your school career all eyes seem to be on you as you enter the dance. It could be the fact that you looked good, or maybe that you were walking in with Regina George on your arm, or more likely that no one had seen you since the bus ran over your leg.

“Do people ever do anything besides staring,” you say to the blonde.

“Nope,” she pops the ‘p’ on the word.

You don't get particularly far into the dance floor on account of your crutch. Instead, you find yourself situated by the punchbowl. You urge Regina to go dance, which she does reluctantly.

“You know rumors were going around that you’d lost your leg,” Janis appears by your side.

You look down at your leg, “Still there.”

“Look I wanted to say I’m sorry for how everything played out. It wasn’t cool to try to involve you in the drama and I shouldn’t have said anything about your thing with Regina,” she apologizes.

“Apology accepted, I’m just ready to move on from everything,” you say earnestly.

“Janis,” Regina says cordially, as she puts herself in this conversation.

“Regina,” the girl answers in the same tone.

With a respectful nod the girl in the purple tux takes her leave.

“What was that about?”

“Well, I' told you that I wanted to change. The first part of that is making amends. Janis and I had a talk, we both apologized. So now, we’re civil with each other,” Regina reveals.

“That’s awesome baby, I’m proud of you.”

She looks away from you as embarrassment coats her face, “Yeah whatever, don’t you owe me a dance?”

You laugh and lean your crutch against the wall before offering her your hand. Your leg is strong enough for the two of you to sway together as a slow song plays.

“People are still watching, I think it’s the Regina George factor,” you say so only that she can hear.

“I don’t really mind it. It lets them know you’re mine.”

A goofy smile plants itself on your face, “Oh, am I?”

Regina nods, “All mine.”

You lean in closer to her, “Weird way to ask if I'll be your girlfriend, but I accept.”

Regina begins to sputter which keeps you smiling. The smug look on your face drives her crazy. She’s quick to place a soft kiss on your lips to regain some control of the situation.

“That��s so not fair,” you say against her lips.

“It’s girlfriend privileges,” she counters back.

When the song is over principal Duvall calls for the nominees for Spring Fling king and queen to go up on stage. You stand to the side and cheer loudly as your girlfriend gets on the stage. Tension slowly builds as the man reads of the kings name first before holding the envelope with the queen’s name in it.

Silence takes over the crowd as principal Duvall announces Cady as the queen of Spring Fling. When the girl gets on the stage, you notice she’s not dressed for the dance at all. The casual attire with a letterman jacket seems like a change of pace for her.

She takes the microphone and starts to apologize publicly to everyone she has wronged. She breaks the crown into pieces sharing it with the girls on stage. She also throws some pieces into the crowd before getting off the stage.

The ginger makes her way over to you and hands you a piece of the plastic crown, “Glad you could make it.”

You smile at her, “That was probably the corniest shit I have ever seen, but you seemed like an actual human being on that stage.”

“Learned from the best. I’m going to go talk to Janis, but I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you reassure her and watch as she goes off to continue righting her wrongs.

Regina comes not too long after Cady goes. She leans her back against you lightly and you wrap an arm around her.

“I'm ready for summer,” she mentions offhandedly.

“Why?”

She tilts her back to look up at you, “I'm ready to sit on the beach and relax with my extremely hot girlfriend.”

Her eyes sparkle as they peer into yours. This moment feels like it could last forever. You get to be with the Regina George in a room where anyone can see. Yet you resonate with her words deeply. Nothing sounds quite as good as having the girl all to yourself, soaking up the sun. You can almost see the book in your hand while the blonde rests her head in your lap.

“Me too.”

#lowkeyerror #regina george x reader #regina george #cady heron #janis ian #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #damian hubbard #gretchen wieners #karen smith #aaron samuels

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