#and delete anything spreading it further

[sleepboysummer]

On anon bc I might get torn apart but. THANK YOU FOR STANDING UP FOR LOWELL. It is NOT BAD. I watched it with my friend and there were SO many things we loved about it.

standing by this

i just recommend everyone to not spread it anymore because making it any bigger is just gonna breed more hate because that is what the internet does. even if you are being neutral or even positive. i dont think there is any situation when a literal highschool should be talked about this much and this widespread

[drdemonprince]

any advice for coping with being on the receiving end of a public callout ?

Oh yes:

Do not acknowledge the callout publicly. It will only further its spread, lend it legitimacy, cause you to be interpreted as guilty, and convey to anyone who bears you ill will that you are rattled and feeling socially threatened.

Do not act out of urgency. One of the ways that cancelled people get themselves in far worse trouble is by spiraling due to anxiety and rushing to issue a statement about what has happened, or to attempt to socially manage public impressions about what has happened. Do not do this. Anything that you say will be picked apart and used against you. The situation is truly not as urgent as it might feel. A lot of times, doing nothing and being quiet is the best way to proceed, and the dust will settle better if you do.

Do not issue a public apology. If you truly feel that you have wronged someone, that conflict should be worked out in private with the people you have directly affected. You do not owe the anonymous public audience a damn thing. Do not apologize for something you don't honestly believe that you have done wrong. Take time and really think about what happened, and seek the counsel of people whom you trust in PRIVATE.

Do not attempt to disprove the callout unless you have crystal clear, smoking gun evidence that the person who accused you is actually victimizing you. And even then, probably don't do it. I have only seen a disproof of a callout work ONCE, and that was when Juniper Abernathy revealed the person cancelling her had been abusing her. Even if the facts are on your side, acknowledging the accusations will only make more people aware of them, give your detractors ground to criticize your every word, and will muddy the waters and make people find the situation confusing and troubling rather than clear.

GET THE FUCK OFFLINE. Delete your social media apps for the time being. Turn off notifications. Turn off DMs requests. Change your settings so that you only ever hear from people you already follow (I do this, on the advice of Philosophy Tube). Get away from the computer.

Connect with IRL friends. When you're wrapped up in a cancellation, the negative opinions of a handful of foaming at the mouth freaks loom way larger than they actually are. And social media dramatically skews our sense of social priorities such that the approval rating of complete strangers starts to seem more important than people we actually know, and trust, and who actually know us. Go get a meal with a buddy. Watch a dumb movie. Talk to your grandma about her plans for her garden. Surround yourself with real people you care about and focus on their life and problems, to help put things in perspective.

Find distracting, active, rewarding activities that bring you out of the digital space and into physical reality. Not everyone is talking about you, not everybody hates you, most people have no fucking clue what has been said about you, and most people do not give a fuck about you (that's good). There are so many areas of life that are completely fucking untouched by what a bunch of social media power users have to say online. Go volunteer to clean up a park, run some errands, take an exercise class, foster a dog, regrout your bathroom, knit a hat. Even if the worst case scenario happens and a cancellation sticks, it's really only among a certain very vocal group of miserable fucking people. There is a whole world around you that will not ever care, and you will have a life outside of this.

Good luck!!

[kiestrokes]

Smut Shots: Rock with you | NSFW

🍒 Pairing: Boyfriend!Choi Seungcheol of SVT x Girlfriend!Reader/You/Yn 🍒 Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. 🍒 Word Count: 2,414 🍒 Genre: one shot, drabble, smut, PWP. 🍒 Warnings: cursing, boyfriend/girlfriend dynamics, google docs is doing this annoying thing of changing every tense of you to you're, so if you see that please just ignore it, it is one I didn't catch.

🍒 Sexually Explicit Content: cockwarming, penis in vagina, edging, multiple orgasms, slight orgasm control, overstim (obvi it's my fave), ass smacking, hair pulling, kissing/french kissing, talk of semen/female ejac, no condom used, slightly rough but not in the realm of true pain kink, Scoups has stamina. Let me know if I missed anything.  

🍒 Summary: You had very good dream, and the only thing that can put you back to sleep is being filled by your boyfriend.

🗝️ Note: Still not technically here, did look at the queue after the KIoF anon from this morning, it will run out soon and all KIoF and BM content has been deleted. It was legit only the post from yesterday. Just tossing this Scoups smut into the void for anyone that finds it to enjoy. Happy bunny-candy-egg-zombie Jesus holiday.

💿 Text Me by DPR LIVE 📰 Read it on Ao3! 🔥 Smut Shots: Mini Masterlist

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols below. 

You whine, low and needy as you surface from your steamy dream. Hands searching blindly behind you for your boyfriend.

Seungcheol grunts appreciatively, hips rutting into your hand as you palm over his boxers.

“Coups,” you dip a hand beneath the band, successfully fisting his semi-hard length.

Seungcheol mumbles your name in a sleep-coated baritone .

“I need you inside me,” you subtly beg, but it falls on drowsy, deaf ears.

Seungcheol sluggishly helps you slip his boxers off, your breathing shallowing at the feel of his hot skin pressing into your ass. Seungcheol’s warm breath fans over your ear, spreading goosebumps down your bare arms and thighs.

“What do you need, Jagi?” He clicks his tongue drowsily.

You drape a leg backwards over his thigh, hand slipping between your legs to find his waiting erection. Cheol moans as you rub him through your damp folds, before sinking him into your pussy with his help. Satisfied he is secure enough, you drop your leg and tuck yourself back against him, hand between your legs to guide him further into you.

Seungcheol’s breathing comes out in shortened pants, toned arm slipping to wrap around your hips as he presses into your tight heat. A few pulses later the two of you center yourselves together and drift back off to sleep, intimately interlocked.

-

You wake three hours later, to Seungcheol hard and leaking inside you. His hips shuddering in effort not to move, broad body folded around you, holding you tight against him.

Seungcheol nuzzles the nape of your neck, “good morning jagi.”

Your clit twitches at the snug feel of him inflated inside you. Your entrance has tightened back around him while you slept and he grew. Both of you start with some slow squirming that escalates into grinding and then flat out thrusting against each other.

You don’t quiet your moans, something far beyond neediness overtaking you. Gripping his thigh so that you can begin working him in and out of your pussy.

Seungcheol groans, grabbing your hips to brace himself, creating a steady base for your actions. As you arch your spine to roll his cock around with drawn out circles of your hips until he can't take it and is pressed flush against your back. His knees tucking in behind yours and pressing his pelvis tight against your ass. You moan as his hips angle deeper than before.

“Jagi-” he rasps, tongue flicking out against the lobe of your ear.

Then his hands are up your baggy shirt, just grazing your breasts and teasing the nipples. So that you brush against his knuckles with each forward thrust, your nails embedding briefly into his thigh before slipping around to palm his ass.

He finally graces you with his touch by cupping a breast and you shudder against him. Squeezing internally and Seungcheol groans pinching your nipple as you rub yourself harder in his lap. Foregoing your controlled strokes for sloppy slaps until your orgasm starts to crest over both of you.

Your neck snaps back, pressing your cheek into your pillow and exposing your neck to Seungcheol which he grasps. Hammering up into you in what you think is to chase your releases.

When suddenly, momentarily the tension is lost, Seungcheol pulls out to shove one thigh up and straddle your other one so that you’re lying on your side with him ready to drill into you from above.

His hands firm on the divide of your hips and thigh as he bullies his way back inside you, causing you to seize at the intrusion and clutch his wrist as he wastes no time setting an invasive stroke into your slick insides.

"Cheol-ahhh!"

“Driven me crazy for an hour, hugging my dick so tight. I’m not letting you come so quick, want you to come hard for me,” he groans, landing a slap to your exposed cheek.

You moan, body stiffening at the delicious bite of his hit. Starting to feel the hot coil tightening in your stomach again so quickly.

Seungcheol smirks wickedly down at you, slipping a hand between your thighs to rub brutally at the sensitive bundle of nerves that sit at the top of your vulva.

Before slamming in and out of you until you stiffen at the direct and insistent contact your hand grabbing at his. When the band almost snaps, he pulls his hand away, hips slowing to taunting circles.

His ragged “hngh fuck,” as he fights off his orgasm. Still stroking, hands bruising into the back of your thigh as he shudders through it.

Seungcheol is not done yet, he rolls you onto your back to lay between your thighs. His arms slipping under your shoulders, hands tangling in your hair as he kisses you.

Tongue rolling into your mouth as his hips rock against yours gently. Slowly building up your climax again. Each thrust pressing firmly into your swollen clit until you’re tightening around him again.

“That's it, jagi.”

One hand twists into his hair as your nails dig into his ass as you wait to explode around him.

His dark brows are a stark contrast for the fluff blonde hair woven between your fingers, form a valley as he pouts. A choked version of your name rumbles out of his mouth as you spasm around him.

“Seungcheol” you gasp.

Each nerve ending on your body awake, from the tips of your toes to the peaks of your nipples. Walls squeezing his leaking length.

“Feels so good,” you mewl and Cheol snaps his hips again.

Fighting through his own tension to pull more pleasure from your already wrecked body. You moan, pelvis rubbing shamelessly at his base.

“Come on baby, I know you have it in you,” he grunts rolling his hips into an upward angle.

Your back arches and you feel that elusive coil being cranked impossibly tighter. You groan as he repeats the motions, arching into him.

“Cheol,” you beg.

“Right here jagi, you have me,” he huffs with effort, his own body shaking.

Your body shudders and you collapse back on the bed.

“Deeper,” you plead.

“Always asking me to split you open,” Seungcheol obliges, lifting your legs around his neck, sinking into you, his eyes pinching shut as he slides home.

You reach down to spread yourself and Seungcheol hisses out your name as he bottoms out. He circles his hips and you gasp at the sensation. How wet you are from your half pulsed releases and his precum.

“I need-“

He knows what you need and folds you down for a kiss slipping out of you halfway at the angle but driving his hips upwards, putting all of his weight into the part of you that feels it most.

“Wanna come for me jagi?” Seungcheol rasps between kisses as you chase his pouty lips.

“Yes, fuck, please” you tense your calves on his shoulders to push back against his advances sinking him fully into you again.

The movement and tensing of your core lets you explode finally, with a sleep dry cry your orgasm drenching his length. Seungcheol moans at the rush of lubrication, hips slowing as he savors each drag.

“I love when you’re this wet” his eyebrows converge and he presses you deeper. “Can’t wait until I’m leaking out of you.”

You whine at his praise, body shuddering as your own arousal trails down the valley of your ass.

“This what you want, jagi? Me to fill you up?”

You moan and thrash against the bed through the echoes of climax, “Cheol, shhh not so dirty.”

He silences you with a kiss, hands braced on the bed on either side of your hips as he presses entirely into you again. Lips smirking against yours.

You gasp at the stretch his cock causes at your still fluttering entrance, body continuing to shuddering uncontrollably. His mouth parts as he watches you fall apart pressing impossibly tighter against your trembling body.

“You're so tight,” he pants, “feels so good when you're clamped around me so tight.”

His strokes are deep and lingering. Your swollen and over teased insides trying to push him out. Fixing you a delirious feel for each veiny ridge of his stiff member.

Seungcheol is quickly losing it to you, his body damp with sweat, chest flushed with all the effort he had displayed. His body shakes as he drags himself in and out of your release.

“Just a little more, jagi-” he grunts.

You nod clutching his forearms as he presses you into the bed heavily on your hips, marking them with something you’ll feel later.

“Cheol!”

He lets out a breathy smile, repeating his thrust with a satisfying wet slap. You bow off the bed, and he hammers into you quickly in response.

“So close, jagi.”

“Ahh-I know.”

And you do know, Seungcheol mocks you for always asking for him to split you open, but you swear he wants to crawl inside you when he's close. Fingers sunken into your skin, leaving tingling bruises you can touch for days. Hips pistoning his impossibly hard dick in and out of your tightened cunt. Always waiting for you, eyes locking with yours and sending the both of you over as he slams into you.

He lets out the most guttural version of your name as his hips jerk against the back of your thighs, spilling a heavy load into you. Powerful thighs and ass still working until your body limps under his from you're own muscle fatigue from the edging. Letting you're legs fall uselessly to the bed from their previous perch on his shoulders.

Seungcheol breathes a soft moan as he collapses over you, hips rolling softly as your pussy still seizes around him. Your fingernails dip into the supple swells of his back muscles. As his face burrows in your neck, fingers tracing your jawline.

“Fuck,” you sigh peacefully.

Seungcheol laughs and you both groan as you feel it deep in your joined sexes.

“Give me a minute and we can go again.”

He means a literal minute, dick only flagging slightly inside you before swelling right back up between your lazy kisses, teasing petting of each other's bodies and subtle grinding.

You tug his face up to yours rolling him over onto his back and start to bounce. His hands fist your hips drawing you back down sharply into his thrusts.

“Cheol!” You gasp as your body bows in the air.

He’s stiff under you lips bitten between his teeth, “harder jagi, please”

You brace your hands on his chest and snap your hips roughly, earning a ragged sigh from Seungcheol. His hands fanning up your back to cup the nape of your neck and thrust back. You gasp as the tingling hits the rest of your body.

“Yes, yes!”

Your body trembles at the desperation in his voice. Hips slamming into your ass and backs of your thighs as he barrels toward his high.

“So close, jagi.”

His big eyes glossy with want as he grunts and his frame starts to shake. Head tossing back into the pillow as he rakes both hands down your back to grip your ass, spreading the cheeks and deepening his thrusts.

“Not yet-” you brace you hand to his chest.

“You want another full one?”

“Yes,” you press a hand to your stomach and Seungcheol presses too. Your head lolls back between your shoulders at the added pressure.

“Fuck!”

Your eyes snap to his, his eyes trained on your pussy and you look down to see a thick, creamy ring forming around his base. Both of your releases coating him, you sit back a little to give him a better view.

“Jagi-“ Seungcheol groans, eyes jumping to yours.

His face contorts into his signature pout as you continue to put on a show for him.

“What Cheol?”

“Fuck me, please, no more teasing.”

He scoops you to him then, not waiting for your response, sitting up so you’re working in his lap. Arms tangling around each other's bodies as you let go of your civility. Pounding into his lap, Seungcheol meets your thrusts slap for lewd slap.

Shakily your lips meet for haphazard kisses until you give up, fingers twisting in the hair on the back of his head and pulling hard so that he gasps.

“I’m close, I’m close, fuck I’m so close just a little more.”

Your body vibrates in effort to fight off your own orgasm, mouth finding his and hips twisting into sensual circles as you fight him for oral dominance. Losing when he ruts hard into you, repeating the motion until you stiffen against him as you're pussy clamps around his cock. You pull back to find him smirking at having sent you over first; again.

“Oh god,” you wail as you tip over, squirting around Seungcheol's impaling, falling back in his arms as your orgasm crests.

“So good jagi, you did so good,” he moans, hips rolling as he chases his orgasm.

His hand crawling up to grasp the back of your neck to gain new leverage and hold you tight into his thrusts. As you float above your bodies at the feeling being fucked into ecstasy as your orgasms stack.

His eyelids shuttering when he shoots his second load into your insides. Groaning and thrusting through his own orgasm, forever need that teeth tingling feel of overstimulation.

“Shit, jagi.”

You gasp, clenching at the sight of him, your hips stutter into working him through his climax until he hugs you to him. He pouts again, body hot to the touch as you send him over. His hands spasming where they clench your hips, your body clenches him dry, walls a tight vise around his pulsing length.

“Stop, stop,” he gasps as his body shakes, releasing a dry orgasm into you as you seat yourself firmly in his lap, thighs squeezing his sides.

Cunt fluttering around him as he throbs against your tight walls. You roll your hips and he lets out a groan, thighs shaking under your ass.

Seungcheol moans into your skin, lips collecting the sweat between your breasts.

“I'm afraid to pull out.”

“Could just go back to sleep like this, you feel so nice, so full-hngh,” you hum rubbing yourself against him.

Seungcheol groans, and his body trembles.

“We’re never getting out of bed today if you keep this up.”

You grin as he pulls your face to his for a kiss.

“Maybe that was my plan all along.”

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2025 by kiestrokes

All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

No generative artificial intelligence (AI) was used in the writing of this work. The author expressly prohibits any entity from using this for purposes of training AI technologies to generate text, including without the limitation technologies capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this publication. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

[angelsuecult]

it ain’t me babe | s. crosby

“Go melt back in the night, babe

Everything inside me is stone”

warnings: none.

summary: the aftermath of a wedding has you left wondering where your relationship with sidney is going.

request: We need Sid and younger girlfriend attending a wedding 👀 here realizing that maybe Sid should see other people angsty slow burn fluff smut maybe?

word count: 5.6k

song: it ain’t me - joan baez 

a/n: i hope you guys like this one! Im pretty proud of it. ALSO WHAT IS A TAGLIST?? I WANT TO DO IT BUT IDK WHAT IT IS I PROMISE IM NOT INTENTIONALLY OVERLOOKING IT I JUST DO NOT KNOW WHAT THAT IS!! SOMEBODY PLS LMK.

previous part | part two

—

The apartment falls quiet. Too quiet.

You go through the motions of getting ready for bed on autopilot.

Hair undone, makeup wiped away, heels abandoned somewhere in the living room a problem for tomorrow.

You exhale slowly as you sit on the edge of your bed, rubbing your hands over your face. The weight of the night presses against your shoulders, heavy and unrelenting.

Now you’re in pajamas—one of Sidney’s t-shirts and a pair of fuzzy pants that you had grabbed blindly from your drawer. The shirt is soft, worn down from years of washes, and smells just like him.

It makes your chest ache.

You should be exhausted. It’s late. Your body is tired, but your mind won’t shut up.

You shuffle around your apartment, turning off the lights one by one, until the only one left is the glow from your bedroom lamp.

And then, just before you head to bed, you do something completely fucking stupid.

You pull back the curtain and peek through your window.

Sidney’s gone.

You don’t know what you were expecting.

Of course he left.

You don’t know how long he sat out there, parked in the same usual spot, engine idling. But now there’s nothing. Just an empty space where his car had been.

Why would he still be out there? You gave him nothing to work with. No explanation. No indication of what the hell went wrong tonight.

Just shut down completely, locked yourself up tight, and now you’re surprised that he left?

It shouldn’t make you feel as lonely as it does.

But it does.

You let the curtain fall shut, swallowing the lump in your throat as you climb into bed.

Your sheets are cold when you slip beneath them, sending a shiver down your spine. It makes you curl up tighter, instinctively seeking the warmth of him.

Sidney’s pillow is right there.

It smells like him.

Like his cologne, his shampoo—like home.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to shut out the ache that spreads through your chest.

Your phone is on your nightstand.

You curl into yourself further, phone in your hand, thumb hovering over the screen.

There’s nothing from Sidney.

Of course there isn’t. 

You open your messages anyway, staring at the empty text box.

You don’t know what to say.

You don’t even know if you should say anything.

You type something out. Delete it. Type it again.

I love you. I’m sorry.

Backspace.

I miss you. I’m sorry.

Backspace.

Goodnight. I’m sorry.

Backspace.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, but no words come out. So you toss your phone onto the mattress.

You really did want to go home with him tonight.

You did.

But no matter how badly you want to be in his bed right now, tangled up in his sheets, wrapped up in his warmth—you just couldn’t bring yourself to go home with him tonight.

Not when it didn’t feel right.

Something in you just—couldn’t.

Not when the night had left you feeling so fucking out of place. Like you had no right to be in his life.

So instead, you’re here. Alone. Holding onto his pillow like it’s the only thing keeping you together.

And then it happens. A knock that barely registers at first.

Your eyes are closed, you’ve been hovering in that in-between space—half asleep, half awake, mind slipping into unconsciousness when the sound filters through the quiet. You don’t move. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe it’s something outside.

And again.

A slow, deliberate knock.

Your stomach twists because you already know who it is.

For a second, you think about just staying in bed, pulling the covers over your head, pretending you didn’t hear it. It’s late. Whatever he has to say can wait until morning.

But you know Sidney.

And Sidney doesn’t just go when something doesn’t sit right with him.

You sigh, pushing yourself upright. The hardwood is cool against your bare feet as you shuffle to the door, barely awake, heart pounding. You don’t bother checking the peephole. There’s no point.

You hesitate for a second, fingers hovering over the handle. There’s a moment where you consider taking a breath, preparing yourself, but you don’t give yourself the chance. You pull it open.

Sidney’s standing there.

He looks—frustrated. Tense. His jaw is clenched, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, and his eyes sweep over you, taking in the way you’re dressed in his t-shirt, the sleep still lingering on your face.

His shoulders drop the slightest bit, like he was holding his breath without realizing it.

“Are you gonna let me in?” he asks, voice low.

You step aside without a word, and he walks in, waiting until you close the door before he turns to you.

He lets out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “What’s going on?”

You blink. “What?”

Sid exhales sharply, dragging a hand over his face. “What the fuck is going on with you tonight?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sid scoffs, lips pressing into a tight line. “Seriously?”

You fold your arms, the weight of exhaustion settling into your bones. “It’s late, Sid.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he mutters. “I’ve been driving around the block for almost an hour trying to figure out what the hell just happened.”

You swallow, shifting your weight. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me why the fuck you suddenly decided you didn’t want to come home with me,” he says. “I want to know why you shut down, why you acted like you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

“I didn’t—” You exhale sharply, running a hand over your face. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

You look away, focusing on the floor, the wall, anywhere but him. You hate that you’re making him feel like this.

Sidney exhales through his nose, his patience thinning. “I don’t get it, okay? I don’t fucking get it. We were fine when we got there. You looked happy. You were joking around with me in the car, messing with the radio, making fun of my suit. And then suddenly—” He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t even know. You spent the whole night by yourself.”

You close your eyes.

“And then you thank me for a ‘great night’ like I’m some fucking Uber driver?” He lets out a humorless laugh. “What the fuck, Y/n?”

You shift your weight, suddenly feeling too exposed, too cornered. “I’m just tired, Sid.”

“Tired?” He lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “That’s what we’re calling it?”

You cross your arms. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Sid’s jaw tics. “I want you to talk to me.”

Your throat tightens.

His voice is rough around the edges, threaded with frustration, but it’s not anger. Not really.

It’s concern.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say, hating the way your voice wavers at the end.

Sid’s eyes narrow, like he can hear it too.

He shakes his head. “Bullshit. Jesus, I feel like I’m losing my mind here. You shut down out of nowhere, and now I’m standing here at one in the morning trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong.”

Guilt twists in your stomach.

You didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

But now you’re standing here, and he’s looking at you like he’s trying to put together a puzzle that doesn’t make sense, and you have to spell it out for him.

You have to say it out loud.

And the fact that you have to spell it out for him makes you feel like absolute shit. What’s so difficult to understand here? Doesn’t he know?

Your nails dig into your arms as you squeeze them tighter across your chest, pulse thrumming in your ears. You can feel the frustration clawing its way up your throat, hot and bitter, but you don’t know how to say it without it coming out wrong.

Because what’s the point of not telling him at this point?

Why are you still trying to swallow this down like it’s nothing? Like you weren’t sitting at that fucking table alone for half the night, smiling through gritted teeth while women old enough to be your mom compared you to a fucking escort? Like you didn’t have to sit there and pretend it was all fine while your own date couldn’t even be bothered to check in with you?

And now here he is. Confused. Sidney is staring at you, waiting. His hands are in his pockets, but his whole stance is tense, shoulders drawn tight, brow furrowed. Acting like he has no fucking clue why you suddenly wanted to go home. Like he doesn’t realize how humiliating it is to be borderline ignored by him and, in turn, everyone else.

And maybe it’s that. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t get it. The way he’s standing there so fucking confused, waiting for you to explain why you feel like absolute shit instead of just knowing.

So you let it out.

You let out a short, sharp breath, shaking your head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Sid’s jaw tightens. “No. I don’t. That’s why I’m here.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow in your chest.

“Jesus Christ, Sidney.” You step back, running a hand through your hair. “You’re—You’re Sidney fucking Crosby. The most important guy in the room, in every fucking room you walk into, and I get that, okay? I understand how this shit works by now.”

Sid doesn’t say anything, but his brows pull together, his mouth pressing into a firm line.

“I just wish I could’ve spoken more than a single fucking word to you tonight,” you say, and you don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does, but you’re tired. You’re tired.

Sidney blinks. “What?”

“I looked like a fucking idiot,” you snap, your voice trembling with something you don’t even want to name. “Sitting at that table alone, smiling at people who barely looked at me, waiting for my own fucking date to talk to me for more than five seconds before he got pulled into another goddamn hockey story.”

His frown deepens. “That’s not fair—”

“Isn’t it?” you cut in, voice sharp. “Because from where I was sitting, it sure as hell felt like I was there for no other reason than to be ignored.”

Sidney exhales heavily, raking a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t ignoring you—”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, really? Because it sure as fuck felt like it.”

Sidney’s jaw tightens. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like that.”

You laugh, humorless. “Yeah, well, what you meant to do doesn’t really mean much when the result is me looking like a fucking idiot.”

Sidney’s eyes flicker with something—frustration, guilt, something else you can’t quite place. “No one thought you looked like an idiot.”

“Oh, no?” you say, and your voice is shaking now, not with tears, but with anger. “Because it sure fucking felt like everyone was in on some big joke I didn’t know about. The hooker comments, the midlife crisis jokes—”

His face hardens. “Who the fuck said that?”

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Sidney argues.

“No, it doesn’t,” you bite back. “Because that’s not the point! The point is that I was standing there smiling through my fucking teeth while these women talked to me like I was some kind of novelty, like I was some poor little thing who didn’t belong there, while you were ten feet away, completely oblivious.”

Sidney’s mouth presses into a thin line. “I didn’t know—”

“Exactly!” you cut in. “You didn’t know because you weren’t paying attention. You weren’t there.”

Sidney’s eyes darken. “That’s not fucking fair.”

You scoff. “Isn’t it?”

His hands finally come out of his pockets, and he gestures vaguely, expression tight. “You know how these things are. People pull me into conversations, I don’t always have control over—”

“I do know,” you interrupt. “I know exactly how these things go. I know you get dragged into conversations, I know it’s not intentional, I know all of that. But what you don’t seem to understand is how fucking humiliating it is to be borderline ignored by your own date—to be ignored by everyone else because of it.”

Sidney’s jaw tics. “I wasn’t—”

“You know what’s not fair?” You take a step closer, jabbing a finger toward his chest. “The only actual fucking conversation I had tonight wasn’t even with a guest—God forbid—no, it was with the fucking coat boy.”

Sid’s face tightens. “Coat—” He exhales sharply. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

You throw up your hands. “Jesus, Sid, do you hear yourself? It means you barely fucking spoke to me, Sidney! How many godddamn times do I have to spell it out for you?”

Sidney huffs out a breath, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t—what do you want me to say? That I should’ve been glued to your side all night?”

“No,” you snap. “I wanted you to act like you wanted me there.”

He stares at you, something flickering in his expression, something frustrated but also—guilty.

“And before you say some shit like ‘Why didn’t you just come over to me? Why didn’t you just talk to me?’ Why the fuck should I have to?”

Sidney flinches. Just barely.

You swallow, your breath coming a little too fast. “Why should I have to beg my own date to acknowledge me?” Your voice cracks slightly at the end, but you push forward. “Why the fuck did you even bring me if you didn’t want to talk to me?”

Sidney shakes his head. “That’s not what it was.”

“Then what the fuck was it? Because you invited me, remember?”

Sidney looks at you, and there’s something in his expression—something frustrated, something aching. Like he wants to fix it but doesn’t know how.

Your breath is coming out uneven now, chest rising and falling with every word you force out, every ounce of frustration and hurt bubbling over. Sidney is just looking at you, his jaw clenched so tight you think he might crack a tooth, hands flexing open and closed at his sides. And it only pisses you off more because—because say something, for fuck’s sake. Say anything. Defend yourself. Fight with me. Do something.

But he just stares.

And you—god, you can’t. You’re too tired, too drained, too fucking done with feeling like this, feeling like you’re just… there. Like a placeholder, like a pretty little accessory to sit at his side while everyone else in the room actually matters.

So you let it spill out.

“I’m not the one you want, Sid.”

His entire face drops, mouth parting slightly like you just knocked the fucking wind out of him. And maybe you did. Maybe that’s what it takes to make him finally fucking see.

You laugh, but it’s not funny. It’s not even bitter, just… hollow. “I’m not the one you need, either. And that was made pretty fucking clear tonight.”

Sidney shakes his head immediately, taking a step forward, but you step back just as fast, arms tightening around yourself. “That’s not true.”

“But it is,” you say quietly, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “And you would know that if you actually listened to anything anyone said tonight.”

His brows draw together. “What the fuck does that mean?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I couldn’t get a fucking word in with you tonight, Sid. Not one. And you know why? Because I don’t matter in that world.”

Sidney’s expression darkens, and his voice drops lower, more serious. “That’s not fucking true.”

“But it is,” you argue, eyes burning now. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, I’m not even saying it’s something you did on purpose, but it’s just… how it is. I was there, I was at that table, but I might as well have been a fucking ghost. And you—”

Your voice cracks, just a little, and you have to pause, have to force yourself to swallow down the lump in your throat before you can go on.

“You didn’t notice me, Sid. You didn’t talk to me. You didn’t ask me to dance, and maybe it was because you forgot or maybe it was because you didn’t want to, but it doesn’t really matter either way, does it?” You shake your head, breathing out a humorless laugh. “You didn’t even sit down to have dinner with me.”

Sidney closes his eyes for half a second like he’s trying to keep his frustration in check. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you interrupt, voice quieter but no less sharp. “But you did. And that’s why I can’t even talk to you about this.”

Sidney lets out a breath, one hand dragging down his face, and when he looks at you again, his eyes are a little wilder, a little more desperate. “That’s bullshit. You are talking to me about it. Right now.”

You shake your head, exhausted. “Not really.”

His nostrils flare. “You think I don’t want you?”

You press your lips together, looking away.

Sidney steps forward, forcing you to look back at him. “No, seriously—do you actually think that? That I don’t fucking want you?” His voice is rough, raw. “Because that’s fucking insane.”

Your throat is tight, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing—his shirt. “Sid—”

“No,” he says, voice sharp. “You don’t get to say shit like that and then just shut down on me. What the fuck are you even saying right now?”

He exhales sharply, dragging both hands through his hair like he’s trying to physically hold himself together. His jaw is tight, his expression pulled with frustration, guilt, something raw and unspoken sitting heavy between the two of you.

And you don’t even know where to go from here.

Is this it? Is this how it fucking ends?

One bad night. One really, really bad night—so bad it’s made you question everything. So bad you’re standing here, your chest tight, your vision blurring, telling the man you love that you don’t think you’re the one he wants. The one he needs.

And it’s not like you don’t know how fucked up that sounds, how unfair it probably is. But it’s how you feel. And god, it just won’t go away.

Sid lets out a rough breath, shaking his head. “I can’t fucking believe this,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, pacing half a step before turning back, his eyes sharp, desperate. “This is really what you think? That I just—what? Forgot about you?”

You blink fast, your throat burning, voice quieter but still raw. “You did forget about me.”

Sid’s mouth presses into a hard line, his nostrils flaring slightly. “That’s not—Fuck, I didn’t forget about you, babe. I was just—”

“Busy?” you cut in, shaking your head. “Yeah, I know, Sid. I know you were busy. You’re always the most important guy in the room, and I get it. But Jesus, Sidney—” Your voice catches, and you take a shaky breath. “I sat there for hours just waiting for you to come back. Just waiting for you to maybe fucking look at me. And you didn’t. I had to sit there and smile while people made the butt of their fucking jokes, and I couldn’t even tell you about it, because you weren’t there. You weren’t even thinking about me.”

Sidney’s face twists, something like regret flashing across his expression. He shakes his head again, stepping forward, voice softer but no less urgent. “Baby, I—”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

Baby.

Your fucking weakness. But you push on.

“And maybe it wasn’t a big deal to you,” you press on, voice shaking now. “Maybe it was just one night to you, maybe I’m just making a fucking thing out of nothing, but—” Your breath stutters, and you have to look away, swiping roughly at your eyes. “But it didn’t feel like nothing, Sid.”

Sidney curses under his breath, the sound almost pained. “Jesus, baby,” he murmurs, stepping closer, reaching for you.

You shake your head, stepping back. “Don’t.”

Sid stops in his tracks, something breaking in his expression, like that physically hurt him.

Your stomach twists, and you swallow against the lump in your throat. “I don’t—I don’t know what to do with this, Sidney. I don’t know what this means.”

Sidney exhales slowly, his voice thick. “It means we fucking talk about it.”

Your throat tightens, something sharp and exhausted threading through you. “Do we? Because I’ve been trying to talk to you about it for the past thirty minutes and you still don’t seem to understand.”

Sid’s brows furrow, his face still tense, but his voice softer now, more pleading. “Babe—”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can sit in rooms full of people who look at me like I don’t fucking belong there. Who talk about me like I’m some kind of joke.” Your eyes are burning again, and you blink rapidly, shaking your head. “And I don’t know if I can do this when it feels like you don’t even fucking care.”

Sid looks wrecked. Absolutely fucking wrecked. His throat bobs, his hands tightening into fists before he forces them to relax. “Y/n, I’m—” His voice catches, and he exhales hard, taking another step toward you. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, looking away.

“No, look at me,” Sid says, his voice rough. “Please, baby, look at me.”

You hesitate, then finally meet his eyes.

And god, he just looks so fucking sorry.

“Y/n,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Your throat clenches, your chest so fucking tight it hurts.

Sid hesitates, like he’s giving you a second to pull away—to run, if that’s what you really want. But you don’t move. You can’t.

And then, slowly, so fucking slowly, he reaches for you.

“Come here,” he breathes, soft and pleading. “Please, baby. Just—just come here.”

And God help you, you do.

You don’t even think. You just go, letting him pull you in, letting him wrap his arms around you tight, like he’s terrified you’ll slip right through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on hard enough.

And fuck, it almost hurts how tightly he’s holding you, his grip firm and desperate, like an apology all on its own.

You squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face in his chest, and Sid lets out a shaky breath, pressing his face into your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice raw, breaking. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your throat clenches, and you swallow hard, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket.

Sidney exhales hard, arms tightening around you. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” he murmurs, voice thick. “God, I didn’t—fuck—I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t important, I swear.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice breaking on the last word. “I love you so fucking much, and I—I don’t know how the fuck I let this happen.”

Your chest tightens painfully, and you shake your head against him.

Sidney swallows hard, arms flexing around you. “You’re the most important fucking thing in the world to me,” he breathes, voice rough and aching. “And it’s not okay that you felt like that tonight. It’s not. I should’ve—I should’ve fucking been there.”

Your breath shudders out of you, and Sid lets out something close to a quiet curse, shifting slightly so that he’s cradling you now, one hand sliding up to the back of your head.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, like he’s trying to will it into you, like he’s trying to make you feel it. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You nuzzle into his shoulder, breathing him in, letting your fingers play at the soft hair at the nape of his neck, twisting the strands between your fingertips, memorizing the way they feel. Just in case. Like if you just press yourself deep enough into him, maybe—maybe—it won’t hurt so much when this all slips through your fingers.

Because if this is the last time—if this is the last time you ever get to hold him, touch him, love him—then you want to make sure you remember everything. Just in case this is it. Just in case you lose him tonight. Just in case you don’t get to love him tomorrow.

Sid breathes out hard, his grip tightening on you like he can feel the way you’re preparing yourself to lose him. And maybe he can. Maybe he can feel the way you press your face into the crook of his neck, like you’re trying to keep him there just a second longer. Like you don’t want to let go.

"Baby," he breathes against your temple, his lips brushing your skin. "Don't do that. Don’t—don’t pull away from me like that."

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself not to break, not to let the sadness welling in your chest swallow you whole. "I’m not," you whisper. But you are. You know you are. And of course he noticed.

Sid exhales hard, his hands smoothing up and down your back, grounding you. "Yeah, you are," he murmurs. "I can feel it. I know you."

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, hands firm on your lower back, like he’s keeping you right there. “Don’t—don’t hold onto me like you’re saying goodbye.” His throat bobs. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t do that.”

You drop your gaze to his chest, fingers still playing at his hairline. “I don’t know what else to do.” Your voice is small, raw.

Sid groans softly, tilting his forehead against yours, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. “You stay,” he murmurs, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “You stay right here. With me.”

Your breath stutters, and for the first time, you let yourself look at him. Really look at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, tired, his expression so full of regret it hurts to see.

Then finally, Sid sighs, long and slow. "You're right. I fucked up,” he admits, voice rough, thick with something heavy. “I disrespected you. I got caught up in everything.”

Your fingers still in his hair.

Sid sighs, his other hand rubbing slow, absentminded circles against the small of your back. “I let myself get pulled into conversation, into all the bullshit, I forgot what was really important tonight. And I’ll never be able to apologize enough for that.”

You blink up at him, studying the way his brows are drawn, the way his mouth is set in a hard, miserable line.

Sid shakes his head at himself, eyes flickering over your face, guilt written in every line of his own. “I’m an idiot,” he says quietly, shaking his head. “There’s a million fucking things I should’ve done differently tonight.”

Your throat tightens, and you nod because—yeah. There are.

Sid exhales sharply, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly under your eye. “But I’m not losing you over this,” he murmurs, voice low, firm. “I won’t.”

You swallow, your fingers curling into the fabric of his dress shirt. “Sid—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna lose you over this.” His voice is quiet but firm, like an unshakable promise. “I won’t accept it. One bad night isn’t gonna ruin what we have.” His hands drop to your waist again, holding you steady, grounding you. “It’s too special.You’re too fucking special.”

Your chest aches, your fingers flexing against his shirt. And you believe him. You do.

Because this is Sid. Your Sid. The man who worships the ground you walk on, who loves you fiercely, who cares.

So you just look at him for a moment, drinking him in—the hazel hue of his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the most important fucking thing in the world.

Sid brushes his nose against yours, his voice softer now. “I love you too fucking much to let this be the thing that breaks us.”

And for the first time all night, you feel something loosen in your chest.

He studies you for a moment, eyes flickering over your face like he’s trying to gauge where your head is at. Then, more quietly, “You do know that, right?”

And yeah. Yeah, you do.

You nod slowly, and Sid lets out a breath, relief flickering across his features.

“I know you’re upset with me,” he murmurs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You should be. I’d be fucking pissed if I were you.” He gives a half-smile, but it’s small, cautious, like he’s afraid to push too soon.

Your lips twitch, just barely, and that’s all he needs.

He exhales, leaning in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I mean it, baby,” he says against your skin. “I love you. And I hate that I made you feel like anything less than the most important fucking person in that room tonight.”

You sigh, leaning into him again, and this time, it feels different.

Softer. More you and him.

Sid watches you carefully, eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “Come back to me, my love,” he murmurs. “Please.”

You press your lips together, exhaling slowly.

And then, quietly, “I’m right here.”

And just like that, his shoulders sag with relief. You exhale slowly, your breath still finding its rhythm, but the ache in your chest has softened. Sid’s eyes stay on you, unwavering, searching, like he’s waiting for you to say something—anything.

And you believe him. You do. Because even though tonight fucking sucked, even though you spent hours feeling like you didn’t belong, even though you had to sit with the humiliation of being overlooked by everyone, including the one person who should have seen you—you love him. You love him, and you know he loves you too.

What you have is special. It’s everything. 

Your fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him like he might slip away if you don’t. But he’s not going anywhere. You can feel it in the way he holds you, the way his hands splay across your back, like he’s trying to mold you against him, like he’s making sure you’re real.

Sid exhales through his nose, slow and controlled. His fingers trace lazy circles at the base of your spine, grounding you. “Talk to me, baby,” he murmurs. “Let me in.”

Your throat tightens, the lump still there, even though the sharp edges of your anger have dulled. “I hate feeling like this,” you admit, your voice quiet.

Sid’s hands tighten around you. “I know,” he says softly, and the way he says it—like he really knows, like he gets it—makes you feel even closer to tears.

“I don’t—” You break off, shaking your head against him. “I don’t want to be mad at you.”

Sid sighs, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Then don’t,” he murmurs, voice softer, lighter now. “Just love me.”

You let out a watery laugh, and he feels it, his arms tightening as he presses his forehead to yours. “Baby,” he says again, so fucking tender, like he’s pouring every ounce of love he has for you into that single word.

Then, after a moment, his voice comes quiet, hesitant. Hopeful.

“We’re okay, right?”

It’s so soft. So careful. Like he’s afraid of the answer. Like maybe, just maybe, he’s still a little scared you might walk away.

You let out a slow breath, thinking. Feeling.

“I think so,” you whisper.

Sid exhales sharply, a little relieved sound, and he nudges his nose against yours, affectionate, familiar. His fingers tighten briefly against your back before his hands smooth over you, slow and steady.

“Good,” he murmurs, lips brushing lightly against your temple. “’Cause I don’t think I could fucking take it if we weren’t.”

A small, breathy exhale leaves you, and for the first time tonight, it’s almost a laugh. Almost.

Sid hears it, feels the way your body relaxes just the smallest bit, and it’s like he latches onto it, chases after it.

“Jesus, babe,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then another, then another. “I feel like I aged ten fucking years tonight.”

That gets a real laugh out of you—quiet, small, but real.

Sid pulls back slightly, looking at you like he’s trying to memorize you, trying to read every single emotion on your face. His thumb brushes over your cheek, gently.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching just the slightest bit, like he’s trying to smile but doesn’t want to push it too soon.

Your throat tightens at the warmth in his voice, the relief. The way he says my girl like it’s fact.

You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, the safety of him. His fingers slide up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing gently over the apple of your cheek. “We’re okay,” he says, like he needs you to know it. Like if he says it enough times, you’ll believe it too.

And you do. You do.

You let out a slow, shaky breath, nuzzling into his touch. “I love you,” you whisper, barely audible, but he hears it.

Sid lets out a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost a sigh, almost relief. “Fuck,” he breathes, tilting his head just enough to press his lips to yours—not desperate, not rushed, just there. Just a promise. Just an I love you too.

[jeanbie]

ALL THE TIME (IF YOU WERE MINE) ★ masterlist.

pairing: jake x reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, human!fem!reader, porn with a lot of plot, establishing feelings, reader's nickname is "Spellman/Spelly", size kink, face sitting, finger fucking, manhandling, begging, riding, dirty talk, squirting, whatever you call this, breeding kink, creampie | wc: 19k

note: i became obsessed with jake + spelly ᨳ ˶ᵔᴗᵔ˶) thank u for the love on fantasize + i hope u all love the development between our fav dummy avatar and our fav scientist!!

★ ⏤ sequel to fantasize

⏤ Now that feelings are known and the lucky chance to be alone in the lab together arises, Jake wants to go even further than he did before.

“Hey, marine, where’s your log from last night?”

Of course, the first thing out of Grace’s mouth when Jake rolls himself into the front workspace is something to do with video logs. Jake does everything he can to stop himself from groaning in her face and presents her a smile, one that she can no doubt see right through when he appears in the dim daylight falling through the windows.

“It’s not there? Must have deleted itself.”

Grace’s eyebrows raise. “Are you trying to tell me that the camera just…deleted the footage? I have everyone else’s logs on here except for yours. Conveniently for you…”

“Can’t even make a log right,” comments Norm — Jake had almost forgotten all about the eldest Spellman and turns his head to see him, and quite frankly, even just looking at Norm this morning feels like a silent victory, the excited feeling of thrilled anticipation bubbling in Jake’s stomach.

“Ask your sister,” Jake says in reply, almost laughing at loud at the contorted face of disgust that appears in replacement of Norm’s sneer, “she saw me last night.”

“Here we go,” Norm sighs.

Luckily for Norm, Grace buts in: “Enough, you skxawngs. Just make a log while it’s all still fresh.” She pauses then, and pulls out one of her beady eyes to stare intently at Jake, “It is still fresh, right, Jake?”

“Fresh as a daisy, doc,” Jake replies, but his eyes have already begun wandering around the lab for the notably absent scientist he enjoys seeing the most in the mornings — the same scientist he fucked stupid last night and hasn’t stopped thinking about since.

Considering your unbelievably obvious feelings for Jake, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he managed to entice you out to the little forest behind the shack, and yet he still can’t believe that it even happened. There’s a phantom tingle in his stomach as he thinks it over — did it even count when he did things in his avatar?

Everybody has noticed your interest in Jake, including Jake himself, and yet a strange doubt gnaws at his mind as his eyes wander across the lab, seeking you out, looking for signs of you on the counter or out the windows. More than anything, he hopes he hasn’t completely severed his chances with you. 

What if you woke up and regretted all of it? What if you woke up and despised him all of a sudden? That probably wouldn’t surprise him, since there’s plenty of anti-Jake sentiment being spread in the lab right now, and he’s never had too much of a good thing before it slips away somehow.

Still, there’s a small crack inside of Jake that remains open with the possibility that maybe everything is fine.

Jake doesn’t know how long he’s been staring out the window for before Grace speaks again, but when he looks over at her, he’s grateful that she’s not looking at him already to catch him in his daydreaming.

“I don’t hear you making that log, marine,” she says carefully, her eyes once again glued to her microscope. It’s a wonder she doesn’t just fall asleep next to the damn thing. 

Jake tries his best to look casual as he rolls to the end of the lab and fiddles with the camera, asking, “Where’s everyone else?”

Grace shuffles and swaps one of the samples under the microscope. “Outside. I sent Little Spellman out to collect a sample from the fyìpmaut tree that we noticed on our first outdoor sweep. I think in the next few days, we might even get a bit of fruit from that sucker.”

“That’s a squid fruit tree, by the way,” adds Norm, and Jake casts him a filthy glare that Norm unfortunately doesn’t see since he’s got his nose buried in some papers.

“I know that,” Jake says in the calmest voice he can.

Does Norm forget that Jake goes through what burns down to a routine of drills with Neytiri on almost everything and anything the woman can think of that can be found on Pandora? From his, quote, “valuable field research”, Jake thinks he’s learned more about Pandora and what you can find in the forest than Norm has in three years.

“I sent Chacón out with her so she can stretch her legs,” Grace continues, having no energy to waste on trying to get Jake and Norm to coexist peacefully. “I don’t think she even goes outside unless it's to fly, so it’ll do her some good.”

Jake looks out the window again. He wishes he could at least see you — maybe that would make the twisting discomfort disappear. He tries very desperately to think about last night again, running his memory over every detail until he knows for sure that he wasn’t overanalysing or even imagining the entire thing.

He likes you. You like him. He fucked you in the forest. He liked it a lot. You sounded like you liked it a lot. You looked sad to see him disappear before going inside. He didn’t imagine any of that, did he?

Grace’s chair creaks menacingly and it makes Jake switch on the little camera quickly and start listing off whatever he did with Neytiri the day before. It would be hilarious if he were to accidentally mention the fact that he stretched out Norm’s sister and filled her up with cum, but Jake has the decency to know that the timing isn’t right.

Plus, he kind of wants Norm to figure it out for himself. 

As he recites his day, all he can think about is how he wants Norm to find out — when he’s out on a pathetic patrol around the shack, maybe he’ll get a whiff near the forest; god, Jake hopes you’re walking with a goddamn limp just to rub salt in the wound. There are too many ways, too many possibilities, and Jake has to work overtime to fight the grin that wants to appear on his face. 

The story he’s sharing about tracking yerik through their shit isn’t funny at all, and he’d hate to have to try and explain why he’s smirking while he’s telling it. 

Jake can’t think of anything else to say to drag on the log that Grace apparently wants so badly, so he calls it a day and switches off the camera. He then steals another glance out the window and is absolutely delighted when he can actually see you this time.

You’re sprinting with Trudy back towards the lab while frantically looking up above your head. Jake can’t even see the sky from where he’s sitting, and suddenly feels a pang of pity for you for having to sit in here until Grace essentially gives you the green light to go outside. 

No wonder the stars had been so fascinating last night — you can’t see anything through these frosted glass panes that the science department were forced to call windows. 

Jake feels his heart pounding in his chest when the sound of the doorway pressurising fills the room, followed by Trudy’s relieved sigh as she whips off her exo-pack and takes a deep breath of air. But he’s not looking at her as desperately as he is at you, and Jake doesn’t know if it’s the afterglow of fucking you last night or if it’s two months' worth of feelings rushing back towards him like a tidal wave, but you look so beautiful that it leaves him sitting there dumbly, taking it all in.

“Fucking rain,” Trudy sighs, immediately b-lining for the fridge. Since they first got here, the fridge has expanded in size after a few trips back to Hells Gate for emergency supplies or board meetings Grace couldn’t get herself out of, and now the fridge can store beers that Trudy is all too pleased about cracking open.

“Good timing,” notes Grace as she turns in her chair. “You get it?”

“Yep, here,” comes your voice, and Jake watches quietly as you hand Grace her priceless sample. “The ground near that tree is really wet, though. If you want more samples, I won’t be going until the rain stops.”

“That tree won't bear fruit until the end of the week, maybe,” Grace replies, waving her hand dismissively. “…This is a good sample, Spellman, great eye.”

“Thanks,” you laugh in reply. 

Your back is still facing Jake, and each second you waste looking away from him makes Jake feel more impatient to see your eyes on him again. He watches very observantly as you stretch your arms up with a small groan, the bottom of your tank rising as you reach for the ceiling and iron out the aches in your bones. 

Grace looks at you for a minute and her brows pinch. You clearly don’t notice as you turn in Norm’s general direction and make a comment about how terrible his notes were last night, but Grace doesn’t stop eye-balling you until she throws a short glance at Jake and narrows her eyes. 

He says nothing, dares not even move until Grace raises her eyebrows as if it will clear the calculating expression off her face. She sets the sample down on the counter and leans her weight on her elbow, reaching into her pocket for a cigarette.

“Hey, you’ve got a crazy ass rash on your chest, Spellman,” Grace says suddenly, and you whip around to look at her so quickly that Jake has to refrain from sighing in pity. “What happened?”

You peer down at your chest and Jake knows you’ve remembered and by now noticed the mark on your chest that is shaped like Jake’s mouth. For a second, there’s a tense silence, and Jake feels his stomach turning, half out of anxiousness and half thrill — could this be? Could this be the moment everyone finds out? 

He gives Norm a single look, but he’s not even interested in what’s being said, for he’s rearranging the notes he’s been reading and turns to his binder of other random papers.

“One of the samples Jake found for me kinda made me go all itchy,” you lie, very flawlessly too, and finally, you look at Jake.

It’s as if a volt of electricity has been sent through him — Jake has no idea what has suddenly made him feel this way, but something tells him it might be last night; might be the fact that you’re the most beautiful person in the room, on Pandora, in the entire universe. His mouth goes dry. 

“Fngapsutxwll?” Grace asks, and when you look back with a gentle and clueless nod, she frowns and sneers at Jake, “I told you to avoid bringing her carnivorous plants, Jake!”

“I didn’t know it was gonna make her break out in hives,” Jake replies. The lie is so natural that Grace scoffs loudly in reply. 

He hasn’t even brought you any fngapsutxwlls, and yet here he is, lying about it just for the sake of protecting this secret that more than anything, Jake wants your brother to know about.

“Where is it?” asks Grace. “I need to document this.”

“I told you that taking samples from Jake was a bad idea,” Norm pipes up, giving you a sympathetic, tight-lipped smile. 

“Oh, quit bouncin’ my dick, Spellman,” Jake groans, looking away from you with reluctance when you peer over at him.

“You’re a danger to this department. And a danger to my sister.”

“Shut up, Norm,” you huff, marching towards Jake and wrapping your arms around his head in a way that somehow smushes the side of it against your chest. Hey, Jake’s not complaining — he knows this is your own slight rebellion against your brother, but he will relish in this feeling and enjoy the displeasure that writes its way onto Norm’s face. 

“Your sister’s quite capable of making her own decisions around here,” Grace says, her voice tired suddenly. “And the very last thing I wanna do is listen to you fucking assholes fighting. It’s actually boring me. If you’re going to keep at it, I’ll send you back to the Gate, Norm, don’t tempt me. If it weren’t for the fact that this jarhead is days away from becoming one of the People, then believe me, he’d be back there faster than you can say Eywa. So knock it the fuck off.”

Message received: Norm all but deforms into a ball and rolls away to the bunks, with nothing to say for himself besides a disgruntled sigh as he disappears. Jake studies the sound of his footsteps as they stomp down the length of the metal corridor, but then he tunes his senses back to the feeling of your heartbeat lightly thudding against his temple, your hands cradling his head like a baby. 

He savours the feeling for a long minute before pushing the boat out and snaking his hand up the back of your leg, pulling you closer against him.

For a second, Grace glances over at Jake once more and then gives you a warning look. “And don’t encourage them, Spelly, you’re better than that.”

“Sorry,” you laugh, and Jake melts into the soft curve of your breasts like a cold animal craving warmth. Grace spares another fleeting moment looking at you with her menacing beady eye, the same she likes to give Jake whenever he does something slightly wrong, and then she turns back to face her microscope, giving Jake the opening to press his fingernails into your bare legs and look up at you.

The expression on your face when you peer down at him makes a smile bloom across his mouth before he can even stop it. He tilts his head back appreciatively and takes it all in; the look of slight shyness on your face and the soft yet slightly cheeky grin where your mouth is. 

Little Spellman, his woman — decorated with the imprint of his mouth on your tit, a kind of ethereal glow on your skin that he knows he helped put there. 

For a moment, despite all of the thoughts whirling around in Jake’s head, he can’t think of anything to say to you. All he can think of saying is something absurdly stupid about last night, but he’s acutely aware of Grace on the other side of the room, and Trudy floating in and out of the hallway as if she can’t quite decide on where to go.

Slowly, and then all at once, you unravel yourself from Jake and push away to lean your lower back against the lab desk. 

His eyes wander all over your face before you ask, “Sleep well, Sully?”

He sighs from the back of his throat, like he’s thinking, and then relaxes slightly.

“Best night’s sleep in a while,” he replies, folding his arms, watching the way your eyes glimpse down at the very slight curve of his biceps — they’re nothing on his avatar’s physique, but he finds with amazement that you somehow still find something to look at with fondness. 

He has no idea why you like him so much, or why you’re still looking at him like that despite having been tangled with his avatar just last night. On one hand, he knows it’s flattering that somebody likes everything he doesn’t about himself, from his boring personality to his dumbness to his disability. On the other hand, Jake knows that you could do ten thousand times better than with him — even if he factors in the Na’vi body that he suddenly feels more comfortable in than his real one.

“I didn’t even hear you get back in,” Trudy says, deciding to stick in this part of the lab rather than enter the dark lair of sulk that Norm has channeled in the bunks. She drags one of the low stools over with an obnoxious screech, and Jake has to tell himself it’s fine. 

He likes Trudy, likes that she’s a good friend and takes his side on things, but right now, he just wants her to go away; he wants everyone to go away so that he can steal five extra seconds with you before he has to roll back to the link unit and find Neytiri. 

“Well, I thought I’d be considerate and roll by everyone’s bunk extra quietly,” Jake replies. “You guys were out like lights.”

“I feel like all I do is sleep around here,” Trudy mutters.

“You’re welcome to join us on our study later,” Grace offers.

But Trudy cringes. “Can’t say I’ll be much help in a lab, doc.”

“No, we’re collecting wet samples later,” Grace explains. “The rain tank will refill our recycled water, but I need to patch up the reserve tank with Norm while we’re out. Little Spellman here will take cuttings from the forest out back, and we could use a lookout just in case any unwanted visitors join us.”

“I didn’t know about this,” you say confusedly. “When did we decide this?”

“Just now, I decided,” replies Grace. “While Jake’s out doing his shit, we need to do ours. Hope you packed your raincoat, Spelly.”

Paying no attention at all to the string of groans that come from your direction, Jake looks out the window again and gives himself a few seconds to think. 

If he manages to land a clean kill today with Neytiri, then he’ll be choosing his own ikran tomorrow. It is the single most important part of becoming an Omatikaya warrior, according to what he’s deduced from Neytiri’s repeated stress of the whole rite, and the pressing necessity of Jake perfecting his kills has been made his top priority by two women in his life; the woman showing him the ropes and the scientist beating his ass if he misses a video log.

But Jake has carved out a part of his mind and left it open in your name. More than anything else, he wants to stay here and watch you frantically running around in the rain cutting little leaves, talking shit about cells, looking awkwardly at where he fucked you last night in the very forest Grace is making you turn into a new study. 

On top of all that, Jake wants to be there when Norm takes his first whiff of the seeds planted for Jake’s revenge — oh, god, how he wants to see the sinking look of realisation on Norm’s face when he catches Jake’s scent all over his sister…

“Why are you still here, marine?” cuts Grace’s annoyed voice as he glances to the side and sees that the scientist is glaring at him like he’s pa’li shit on her shoes. “Don’t you have animals to hunt?”

Jake sighs through his nose and glances back at you. He wants to do what you asked of him, to tell you he likes you so much it’s making him go insane, how last night was incredible, how he wished you had rolled over and seen him before he went to sleep. But he doesn’t. Now’s not the time, and Jake all of a sudden thinks that he’s behaving like a freak and he moves to roll himself towards the link unit at the far of the link chamber.

As he busies himself by flicking all the necessary switches and deliberately taking longer than normal to get everything ready, he keeps his ears trained on the conversation happening behind him.

“We’ll have to work overtime on the new samples,” Grace says as she slides yet another sample under the microscope. “Parker’s calling us in for a routine meeting and inspection of our data tomorrow. Jake’s doing his Omatikaya training, but Parker will be expecting results to justify the rest of us coming all the way out here.”

“What, all of us are going?” Norm has decided to reappear from the bunks, much to Jake’s dismay.

Grace hums — she probably nods too, knowing her, but Jake makes it a point not to look as though not to blow his cover of listening in. “If I have to go, you guys will suffer with me.”

Jake feels the cavern in his chest hollow out even more. 

“So…Jake’s just staying here?” Norm asks, confused. “…Is that safe?”

“You worried about me, Norm?” Jake calls.

Norm probably frowns — yup: Jake turns and sees that sinister scowl on his face. “Somehow, you’d find a way, just like always. But we’re all the way up in the Hallelujah Mountains.”

“Funnily enough, I knew that, Norm,” says Grace.

“If something happens, Jake will need someone,” Norm continues, and for once, Jake actually agrees. If something were to happen with the link unit or the pressurising system, Jake wouldn’t know the first thing about fixing any of it — that is if he even got out of the unit without falling or dying. 

But now that Norm has mentioned it, Jake’s body fills with dread. Is Norm suggesting that he stay behind with Jake? Then his thoughts spiral: did Norm already know? Was he planning a whole thing to confront Jake or get him back? Norm didn’t strike Jake as the type to outright murder somebody, but hey, he wouldn’t put it past him to try somehow. 

Grace contemplates the idea for a moment and takes her time glancing over at Jake and then back at Norm. “Good point. You stay here, then.”

“Can I stay instead?” you interrupt, and Jake looks at you so quickly he fears he might get whiplash as a result.

Grace eyeballs you curiously, as does Norm. 

“Why?” Norm questions in a rather curt tone.

“No offence, but I haven’t met Parker since our orientation in the Avatar Program when we were students, and pretty much all of our conclusive research is made up of your notes, anyway. I can stay here and manage the lab, continue my own research, and make sure Jake gets in and out of the unit alright once he’s done.” You glance at Grace for good measure, “I’m reliable. But when it comes to talking to the guys in charge, you might be better off with Norm.”

If Grace thinks what you’ve said is suspicious, then she doesn’t show it. After all, you’re right, and everybody in the lab knows it. Jake, for one, knows how reliable you can be around the lab. 

He’s not biased, but he knows that you’re a far more trustworthy scientist than Norm is when it comes to checking the systems, keeping the lab clean and tidy, doing all of your chores and completing your logs, and in general, keeping the entire shack functioning as normal while everybody else is busy. 

He also knows how shy you can get, particularly with your work. Not even a few hours ago, you had tried to downplay your interest in the Na’vi to justify Norm’s graduation into the Avatar Driver program, and he can’t think of a single time you’ve told somebody that their research isn’t as important as your own. In fact, Jake isn’t even one hundred percent sure what you’re interested in when you’re not aiding everybody else’s research.

More importantly than any of that, Jake knows that you staying behind in the shack while everybody else flies out for an overnight at Hell’s Gate is particularly advantageous. It spells the perfect setting for the next stage of his so-called ‘revenge’, although he’s beginning to believe that soon enough, Jake will be fucking you for more than the thrill of it pissing Norm off.

Jake blinks and finds you looking at him, as if trying to coax a word or two of support from his mouth. He throws you a simple smile and angles his head towards Grace.

“It’s a no-brainer who I’d rather be spending a night with,” he says. Then he immediately cringes on the inside — that came out horribly wrong, no matter how truthful it may have actually been.

But still, Grace doesn’t think twice about the otherwise nasty implications of his words. Instead, she shrugs and turns to the janky coffee machine that is tucked nearby to a selection of mason jars by the mini microwave.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying you willingly want to spend a whole night in this remote shack with Jake?” Norm asks, looking at you as if you’ve grown a third head. “Alone?”

“What would be so bad about it?” you reply casually. “He’ll hardly be here, anyway. Besides, if he pisses me off, I’ll just kick him out of his chair and leave him somewhere.”

Jake laughs, “Rude? I thought you liked my wheelchair.”

“Whatever,” Grace announces, just before you get the chance to reply with something witty to make Jake laugh in return. “We’ll be back as soon as the day breaks. Chacón says she needs VFR to get through the mountains, so we’ll play it safe. As long as you can hold out until then, Spelly, then go ahead.”

The sound of the link unit whirring to life makes Jake jump slightly, and he reluctantly glances away to punch in the data on the screen while the rest of the lab busy themselves in their usual routine. 

Jake can’t believe it. He could not have predicted a more perfect result.

Tomorrow, there’ll be nobody else besides you and him.

It is quite literally perfect news.

As Jake hears Norm begin his on-brand rant over how you should be cautious around an idiot like himself, he allows himself the simple pleasure of grinning wickedly to himself, feigning innocence as he very carefully looks at you again out the corner of his eye. 

After a while of fighting off your brother, you eventually look back at Jake and smile, so radiantly and mischievously that he immediately knows that whatever he’s thinking, you’re thinking too.

He heaves himself up and lets Grace think she’s God incarnated by helping him nestle down in the unit, all while he savours the last few minutes he has letting his mind be swarmed with thoughts of tomorrow — thoughts of him with you wrapped in his arms, nobody around to watch, nothing in the world to keep him from claiming you as his own all over again.

Following Grace’s orders isn’t often a challenge for you — in fact, being given instructions on what to do has become a reliable part of your daily schedule, and it just so happened that you did a lot of what Grace asked without any fuss at all. But right now, you’re having a hard time understanding just why taking samples of a few wet leaves is in any way necessary.

Since earlier that morning, the rain has transformed into a torrential downpour; the raincoat covering your entire body is drenched through, the hood tightened so intensely around your face that it shadows the outline of your exo-pack comically. Still, you practically glare down at the pamtseowll taking lashes from the rain, its catty appearance looking pathetically sad as you snip a segment off and secure it in the sample bag, huffing as you go along.

Everybody in the laboratory has their own interests, their own research to conduct. Grace has been working on a dense study of forest fauna since you arrived on Pandora, and now Norm has decided to work on a branch of research concerning the fauna and its changes when in contact with rainfall.

So far, he’s accumulated a valuable cache of research, and yet, here you are, collecting his samples while he stands on his blue tip-toes and helps Grace fix the faulty water reserve tank.

You can’t even think of the last time anybody offered to help you out with your own research. In a way, the only helpful person has been Jake, and that’s only by a stretch. The variety of cuttings or entire uprooted plants that he brings you after his hours and hours spent on the ground and in the village have been the subjects of your research, but dying plants flattened and prodded in a lab only communicate so much at a time.

Being out here, in the open field, would be the most beneficial if it weren’t for Grace’s restrictive ‘field hours’. 

With a frown, you pop open a small sample tube and carefully angle it underneath another pamtseowll, catching a generous amount of rainwater and firmly sealing it closed. You’ve snipped and sliced a dozen different plants, shadowed by Trudy and her chorus of equally unamused sighs, before Grace and Norm successfully patch up the tank and join you.

“Felinafolia ferrugenia,” says Grace as she stands over your shoulder. She looks annoyingly refreshed considering the onslaught of rain, dressed in a large raincoat of her own but with her legs on display, her shorts the only clothing she appreciates when in her avatar. “Cat ear. Another great sample, Spellman.”

You grunt in reply. Based on the way Grace busies herself with one of the starfishing pxiwll plants instead of replying, you predict she hasn’t heard your complaints, and so you stomach another sigh and crouch over another plant.

“How many cuttings do you want, Norm?” you ask, teeth chattering in the cold.

“As many as we can before all the bags fill up,” Grace replies instead. She jerks her head towards the deeper forest and suggests moving inwards. And honestly, you’d want to, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s currently prowling towards the same lay of forest that Jake took you to last night, and the nerves root you to the spot.

It’s the very last place you’d rather visit with your boss, your brother, and a friendly yet sometimes intimidating aviator pilot. Your eyes close in on the familiar jag of the rock, feeling your heartbeat tremble as Grace approaches it without a care in the world. 

Trudy passes by you with a confused curve of her eyebrows, already stepping in Grace’s oversized footprints and making her way into the concealed cover of trees and branches, and it is only when Norm drops to a crouch beside you that you finally tear your eyes from the rock and look at him.

Norm’s eyebrows are low, a ripple deepening across his forehead as he stares at you, like one would a tricky puzzle in the newspaper. His eyes flicker up and down the raincoat analytically, his lip curling in distaste before he inhales, nostrils flaring, and bites out, “Why do you smell like that?”

Your heart is hammering so loudly that it makes your chest ache, and around the gigantic lump in your throat, you gape at Norm and manage to ask, “Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know, all weird,” he continues, looking perplexed and disturbed at the same time. “Like. Musky. Like… No. I don’t know, but it’s weird. I don’t even know what you smell like, but it’s not normal.”

Without having to put too much thought into it, you’re confident that you know exactly what and who you smell like. A certain oversized ex-marine who Norm just so happens to hate all of a sudden. 

It shocks you how scared Norm’s assessment makes you feel. Of course, you knew that the Na’vi had an incredibly heightened sense of smell, and had that fact confirmed yesterday with Jake sniffing the damp spot between your legs, but you somehow didn’t expect Norm to be able to smell any difference on you. 

This is exactly what Jake wanted to happen; you gauge Norm’s facial expressions for a long time, trying to figure out if he’s made any connections yet, but he continues to sniff at you in disgust, permanently confused by what the hell it could even be.

“Are you sure it’s not just the raincoat?” you ask lamely, taking a pointed look down at the waxy coat enveloping you. “It was just in one of the supply boxes, it probably smells really weird since it’s been in storage for a while.”

Norm inches closer and takes a massive inhale.

“I guess it could be the coat,” Norm decides slowly, watching you as you hover for a moment before stepping off to follow Grace and Trudy. All of a sudden, being over there is better than being here, being interrogated by Norm.

Still, he doesn’t get the hint and he says as he follows you, “But it’s just strange. It’s so strong.”

“If you keep going on about it, it’s gonna hurt my feelings,” you tell him, hoping that he might shut up and spare you the anxiety of him figuring it out. “You trying to say I stink?”

“Yeah,” Norm replies dumbly. “Because you do. You usually smell fine, I know what body wash you use because I steal it all the time.”

“Right,” you drawl, peering at him from the corner of your eye as you both near the others. Trudy tosses her head over her shoulder and startles at the sight of Norm, as if she forgot he was even there and slowly creeping up behind her. 

For a moment, you wish you had the ability to forget about Norm, but even when he crouches next to Grace and assists in marvelling over a rather average-looking moss blanket, you can’t help but anxiously stare at both of them, as if waiting for something more to be said.

It’s not as if you regret any of last night. On the contrary, you think it might have altered your body chemistry and made you more desperate. While your first tumble with Jake hadn’t been in the way you expected, or even in the form of Jake you were most used to, there’s nothing you can say to make you convince yourself that it was a mistake. Since when did mistakes feel that good?

Your embarrassingly long crush on Jake has been dragged out until now, and quite frankly, the last thing you want to do is suppress the elation you feel about finally taking the next step with him; to finally hold his attention, to be someone he actually feels interested in.

To be “his woman”, to hear Jake say that you were one of the only things ever keeping him from throwing his life into being Na’vi felt like a dream last night, and even now, in his absence, all you can think about is how badly you want him back here, how badly you want him.

But not at the cost of total humiliation. If Norm were to turn around right now and accuse you of the truth, you genuinely believe you might die from embarrassment. It’s one thing sleeping with Jake Sully, but it’s another thing entirely to be found out for sleeping with Jake’s avatar. 

Is it even safe? 

Instead of helping Grace and Norm in their collection of samples, you fall deeper and deeper into your spiral of thoughts. You’re so deeply immersed in them that several minutes go by and Grace and Norm have moved a few feet closer to the rock, studying the moss that creeps up the jagged edges, moss you felt on your back last night. And yet, you still don’t startle out of your thoughts — at least not until a dark shadow falls over you, and Trudy jumps around with wide eyes before groaning with annoyance.

“How the hell did you get here so quietly?” Trudy snaps, and the distress in her voice makes you turn your head over your shoulder. When you see a strangely slender blue waist in front of your eyes, you jump too and look up to find Jake’s face hidden in a slight shadow.

When he looks away from Trudy and finds your eyes behind the glare on the exo-pack, his mouth widens into a giant smirk, and despite the shivering cold of the stormy weather, you feel your body flush with a sudden warmth.

God, sleeping on the fact of what you did with Jake did not make the yearning go away. 

Jake shrugs. “At least I know my training’s paying off.”

At that, Grace acknowledges Jake standing behind you and turns to face him with her hands on her thighs. “Oh. Marine. Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?”

“I’m done for the day,” he announces, his grin widening, if it were even possible. You take the moment to soak up the sight of him in his Omatikaya attire — the rain sliding across his wide torso, looking a shade darker in the dim light, the very faint glimmer of his freckles creating a stitch work of light across his skin. When Grace asks why, he tells her, “I’m ready.”

Grace gasps — she sounds happy, and after your eyes linger for a fleeting second on the wet cloth hanging across Jake’s crotch, you turn to face her. 

“Really?” she asks.

Jake nods. “My iknimaya is tomorrow morning.”

Grace laughs disbelievingly and rises to stand, her hands falling to her hips while Norm remains all but glued to the floor, his eyes glazed with envy as he glances at Jake.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Jake!” Grace laughs again. “Really. Well done.”

“Nice work, man!” Trudy adds, nodding her head at Jake. “You a tough warrior now, huh?”

You hear Jake snickering behind you, the noise making you shudder. Thankfully, it’s still raining, so you hope it looks like you’re cold rather than on edge about the avatar behind you. 

“You walked all the way here to tell us that?” asks Grace, sounding genuinely curious as she turns back to Norm and quite literally yanks up a whole plant. “Why?”

“Nah. Neytiri wanted to show me the basic route for tomorrow morning,” Jake explains. You can hear him shuffling around behind you, but you’ve become rooted to the spot facing away from him. “Tsu’tey pretty much hates me. He’ll be gagging for the chance to abandon me before we even get to the rookery.”

Grace makes a noise of agreement, which launches her into a serious discussion of how Jake needs to respect Tsu’tey more in order to receive more respect in return. From behind you, Jake groans playfully, although lets Grace continue her presentation on why Tsu’tey is a good leader (not that Jake ever said he wasn’t), and you intensely watch Norm lean his arm on the wedge of rock you recognise from last night until you become aware of the fact that the rain has slowed — or at least above you, it has.

Craning your head up, you notice Jake’s hands hovering over your head, as if acting as some kind of personal umbrella. He’s still looking at Grace when you peer at his face, but instinctively, like he felt you looking, his eyes flicker downwards to yours and he smiles again, his eyes halving into curves. 

Yep. The yearning has definitely persisted.

“Don’t stay too long, Jake, you’ll have to take yourself back down to the village before the storm picks up,” Grace says after her rant has stretched for at least five minutes on the value of Tsu’tey’s comradeship.

“Yeah. Though Neytiri says it’s almost passed,” Jake replies, adjusting his footing behind you, his hands unmoving. 

“Is Neytiri here?” you decide to ask suddenly. Hey, you can’t help but feel curious about the woman who has been helping Jake get to where he currently is.

You somehow miss the confused scrunch of Jake’s eyebrows, as though he finds the question completely irrelevant.

“She’s…around,” he says. “On her ikran somewhere. Practically left me all by myself.”

“Well, I imagine she has better things to do,” says Grace, sparing you the humiliation of coming up with a reason for even bringing her up in the first place, other than to just be nosey. You picture Neytiri stalking the lot of you from a perch with her ikran, trying to figure out if the Sky People keeping Jake’s human body alive are worthy to be left alone in the beautiful Ayram alusìng.

The mention of Neytiri seems to set something off inside Grace, who was apparently looking for any excuse to talk about the village again. She turns around on her haunches and begins another lengthy discussion on the Omatikaya and their ikran, all while Norm scowls into his sample pouches and Trudy steps away from you all to glare at the unassuming grey sky.

You are uncomfortably aware of Jake’s figure still looming over you, his hands sheltering you from the spitting rain and his tail occasionally curling around his leg to jab into your waist playfully.

There’s nothing to fear with Jake, nothing to fear of his potential interest in other people, and you banish the thoughts before they take up permanent residence. You’re better than that. And besides, if Jake didn’t really want you, he wouldn’t be acting like a Na’vi umbrella just for your convenience, wouldn’t be having so much trouble stopping himself from grinning down at you every once in a while.

A gust of cool air pushes its way through the forest, and you shudder dramatically, hoping it might guilt Grace out of the trees and back into the labs. Instead, she snorts, tells you to suck it up, and snaps at Norm for manhandling a sample, all before you feel a warmth surge behind you and two large, blue arms securing around your body.

Before you can even process it, you’re between Jake’s thighs, the large and solid expanse of his torso flat against your back and his cheek against the wet waxy material of your hood. You peer around the side of your coat to find his face, almost jumping when his big golden eyes are staring back at you.

“Don’t catch a cold, Spelly,” Jake says, his taut muscles tightening around you. He smirks at the fleeting look you throw in the group’s direction and purses his lips in an effort not to laugh at how funny everything is. How Norm is leaning against the rock he fucked you on and has no idea. How beautifully hilarious it is to see.

“Famous last words,” you reply, teeth chattering.

“Then go inside, grumpy,” Grace huffs, waving her arm in a flamboyant gesture, “Sully, walk Spellman back before you head to the village, will you?”

Jake shrugs, your body moving with him as he does so. It feels strange to be wrapped up in his arms so openly, with no rush or thrill of being caught through a window or a sniff. Norm looks purple with rage as he glares daggers into Jake’s face, though Jake’s barely looking at Norm, not when his much more favourable sibling is so close and pretty in his face like this.

He very gracefully moves to a stand, his hands moving from your body with reluctance before he reaches out, fingers widening and curling as he grabs for your own. Shyly, you reach to take it, hearing Norm mutter something not-so-graceful under his breath and stepping in Jake’s shadow to follow as he makes his way with you back towards the lab.

The muddy ground squelches under Jake’s feet, but with the way he walks so carelessly, it’s as though he has already become acclimatised to the Na’vi ways. And, you have to admit, he sports the village clothing with class and style.

Jake’s beads clink together as he turns his head in an incline to see you. 

“Tell me it was everything I hoped for,” he says suddenly, and as you spot the cocky little smirk on his mouth, you laugh and shake your head, already knowing what he’s asking about.

“Norm said I smelled weird. I tried my best not to be offended.”

Jake sniggers, “That man has no idea.” Looking pleased, Jake swings your intertwined hands and adds quickly, “And you just smell like me. I like it.”

“You would like it.”

“In the village, couples smell like each other all the time,” he says, a bit too casually, and you sideways glance at him. “Like, to lay claim.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about laying claims when the only other man I see on a daily basis is literally my brother,” you remind him.

“Yeah. But, still. The idea,” Jake shrugs. “Isn’t it nice?”

The both of you round the corner of the lab and disappear from sight of the scientists back in the forest, now totally concealed behind the front of the lab and the drab look of the short grass and mud. On the bright side, the rain is slowing considerably, which is probably the only reason why you’re not cringing when you have to look up at Jake just to see his face.

“You know Neytiri has zero interest in me, right?”

You refrain from groaning. “I know, Jake.”

“Okay, ‘cause maybe it wasn’t obvious, so I’m just saying—”

“Let’s not… We’re not gonna do that, okay?” you say, cringing at the fact you brought it up in the first place. “I get it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Jake,” you laugh, pausing. What can you even say? 

He shifts slightly. “I told you that scientists are more my thing, and you know, what I meant by that was—”

“I know,” you groan, waving your hands desperately, “and I believe you. Don’t make this weird, Jake.”

Mercifully, he surrenders, holding up his hands to announce his resignation from the point. For a few more seconds, he stares at you, assesses every flinch or twitch of features on your face, and seems relieved when he finds nothing that indicates you’re upset with him.

Better than that, he completely sets aside the conversation; he smiles genuinely, as close to innocent as Jake can get, and then his eyes avert to the ground and he runs his tongue across the inside of his cheek.

Before the silence stretching between you can fester into anything else, you announce your leave with a heavy sigh and twist towards the doors.

“Get out of here, big guy,” you tell him, already punching in one of the codes to access the pressure chamber. “I’ll try and stay up to see you tonight.”

“Yeah right,” he teases, still in the same position you left him in. “My sleepy girl. Couldn’t manage it last night, I was gone like fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen precious minutes of sleep,” you say, watching Jake’s grin widen as the doors slide open and in you go. There’s no need for a goodbye; you’ll see him again later.

As soon as you’re inside of the lab again, you waste zero time in climbing out of the horribly drab coat and leaving it to dry in a cupboard that Grace hangs wet clothes in from time to time. The wax won’t run properly through the laundry machines, and so you leave it there, thankful that no rain seeped through to your clothes underneath, and shudder at the temperature change once back inside the strange comfort of the lab.

Dutifully, you place a bag of samples next to one of the microscopes, and you’re about to fish out a towel to head straight for the showers when you catch a glimpse of something blue outside the window — Jake, bending over to peer into the lab, tapping his finger on the glass to get your attention.

You look at him questioningly. Then, you watch in disbelief and amusement as Jake grins, puts his fisted hands down by his abdomen and then lifts them up to his shoulders. It takes a moment of confusion before it clicks — this motherfucker is asking you to lift up your shirt.

Jake nods, no doubt laughing to himself outside the lab as you gape at him. Perhaps you misunderstood him, but the look of eager anticipation and smugness on Jake’s face tells you otherwise. 

You look at the window to the right of you, paranoid that any of the three people you live with happen to be approaching the lab. The fear of someone like your brother or your boss seeing you with your tits out for the enjoyment of a massive flirt like Jake Sully blurs into thrill, and just to see him grin like he did last night, you laugh to yourself and fist the bottom of your shirt, rolling it up and over your breasts until they fall out on display.

You look at Jake expectantly. He peers closer, his fangs displayed as he smiles so wide you think his face might split into two, and after a long, drawn-out moment of ogling them, Jake finds your eyes and nods appreciatively, raising one thumb for good measure.

Your shirt is back down over your breasts by the time Jake is standing upright and stalking towards the edge of the cliffs, a speed in his step. Waiting until he’s completely out of view, you watch him disappear past the drop and spin back to stare at nothing in particular, until a ripple of laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably, your face unbelievably hot.

The possibility of the shower running cold all of a sudden sounds kind of appealing.

True to his word, Jake makes it back to the labs just after you’ve eaten, and is subject to Grace’s maternal fussing as she thrusts a food pouch into his lap and watches him until the contents have been devoured. Jake would need all of his energy for tomorrow — the first crucial steps were to be well-fed and well-rested.

“What’ll happen once you’re one of the People?” you ask Jake, comfortably nestled on one of the deck chairs that Grace found in storage that has been set up in the corner of the lab designated for eating and talking.

From spending a few months with Grace, everybody has become neutralised to her obsessive habit of separating her needs in her living space — somewhere to eat and talk, somewhere to work; somewhere to link up, somewhere to bathe, somewhere to sleep.

Jake shrugs with a smile. “I guess that’ll be it. I’ll have my ikran, they’ll throw me a little party, I’ll have suitors dancing at my feet…”

You smirk, eyebrows raised playfully. “Mighty bachelor.”

“But that’s not important, is it, Jake?” Grace interrupts pointedly.

“No,” he replies in genuine agreement. “The first course of action will, of course, be making Grace the boss. There’ll be a school in the village by next week.”

“Har, har,” replies Grace sarcastically. She takes a swig of her beer and smiles. “I just meant that relations are important. If we can do anything to establish friendly alliances with the People, it saves a whole lot of bloodshed and pain.”

“I hear you,” Jake assures her. “I am excited for my party, though.”

“Gotta pass first,” Norm says, balancing a pencil on his upper lip. “Easier said than done.”

“Hey, I just thought of my first plan of action. How about you do everything I’ve just done Norm? I’d love to see you try,” Jake says. 

Now that he’s already bedded you and is fairly certain of the longing twist in his stomach being there as a physical reminder of his feelings for you, Jake’s not really interested in letting Norm treat him like a loser anymore.

Norm just throws a middle finger in Jake’s direction. Before Norm’s usual dark and depressing energy pollutes the good vibes in the room, you quickly jump back into the conversation. 

“I wanna go to your party,” you say.

“Grace can come,” Jake replies sympathetically, his lips vanishing into a downturned frown. “If you have time and find a link unit in the Gate, then you’re welcome, Neytiri said so.”

“What about me? While you two are out getting drunk, I’ll be here, what, on my own?”

“Sorry, Spelly,” Jake frowns. “Hey, how about we paint you blue and try and sneak you in? Might pass as a Na’vi child if you’re lucky.”

“Charming…”

You tune out of Grace’s promises to make it to Jake’s party — if one even happens in the first place — and focus your attention on Jake.

You’ve only been in close proximity with Jake’s avatar for less than two days, but already, you’re making out the shape of his Na’vi features in his real ones. When he laughs, his head tilts up in the same way it did last night; his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he tries to reign the laughter in, the crease near his eyes as he purses his lips, the angle of his head when he finds your eyes locked on him once he does a scan of the people in the lab.

All it took was one night with his avatar to completely amplify the feelings you have for him. And all it took was one night in his avatar to breathe his own feelings into reality.

By the time Jake has made his way to the bathroom after pulling the short straw and being the last one in there, you’re already cocooned in bed, staring up at the fuzzy darkness intensified by Trudy’s top bunk. 

With Trudy cleaning her pistols and Grace and Norm making sure all of their notes are in order for the early flight out to Hell’s Gate tomorrow, you focus your attention on the sounds of Jake in the small bathroom — the sounds of him brushing his teeth and cursing when he knocks something off a shelf, the little squeak of his wheels as he does his best to move around. 

Your heart is hammering twice its usual pace when the light vanishes and his wheels grow louder as they amble towards the bunks.

Cracking open one eye, you just about make him out in the faint light cast by your overhead lamp. He rolls into view, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, although his features even out and he relaxes once he confirms that your eyes are, in fact, still open.

“Got me worried for a sec,” he says quietly. Everyone is still up, and he can’t risk giving them yet another reason to cockblock him.

“Just in time. I was dozing off,” you reply, nose wrinkling as you laugh at the roll of his eyes. 

Jake adjusts himself, leaning down on his elbows as they mould into the thin mattress and cushion by your side. You shuffle, shifting your head to look at him as his eyes flicker across your face. 

He supports his face with his hand pressed into his cheek, the other hand lifting to ghost across your face, lightly trailing over your hairline. There is a slight vacancy in his eyes, like his mind is full of thoughts that are taking his attention elsewhere, and for a moment, you wonder what to even say until his eyes snap back down to yours and his hand on his cheek moves.

His finger and thumb shift to squish your cheeks together, bringing your mouth into a pucker as he leans his head down and plants a kiss on your lips.

Jake breaks away after a moment, barely creating a distance between you before he kisses you again, and again. His hand releases your cheeks and with the other, he gently strokes the top of your head, all so softly it’s as though making any sudden movements might cause you to jump away. 

There’s a faint taste of toothpaste on your mouth when Jake pulls away, your eyes still closed for a second longer than his as he maps your expression, not even trying to hide his pleased smile when they do open to the sight of his face still hanging over yours.

Jake steals another quick kiss on your chin, heaving himself back up with a forced and slightly dramatic groan.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he tells you quietly, his voice suddenly hoarse as though kissing you has winded him. His chest is falling a bit more unevenly than before — has kissing you left Jake with the same fluttery feeling as it has with you?

You nod, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip to prevent the blinding smile from shining through. You’ve gotta leave him with a little bit of yearning — he can’t have it too easy.

“Really hope you don’t die in the morning,” you reply.

He laughs unexpectedly. “You know what? Me too.”

The lab is silent.

After so many weeks of being surrounded by the noise of other people, it is jarring to be alone. The metal lab groans in the wind, the frosty glass rattling as it gusts past the container you now call home. Outside, the front of the cliffside the shack is perched upon is glowing vibrantly, pulsing with energy, but unlike a few days ago, you have no desire to head outside, all too content in the toasty warmth you’ve curated in the lab.

You try not to feel too alone — in the link chamber, Jake is in deep like a tick, probably partying with the clan. With no distress calls from Grace and no disturbances from Jake’s most likely agonising session in the unit, you assume that all went well with Jake’s iknimaya. He must be buzzing, light and dizzy with whatever native alcohol he’s been rewarded with.

Meanwhile, here you are, waiting for one of your watercolour paintings to dry. A quiet night in the lab constitutes a well-earned night off, although you could consider your relaxing drawings of yesterday’s sample research if you really needed to. 

With your knee up by your chest, you swirl the lab chair in a lazy circle whilst you wait, listening to the silence grow tinny as it stretches on. It occurs to you that you actually don’t enjoy being alone the way you used to. You’ve grown so accustomed to noise that without it, the world feels hopelessly lonely. You find with shock and horror that you even miss Norm complaining about everything, followed by some fancy Grace quip or Trudy laugh. 

You don’t know how much longer Jake may be in there for. A couple more minutes? Hours? The longer you stare in the direction of the link chamber, the more anxious you feel.

So, maybe being all alone in the Hallelujah Mountains wasn’t what you dreamed it was going to be, except for the opportunity it gave you to colour a few pictures of stems and flower buds.

Sighing, you dab your little finger into one of the dry petal paintings and swirl the paintbrush in the water again, deciding to start on colouring in some of the bioluminescence outside into a spare square of space. In no way, shape or form are you an artist, but the painting calms you, and welcomingly takes your mind off the fact that you’ve been alone in this lab pretty much since you woke up this morning. 

The paintbrush flicks over where you’re trying to imagine a tawtsngal from memory to spruce up the otherwise dull-looking painting of the view in front of you, and you’re just about to dip the paintbrush into the water to dilute the colour when you hear a rumble outside the shack.

Never a good sign.

You still, listening: the shack rattles twice, the table shaking, and for a moment you consider the possibility of there being a landslide nearby. With wide eyes, you jump up off your chair and rush to the window, peering out into the vibrant dark to check for any fallen rocks, but you see nothing besides grass and plants, and an even darker outline of jagged wings landing where Trudy normally lands her ship.

The ikran manifests into shape, a map of twinkling white freckles settling down in the short grass and screeching out in the night. You try to manage your breathing as you take in its sheer size; it raises up and screeches again, digging the speared claws under its spread of wing into the soft dirt beneath it and it bows down. 

For a moment, it does not register to you that someone is climbing down off their back until you see their starry shape jogging towards the window — your eyes are still glued to the proud ikran showing off in the night, settling down in one of the low yet fluffed out trees near the fyìpmaut tree Grace has become infatuated with.

When your eyes finally snap over to the approaching Na’vi, you let out an embarrassingly loud sigh of relief when you realise it’s Jake, followed by a strangled noise of shock when you realise, yet again, that it’s Jake. Avatar Jake. Big, blue and beautiful Jake, who is currently punching in a string of numbers into the door and letting himself inside the lab.

Your hands are trembling like crazy when the air pressurises around him, and you almost don’t even know what to do when the inside door unlocks and swings open, and in he comes. Jake glances around the lab in a crouch, looking somewhat uncomfortable as if he forgot just how large he was, and he grins when he finds you.

“Hey, my hì’i syulang,” he calls, his hands reaching in a fumble under the emergency exo-packs to fetch one of the AAS-RO2s secured in a rack underneath. They were rarely used unless Grace or Norm needed to for some reason bring their avatars inside for something and were too lazy to wake up and do it in their human bodies, and for some reason, seeing Jake fiddle with one and actually get it to work despite having never touched one before feels absurd to you.

You hum with interest once he’s successfully geared up, smiling when he looks at you for approval.

“Hey, yourself. You got good with Na’vi.”

“Practise makes perfect,” he shrugs, though looks too cocky for his own good now that you’ve complimented him on it.

“I’m not tiny, by the way. You’re just huge.”

“Yep,” Jake grins, stepping towards you with two equally huge strides. His eyes catch sight of the drawings on top of the table and he drops to a comfortable crouch by your side, his brows high as he asks, “Aw, you colouring?”

You scoff quietly. “It’s research. Botanical, legitimate research.”

His hands skim through the pages with interest and he hums. “Looks fun.” When he looks up, it’s outside of the window, and you follow his gaze back to the resting ikran outside. “Wanna draw him? He’s real cute.”

“I see you survived your iknimaya in one piece, mighty warrior,” you reply, feeling the muscles of his arms with a teasing smile, and Jake looks at you from the side and his gaze softens. “How was your party, then?”

“Good,” he nods thoughtfully, gaze averting as he looks one more time at his ikran before dedicating his attention solely on you. After all, you are what he came here for in the first place, if not to show off to then just to see. His eyes find yours again and he brushes one of his hands up over your forehead again, thumbing your hairline, gaze so soft and warm it could melt butter. 

“Grace came,” he continues, “the kids got her dancing by the fire. I tried some rank liquor, had to do my own ceremonial dance with about ten different people.” Jake’s smile widens affectionately, “Neytiri showed me the Tree of Voices. Utraya Mokri, the People’s direct link to Eywa.” You can’t help but smile with him as he tells you all of this. His happiness is infectious. “Eywa is…incredible. Grace needs to try it, she’d lose her mind.”

You laugh at that. “That could be your first course of action, Tsyeyk Suli.”

Jake’s entire face reshapes with adoration, so much so that he physically cannot stop himself as he pulls your head forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The action takes you by surprise — you’ve barely begun processing the kiss Jake left you with last night, let alone accepted the possibility of another one being given by the body that lay you over a rock once.

He pulls away, and when he does, you notice the lurching gesture in his chest, as though he's struggling to breathe, and you pointedly bring up the respirator around his neck and laugh.

“Damn. I took all your breath away. Chug some dioxide.”

Jake rolls his eyes but takes a sip of the CO2, eventually falling back into place. Now reminded of the tedious ritual he’s made himself a slave to by coming in here in his new favourite form, Jake quickly thinks back to whatever it was he was talking about and continues.

“Neytiri also told me that I have now earned my place in the village,” Jake begins again, his voice a little bit dreamy. More than anything, you wish you could have been there to be a part of the vision playing in Jake’s mind, to visualise his stories of the village and the forest and his place in all of it. 

“I may live in the village, so to speak, I can carve my own bow from the wood of Hometree.” When his eyes search your face hesitantly, he adds very slowly, “and I may also take a woman.”

“Oh,” you say, quickly scanning his own expression for anything out of the ordinary. When his eyes round in shape and his ears flatten against his head, the corners of his mouth twitching, you raise your eyebrows and ask, “and how do you feel about that?”

“Well, I told Neytiri that I had already chosen someone,” Jake tells you.

“Did you?”

He nods with a hum, trying not to look so amused, though failing horribly at it. “And so Neytiri told me that I should go and seek out my woman to tell her that I have made my decision. She was a little eager to get rid of me, actually.”

“And…that’s why you’re here?” you ask, almost regretting it when Jake opts for staring at you for a second too long, in a silence too concerning. Then, he smirks, brows high, eyes narrowed, like you asking is the silliest thing in the entire world. 

“Obviously, Spellman.” Jake laughs as you do, bemused, “Jesus. For such an intelligent woman, you’re so stupid sometimes.”

“Takes stupid to know stupid,” you reply.

“Exactly,” he croons, face so close to you that he’s able to push his face forward to kiss your lips without much effort at all.

It’s not as though you forgot what being around Jake’s avatar felt like; it’s only been a few days since you last encountered him, and yet it feels like the first, your stomach rolling over itself like a tsunami as Jake’s lips find your own in perfect harmony.

Admittedly, you had expected your next tumble with Jake to be in his human body, but now that he’s here, now that he’s already flown himself out here to find you, you can’t think of any reasons to turn him away.

Last time, any possibility of kissing Jake had been next to impossible thanks to the exo-pack, but now, with nothing in the way, Jake relishes in the feeling of your lips against his own, his large hand cradling the side of your face. 

Of course, he’s kissed you before, yesterday at a strangle angle to accommodate his unfortunate wheelchair. Now, there’s nothing to hinder his progress, nothing to prevent his plans — it’s just you and him, alone in the lab, exactly how he wanted it to be.

It’s as though the gravity in the room is being sucked out when Jake pulls away; you feel like you’re floating merrily off the chair, leaning forward as though to find him in the space he’s created, and Jake laughs from his throat and sweeps his gaze down your body. 

No longer are you wearing your favoured shorts or tank top. To his delight, you’re in a long t-shirt that hangs around your knees, presumably only panties underneath, and his mouth twitches with intrigue.

“Cute outfit,” Jake says appreciatively, using his finger to lift up the bottom of the shirt and peering at your thighs, seeking out the bite he left you with the night before. When he finds the very faint outline, he laughs boyishly and glances back at you, “even cuter tattoo, honey.”

You laugh, and then Jake runs his finger across the nearly gone indent and hitches your shirt higher up over his wrist, the sight of your baby blue panties peeking into view as his grin widens. 

“Why are you grinning so hard?”

Jake shrugs; now both of his hands are at your hips, shirt pulled up at the front, his golden gaze trained on your crotch. 

“Just happy,” he says simply. Though he appears perfectly content zoning out on the sloping curve of your crotch, Jake looks up and says, “Did you know I was coming?”

“Well, I expected the real Jake to be here by now,” you confess, thinking about Jake lying in the link unit controlling his avatar with his hands on your hips.

Jake’s brows furrow, his smile flattening to an amused line. “I’m real.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Forget about him.”

“I like him.”

“And that makes me really happy, believe me, but this is real for me. This right here, you and me,” Jake says, his voice a little lighter than it was before, which is the only real way you can tell that he’s not joking.

This is serious for Jake. It’s not just part of a ploy to piss off Norm. Jake has become undone with his feelings, in a way that is so unbecoming of him that it’s actually embarrassing; now that he’s practically on his knees in front of you telling you it’s real, telling you that he’s pretty much told Neytiri and by extension the whole village that you’re his and he is yours, you know without a shadow of doubt in your heart that he is being sincere.

“Believe me, honey. It brings me no greater joy than knowing that you’ve been interested in me since we first met—”

“Well. If we’re being technical, then it was just before you got chased by the than—”

Jake simply frowns. “Hey. I’m not fucking around here, Spellman. I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”

“…Sorry. Go on.”

“…If I knew in my heart that I could give you what I want you to have from my wheelchair, I so would, but everything is easier like this. I can move. I can do whatever you want. I can be whatever you want. And you took all of me so well. Didn’t even struggle. You’re a perfect woman.”

“I love that you think that, but, you know, you're already everything I want from that wheelchair, Jake,” you tell him, and his ears pin back in surprise and his entire expression falls; he doesn’t look upset, however. Rather, he looks in awe. “You don’t have to walk or fuck me on a rock to give me everything you think I want. I just want you. Everything else is a huge, incredibly pleasant bonus.” 

You reach out for his face and rest your hand over his cheek, feeling his skin on your own. He feels warm to the touch. 

“You know how I feel,” you continue quietly, “and I like every second with you. I just wanted you to know for sure that even though you met my needs in your avatar, you never needed to.” Jake has barely moved an inch since you started talking, but when you add, “Even though I really like you like this,” Jake’s face twitches, like he’s trying his best to hold himself together. “A lot, actually.”

The splitting smile that stretches on Jake’s face fills your chest with a giddy type of glee.

Then, Jake leans forward, his forehead tilted against yours. Being so close to his face is unreal — you don’t know what to look at first: the lines of tanhì over his skin, the smooth look of it, the slight pink of his snout, the tug on the inside of his lip...

“You’re mine, Spellman,” Jake murmurs.

“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, matching his own look of delight and feeling a fluttering rush through your chest when Jake secures his hands in a cradle around your face, bringing your lips back together with a sudden fierceness that, this time, is not met with surprise.

Unlike before, unlike the short kiss that had felt stolen between you, you’re surprised by Jake’s eagerness. His mouth presses against yours with a gentle firmness, as though not to hurt you but at the same time, enough to convey just how badly he’s wanted this. His mouth is warm against yours, the glossy sheen of saliva over his bottom lip slippery and inviting as his kisses become more open-mouthed.

Jake kisses you for so long you wonder how he can even breathe — even for you, it feels breathless. When he pulls away, you pinpoint the slight spasm in his chest, the tight veins in his neck as he fights his impulses. With a small laugh, you push the mask around his neck up to his lips and force him to capture his breath, occupying your lips elsewhere in the meantime.

Trailing your mouth across his cheek and jaw, it’s as though Jake is gulping down as much CO2 as he can manage to keep stored inside of him to go a little longer. Eventually, his chest rises and falls evenly while you gently smooch the expanse of skin under his jaw, catching the soft scent of whatever powders and paints he may have been decorated with earlier in the night. 

The mask falls back down past his collar and he shifts; Jake’s hand pulls at your face, his thumb on one cheek and fingers on the other as he guides your mouth back to his, wasting no time in getting back to whatever he was doing before his lungs so rudely interrupted him. 

If he had to die losing breath while kissing you, then it would be a suitable way for him to go.

“Okay,” he breathes, pulling away for a brief second before planting a wet kiss back on the pucker of your lips. You can taste the honey from the alcohol he’s been drinking all night in your mouth. “Up and out.”

With that, Jake lifts you up by your waist and ungraciously tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Then, with his back hunched slightly, he moves with familiarity through the metal corridors of the lab, navigating his way to the bunks. 

Even like this, you feel so high off the ground, and you squeal with surprise and fist at nothing behind his back. He’d never let you fall, not that the landing would damage you in any physical way except for your pride, but still, you stare at the moving metal beneath his feet in a blur, half excited and half full of nerves.

The floor plan opens up to the bunk chamber, the familiar worn woven rug that Grace had been given from the villagers and had put on the floor appearing in view. You know confidently that there will be as little room back here as there was in the workspace at the front; the bunks are bolted to the wall but barely big enough for human bodies, let alone avatars, but Jake already has a solution.

He sets you down, his hands already working to pull your shirt up and over the top of your head. Not that he has to work very hard at all — you’re already helping him undress you, pulling the shirt up over your head, marvelling at the wide-eyed look of excitement on Jake’s face.

“Missed these,” he says, carelessly tossing your shirt to the bunks off at the side. He wastes no time in moving closer to you, his mouth attaching itself to the curve of your breasts, his tail flicking happily at your noisy approval. 

With Jake mouthing around your nipple, the taunting graze of his teeth making you shudder, you let your body float into an astral plane of goodness and close your eyes, your head lulling to the side.

His eyes flicker up, greedily memorising every lift and twitch on your face until he catches sight of your hands sliding down your sides from his arms, fingers inching towards your little blue panties. He grins, tongue flat against your nipple, and after pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of where he’s been sucking, Jake breaks away and harmlessly slaps his hands over yours, holding them in place as you hook your fingers under the panty fabric.

“It’s like you’re doing this to me on purpose,” he groans, lips pressing kisses all across and down your body as his mouth makes its way to the smooth skin of your tummy. Jake rubs his thumbs in circles on your lower stomach, eyes finding yours. 

“Doing what?”

“Being so fucking sexy,” mutters Jake, his tongue licking like a lion against your naval. The feeling makes you squirm and laugh slightly, your hands flying up from the clasp of his hands to the sides of his head. 

There had been the expectation that perhaps human Jake would roll himself towards you once he got back, excited and turned on by your uncharacteristic lack of clothing. Instead, it had been avatar Jake who found you first, but it’s not as though your efforts have exactly gone to waste. If anything, they are met with the highest amount of appreciation.

Jake tugs the top of your panties with his teeth, moving them off your skin and down until he can see the sloping curve of your pubis, until he can smell the lust between your folds. Stopping him from stripping you bare is the last thing you want, but still, you look down at him playfully.

“Do you really need to take all my clothes off, Sully?” you ask, feeling his teeth graze on your skin as he unwillingly releases your panties from his mouth.

“Yes,” he replies, like it was obvious. Why would he want you to stand there in your panties all night when there were more fun things to do?

“Well, what about you?” Your hands slowly trail down from his face to his broad shoulders, fingers ghosting across the darker lines etched into his skin. Jake shudders slightly, his ears pricked tall, and they twitch in amusement when you point out the same thing he did when he bent you down over the rock.

“One of us is halfway there, and it’s not you.”

Between his legs, same as always, hangs his tewng, perfectly and teasingly in place of the large growth hiding beneath, and your eyes glance at them pointedly. Your gaze lingers there until Jake takes the hint, his smile turning lop-sided as he sniggers and reluctantly pulls away from you.

“As you wish,” he croons, his hands swiftly shifting to the flimsy little string that he so courageously entrusts to hold his tewng together. Full of anticipation, you roll back on the heels of your feet as the knot undoes behind his back, and the strings cascade down as the fabric loosens and pools to the floor in a puddle.

Jake's cheeks are aching with how much he’s smiling. Any cool composure he wanted to pretend he had is betrayed by the smile that has taken up permanent residence on his face, the enthusiastic swish of his tail beating against his back and the floor behind him. 

With your eyes still trained on the stiff arousal between Jake’s legs, you bite your bottom lip in an effort to restrain yourself and smooth your hands over the weaved sheath fastened over his chest.

“Miss me?” Jake asks, eyes pinned to yours as you peel back the sheath and gently set his blade and armour to the side. Now, the only things on Jake’s body are your hands and the bands around his arms, tightly outlining both his muscles and pudges of blue skin.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

“I know you did,” he continues anyway, pressing a swift kiss to your stomach and hooking his fingers back through your panties. He appreciates the blue more than he’d care to admit — you probably didn’t do it on purpose, picking blue when it's the very colour of his existence, but it’s a nice touch despite that. “Can smell you.” 

Jake twists the fabric around his finger like a ringlet and drags the panties down your legs, and once they’re bunched down by your ankles, he takes a deep inhale and secures his gaze between your legs, his chest rising and falling.

His hands instantly shift to your thighs, holding them as he gently, yet forcefully, widens your feet apart. Your pussy parts with the movement, the wet smell filling Jake’s nose like a drug. Behind him, his tail thumps against one of the stack of black storage boxes, and he groans with pleasure.

“Fucking perfect,” he says, a thumb moving to swipe up the partition of your pussy. The familiar feeling of it swiping makes you tense up, hands tightening around Jake’s shoulders. “My perfect girl.” 

With another kiss planted against your naval, Jake pulls you closer to him, mumbling under his breath and against your skin a string of words you can barely hear.

He saves himself the unflattering carpet burn from shimmying across Grace’s rug and picks himself up, one hand on the floor and his other arm and hand keeping you flush against him while he adjusts himself on the ground. 

Once he’s lying flat on the floor on his back, he grins up at you and guides you over him, gaze flashing to the approaching pussy he wants nothing more than to shove his face into.

“Come’ere,” he says quietly, tapping a finger against his chin while trying to bring you closer with his other hand. It would be very easy for Jake to just pull you forward — you’re not a weak human being, but you still have nothing on his Na’vi strength, and you know this. 

You slowly step towards him, your feet on either side of his body, a warm flush engulfing you as you stare down in amazement at the eagerness of Jake’s expression, the giddy movements of his body. He can barely stay still.

“You…want me to sit on your face?”

“Clearly.”

Though you’re already straddling him, hands trembling, you ask, “What if you suffocate and die?”

At that, Jake laughs, sliding his hands up the length of your legs and pushing down slightly, until your knees buckle and you’re all but hovering over his lips, feeling the chuckles of laughter brush against your bare skin.

“It’s the only way I’d wanna go,” he tells you. “A true warrior’s death.”

You scoff, anxiously positioning above him. “How would I explain that to Grace?”

“With pride, hopefully,” and then he helps bring you down until you're comfortably positioned over his mouth, his tongue flat against you, your own mouth suddenly falling into a circular shape of pleasure.

“Oh!” you gasp. Although Jake has been between your legs before, it hadn’t felt like this. The refined, little, rough ridges of Jake’s tongue brush against you; his tongue feels like a cats in texture, prone and wet as you slowly grind across it, Jake’s hands back around your body though he barely even moves you. 

Almost as soon as you take a seat on his tongue, Jake groans again, the satisfied sound grumbling from his throat and against your cunt. In all of his attempts to relive the memory of being between your legs, Jake forgot how good you tasted.

Around your waist, his hands tighten before adjusting themselves to help move you against his mouth, his tongue curling up once you’re coated in your own juice and his saliva. 

There is a slight ringing in your ears that you’re thankful for, but the sound of Jake against your pussy is no doubt erotic, making Jake’s body twitch and his cock harden uncomfortably up against his stomach.

You’re cautious with putting all of your weight on Jake’s head, still lifting up instinctively off his mouth as he runs his tongue across your pussy, prodding the top against your hole and gorging himself on your taste.

The feeling of his mouth so firm against you is intense compared to the other night, where Jake had all but pinned you down with his arm and had his way. He seems to grow fed up with your caution and his hands tighten around you, bringing you down to rest your weight entirely on his face. He groans, arms and hands locked in place, his ears smushed by your knees.

“Fuck,” he grumbles, his baritone voice vibrating against you. You moan at that, your hands coming to fist at the pretty beads hanging down by his face. If the tug hurts, he doesn’t show it; Jake only moves you harder against his mouth, his eyes tightly closed in pleasure until they all of a sudden burst open, his golden irises boring up into your face as you stare back.

You watch his eyes flickering from side to side, memorising every pull and tug against your features as you grind yourself on his mouth. His tongue is hot against you, his hands curling around your thighs possessively to hold you in place. 

Now that the feeling of him plush against your pussy is more familiar, you chase his tongue, moving against him until he’s prodding exactly where you need him the most. 

Jake’s mouth shifts, his tongue flicking against your clit while his hand slides from your thigh to the gap between your legs. One of his fingers stirs up the slicky wetness residing between your folds before slowly pushing up, slipping past the clenching resistance of your hole. Without meaning to, you smack your hips down on Jake’s face, feeling his finger sink up to the knuckle inside of you as a low grunt sounds from his throat. 

You’re somewhat relieved that Jake is in his avatar and can withstand the full weight of your body throttling him, but he almost seems to relish in the feeling, a second finger wiggling its way past your folds and up your snatch with the other. The thick widening of his fingers makes you gasp, toes curling, and one of your hands releases his hair and grips at the stack of boxes behind Jake’s head.

“Mmf—fuck, Jake,” you rasp, voice broken and high and whiney. A shaky exhale catches in your throat as his fingers fuck inside of you, and your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they rise and fall over his hand like his fingers were his cock — you’re bouncing slowly on them while he smirks to himself, tongue flicking over your swollen clit, mouth and chin smothered in saliva and juice.

“You likin’ that, honey?” he asks, planting a sloppy kiss on your thighs as he curls his fingers inside of you. “Feel good?”

“Uh huh,” you whine. At this point, you cannot bring yourself to look at him and all of his smugness. You feel his smile widen against your thigh as he nips at the skin, licking a stripe before turning his mouth back to your pussy. 

“God… Jake, oh my—” You don’t finish that sentence, don’t even get the chance to.

It is embarrassing how close to an orgasm you feel. Jake’s barely begun, barely spent any time at all between your thighs and yet you can feel your body seizing, a small ball of warmth expanding inside of you. Jake’s eyes are still glued to you and the arched view of your body over his face, and you can practically feel his gaze burning into you, willing you to look back at him.

“You gonna cum up there, baby girl?” mumbles Jake, his voice muffled by your pussy. If it weren’t for the vibrations his voice sends up your pussy making you aware of his question, you might have missed it over the sound of your moaning and whimpering.

His fingers prod at the spongey insides of your pussy, one prod in particular making your hips buck furiously across his mouth.

Jake makes a noise of happy surprise, and like the smug asshole he is, he repeats the action, fucking his finger into the spot that makes you wriggle on top of him. The unravelling warmth inside of you is spreading; you can barely feel your toes, your thighs shaking around him.

“Jesus, Spelly,” he chuckles, his erection so hard and uncomfortable by his belly button that he grumbles to himself. That needs to be attended to immediately, if you weren’t so stubborn as to drag out the orgasm you so obviously want to have. 

Jake moves his fingers faster inside of you, the other hand that’s around your thigh snaking to your hips to sink you down harder against him. You feel his knuckles at your entrance, his tongue pausing lazily at your clit.

“I—” you gasp, voice catching with surprise. Then, to his amazement, you frantically look down at him with a wide-eyed look of desperation. “Can I—?”

“Yep,” he grunts, greedily holding you firmly against his mouth as your hips rut like an animal. After a humiliatingly small amount of time, you feel your entire body tense with a blistering heat, and when you cum onto Jake’s tongue, it is the sweetest relief.

The burst of sweet white fluid that drips into Jake’s mouth is taken with desperation. Jake’s tongue coaxes it all out of you, his voiced approval rumbling into your pussy as he drinks it up. Meanwhile, your head is positively spinning, your vision white and starry and limbs numbed. You can barely catch your breath, and you have no idea how Jake is still alive down there, the mask around his neck virtually forgotten. 

When Jake has finally milked all that he can from your cunt, he gently pushes you up and off his mouth, your whole lower body trembling like a rabid dog as he shifts you down onto his chest. Your cunt is fluttering with the absence of his tongue and fingers, the heartbeat between your legs pulsing intensely as you stare down at Jake’s face.

You’ve never seen a man more content with a mouthful of your cum before. A sheen of white coats his tongue as he laughs breathlessly, his pupils wide. Then, as though he’s only just remembered that he needs to breathe, Jake fumbles for his mask and pulls it up over his face, gulping down the CO2 whilst simultaneously trying to compose himself. 

“My god,” he splutters, his chest rumbling beneath you as he laughs again. You feel sticky all over. “I love this pussy, Spellman.”

The compliment tears a laugh from your throat. “Gee, thanks.”

Laughter fills the space between you for a moment, but when you look at Jake he’s looking up at the ceiling, his mouth parted and his breaths heavy, the mask still in his hand by his chin. Now that he’s gone quiet in an effort to catch his breath, you come to the abrupt realisation that you’re in the lab, in the bunk chamber, sitting naked on Jake’s chest after cumming in his mouth. 

It feels hilarious all of a sudden, though you don’t voice the amused vision in your mind. Jake seems content doing whatever he’s doing, a dazed look on his face, and for a moment, you sit there until your thighs clench and the sticky cum between your thighs begins to dry, and then you slowly heave yourself up off him.

Lifting his head up off the floor, Jake startles and looks at you in confusion. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting up,” you wince as you move, but Jake’s frown deepens. He lets the mask fall by the side of his neck, his hands speedily rushing to your waist to lock you in place. 

“What? No, no, no, no, we’re not done yet,” Jake blurts, his brows high and eyes wide. 

“More?” you ask, surprised.

“Obviously,” he splutters, bemused. “Don’t be so selfish, I’ve been missing you like crazy out there.” 

You fall down the length of his body as Jake sits up, your pussy brushing past the hard tip of his cock. You gnaw at your lip bashfully — okay, maybe you had somehow forgotten about that. 

His cock sits between your bodies, the thick and tense figure of it flat against your stomach as Jake leans his face towards yours with a disgraced look of unhappiness.

“You thought you were gonna cum and then just get off?”

“At least let me catch my breath,” you laugh helplessly.

“You’ll live,” he tuts. “Goddamn. Definitely Norm’s sister, you’re cold.”

Hearing the childish whine in his voice makes you laugh out loud, though his look of unhappiness softens when you smile at him, stroking the side of his face.

“Aw, come on, big guy, you don't mean that,” you try, pushing yourself up against the tight wedge between your bodies. He flinches slightly, the crease between his brows lifting with intrigue. Try all he wants, but he soon gives up on looking displeased and grins back at you. 

“You don’t even have to do anything,” Jake suggests thoughtfully, his face tilted as he tries to entice you. 

In all honesty, you have no protests against fucking Jake. In fact, the thought of his cock being buried in your stomach again is nothing short of a need for you. He’s not the only one who’s been thinking about it all this time — it’s not a competition, but you’ve been daydreaming about the cock between his legs a lot longer than he’s been thinking about you.

“All you’d need to do is sit on it, really.” You tune back into Jake’s voice. You don’t know how much you missed, but the message is abundantly clear.

You smooth your hands down his neck, fiddling with the beaded choker. “I don’t think it can fit in today.”

Jake barks out a laugh. “Please. It fit fine before, princess.”

“Yeah, before you destroyed my vagina permanently. I’ll be too tight!”

That only makes Jake look more pleading. “That’s a good thing!”

“Jake, I—”

“Fine, then just the tip,” he tries, surging forward and pressing a desperate kiss to your lips. You taste the tangy sweetness of your cunt that Jake loves so much on his lips; seeing him so desperate for you to sit on his cock would be funny if it weren’t so sexy.

You bite your lip in thought as he peppers a string of kisses across your face, as if trying to persuade you.

“You only have to take the tip, that’s all. You’re dripping, you’ll take it no problem, but you don’t even have to work or do anything. I’ll do everything.”

“You’re begging,” you state flatly.

“I know,” he drawls in a whine that makes you roll your eyes. “But you’re my woman and I need this pussy like a fucking flower needs water.”

“According to Norm’s research,” you start, reaching for the tip of his cock with a hidden smile, “rainwater and Pandora plants are—”

“Fuck,” Jake laughs into your mouth, his teeth bared in a grin as he kisses you between his words, “off. You’re so annoying.” Another kiss, though his heart soars when your body rises slightly off his thighs, “Always yappin'.” His tail thrums excitedly behind him as you position yourself over his cock, brows knitted together. “Always going on and on about something.”

“You want me to sit on it or not?” you ask bluntly, but your half hearted attempt at sternness is seen through immediately.

“Hell yeah, mama,” he quips, hands already busy on your hips as he tries to sink you down on his cock. 

You stifle a laugh at his eagerness. Who would have guessed that Jake would be begging you to let him fuck you? Two days ago, it would have been hard to imagine.

“Shut up then,” you mutter, but he graciously says very little besides his own personal vocabulary of vulgar words when the tip of his cock pushes into you. 

It goes in so easily that you know Jake is trying his absolute hardest to remain true to his word. Your pussy lets him in with virtually no refusal, swallowing the tip of his cock so flawlessly that he physically tenses, his hands tightening around you as he lifts you up and down on the tip, being ever so careful as to not accidentally sink you all the way down to the base.

Even just the tip of his dick elicits such a primal response from your throat, your eyes blown open. Jake’s barely given you breathing room since your last orgasm, and the overstimulating feeling of his cockhead loyally spearing inside of you is mind-blowing. 

He grunts desperately against your mouth, eyes closed as he tries to reign in his deepest impulses. You press a kiss to his lips; you know how hard it is for him to hold himself back. It is as though your body is remembering who he is, how his cock felt deep inside of you, and when you next feel Jake’s hands lifting you up off the tip and sinking you back down, his eyes immediately blow open when he feels you clench around him like a fist.

“I—shit,” he blurts, momentarily letting go as you sink back down on his cock, the tip of it pushing deeper inside of you as more of his cock pistons inside. He looks apologetic for a moment, because he didn’t mean for you to take more than the tip when that was all he had promised, but after hearing the strangled and high-pitched moan that escapes your lips, he rides his hope for a moment and curls his arms around your body, moulding his mouth against yours.

“Goddamn,” Jake whispers, catching every gasp and breath you take and give. “That’s right, beautiful, you can do it.”

Whimpering, your trembling hands come to hold his waist while he lounges back, his back leaning trustingly against the stack of crates under the window, his hands remaining firm around your body. Jake watches in anticipation as you drag yourself up off his cock, leaving behind a shining trail of juice down the deep blue of his length. 

While you’re up there, Jake takes a quick gulp of CO2 — the sound of him taking a deep breath as he contents himself with watching you makes your heartbeat quicken, although you’re much more focused on sliding your pussy across his tip, the roundness of it slipping up your slit while a litany of moans produce from your mouth.

And then, by happy surprise, Jake realises he doesn’t have to fight it anymore when you go to slowly sink back down on him and slip, half of his dick disappearing up your cunt with almost no resistance whatsoever, and the breathless gasp that fills his ears is nothing short of sinful.

“Fuck yeah,” he moans, sitting up restlessly with his lips on your mouth again, as his hands complete his desire of sinking his cock deeper up your pussy. You whimper into him, the dull ache in your stomach intensifying when you feel his dick spearing up into your cunt, his hips rutting underneath you. 

He did his best, but he can’t hold back anymore. The sight of you swallowing up his cock is the very picture of perfection. 

It was one thing seeing you with your legs spread on that rock. It’s another thing entirely to have you around his dick like a flesh-light.

“You said just the tip,” you whimper.

“You slipped, I didn’t make you take more of it.”

“I—” You groan as his hand grips around your waist like you’re just a doll. “God, you’re so big.”

“Yeah,” he sniggers, lips still against yours like he’s glued there. “But look how well you take me.”

Your attempts to make him feel bad are pathetically wasted; you’re drenched, your wetness like a lube to Jake as he pistons his hips upwards. The squelch between you is embarrassingly loud, although to Jake it is the most heavenly sound in the world. 

He grunts into your mouth, softly whispering encouraging yes’ into every word you attempt to speak but fail at saying.

“A perfect fit,” Jake mumbles, his tongue flicking past your lips with a gasping grunt, “’s'like I was made for you.”

There’s nothing you can say to that, nothing coherent at least. In your best effort to please Jake, you suck in a deep breath and lift, only to bottom out and sink to the base of his cock. It feels like Jake’s buried near your lungs; he’s so deep, much deeper than he felt at the rock. 

Jake shifts back against the boxes stacked behind him. Then, he gracefully lifts his hips, shoving more of himself up there until he can see the dent of his dick in your tummy. He groans appreciatively, eyes darting back to your face after marvelling at the size of him buried inside of you.

“You’re so good,” he mutters, his breath kind of shaky as he takes in the image of you, looking all spent on his cock. He picks up on the struggling shake of your legs and feels your cunt tighten around him. “Lemme fuck you nice, mama.”

The speed at which you go limp on his cock tells him you have no protests. Jake secures his wide hands around your waist and tightens, focusing all of his energy into his arms as he lifts you up his cock and slams you back down. Both of you moan at the same time, and the clear image of you fucked out and exhausted in his lap makes his dick twitch inside of you.

A heat simmers between your legs — Jake has reduced you to a hole to fuck and you can’t even be bothered to move anymore. You can trust that your body will make room for him, and you can trust that Jake will be careful as he has his way with you. With that in mind, you relax like putty in his hands, shapeless as he fucks into you.

For a while, Jake says nothing of significance. It is as though he is buffering or on a loop, entirely focused on jerking you on his dick, his pupils blown black and wide as he zones out on the sweat lining your chest, the soft rise and fall of your tits as you bounce on his crotch. You watch him the whole time, eyes half-lidded and glazed but unmoving; he is a man in Heaven, in his greatest element. 

There is nowhere he would rather be than here, and there is nothing you’d rather be doing than giving your body up for the man you have become completely enamoured with.

One particular thrust inside of you makes you cry out unexpectedly, and his eyes flicker back up to find yours. His dick punches back up to where he last found himself, desperately searching for the spot that made you cry out, and when he finds it, a lazy smirk lifts on his lips.

“You’re a dream.”

Your mouth opens, and another blubbery cry falls out without you thinking: “Yes…m'yours, Jake..."

Not exactly what he said, but his chest swells with pride regardless.

“Damn straight,” he grunts, flicking his hips roughly. You choke a noise of surprise, feeling the coil of pleasure tighten in your belly right as Jake for some reason begins to move. He picks himself up off the rug and lifts you, spinning until he finds a surface he can set you down on. The first thing he finds is the little desk near the door, and he clears it with a sweep of his arm and wraps his arms around you tightly.

The cool metallic surface makes you shudder, although, with the way he spears himself back inside of you, the warmth quickly returns to consume your body. Jake bows his chest over you, fucking himself between your legs and watching with fascination at his cock disappearing past your folds. It looks the same as it did last time, to his delight, and he sucks in a hiss of breath, reaching for the mask again.

“Mmm, Jake, I really can’t anymore,” you rasp out, wrapping your legs desperately around his waist and clinging to the round shape of his biceps. He groans loudly once the mask falls back down from his face, his lips curling to a pout.

“You can’t cum yet,” he protests dumbly.

“Jake,” you say again, already feeling your orgasm threatening to spill. His eyes flash with worry, though you can’t imagine what he might have to be worried about. “I need to—”

“Please,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek quickly, his voice a mumble against your skin as he says, “just a bit longer.”

You whimper right into Jake’s ear, his hips staggering into you for a second. More than anything, you want to find your release, to give up and let go and take a breather, but the desperation to make Jake happy finds itself taking precedence. 

In your heart, you know that Jake is currently on cloud nine, overjoyed just with fucking you like this — if you came right now, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. More than likely, he’d just carry on. Still, you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth and your whole cunt clenches tightly around him, which he takes as a silent order to keep going, and he receives the message loud and clear.

Now, he is a man on a mission — see how long you can go until you cum all over him.

Jake would happily spend all night between your legs, fucking the hole he’s stamped his name on, filling you up with so much cum you’d be finding it for days. Something chemical has happened to him since acting on his greatest desires; he dreads to think what he’d be doing, how he’d be feeling if he hadn’t been inspired by Norm’s hatred. 

To think that he’d be at his party in the village, maybe being swarmed by curious Omatikaya women with fascinations for their newest clan member, potentially even trying to redirect the feelings he has elsewhere… 

No. He schools the thoughts into silence. Why fret over the what-ifs when the present is the most perfect thing in the universe?

Jake drives his hips forward, shifting his lips from your cheek to your mouth and accepting the breathless kiss you eagerly give him. Your arms slacken; you keep one hand poised loyally on his bicep while the other reaches for the side of his face, fisting around one of the dishevelled braids to the side of his head. The burn of you tugging on them is barely even noticeable, or if it is, he doesn’t show it. Jake just presses his mouth against yours with a profound laziness, his hips slowing as he thrusts into you at a comfortable pace.

A part of you bursts open; as Jake pounds into your pussy in an uncharacteristically slow manner, he kisses you each time his cock burrows back inside. Your face is unbelievably hot as one of his thick arms curves around your back and appears by the side of your head, hand cradling your face. He has you pinned in place, yet with such little force that it would be easy for you to slither free if you wanted.

You want nothing less. Not when Jake is kissing you like it’s his favourite thing in the world to do. Not when your body is so numb and warm you can barely even feel your legs anymore. Not when the man you would do anything for is right where he belongs — up your snatch, on your mouth, smiling between each kiss.

His tail swirls from side to side slowly, content as he listens to the wet sound of your mouth against his own, the squelch of your drenched pussy filling his ears as they prick to hear himself sinking inside of you. Jesus fuck, you’re so wet — if it wasn’t making you so turned on at the thought of Jake being over the moon from the sound of it, then you’d be squirming in embarrassment.

Jake grins into your mouth, sniggering as the soaking sloppy sounds grow more pronounced. Knowing that he’s grinning because of that, and because he knows he’s the cause of it, your bottom lip curls into a pathetic whimper.

“Hear that?” It’s obvious that you can, he knows that. 

How he wishes you could smell it the way that he can — the smell of the sticky mess between both of your legs is nothing short of incredible; it's so sweet that when he inhales he almost shudders. You wouldn’t even need heightened Na’vi senses to smell the sex in the air, to smell Jake on your skin, to smell you over Jake’s face and body. 

A witty reply is on the tip of your tongue, but as Jake kisses you again, slobber around his mouth and yours, you can no longer fight the bubbling pleasure in your abdomen, the pressure that gets heavier the longer you hold out. 

Jake takes a sharp intake of breath, as if he can smell the distinct change in your body, the orgasm lapping over itself like a tidal wave until it breaches the surface — but his thrusting does not cease, not even when your entire body shakes beneath him, legs falling limp around his waist. And not even when he feels a wet warmth burst up over his chest, a horrified yet pleasured squeal ripping from your mouth as he glances down and sees your gushing release, the billows of cum pushing past the tight fit of his cock, and a shiny layer of juice on his chest.

He blinks in surprise, his eyes wide, and when his nose fills with the smell of you, the smell of your squirt over his torso, he laughs unexpectedly and lifts his head with the widest grin you’ve seen.

"Shit,” he laughs in disbelief, kissing away the aghast gape on your face. 

Even as he chuckles into you, you feel your face burning with embarrassment. It’s one thing to cum on Jake’s cock. It’s another thing to squirt on him. It’s an entirely different thing for Jake to find it hilariously sexy.

“I’m so sorry!” you blurt, hands immediately cupping Jake’s face. His nose furrows as his face twists, both in amusement and confusion.

“Why’re you saying sorry?” he asks, still trying to reign in his disbelieving laughs. It’s been a hot second since he made anyone squirt that hard, no less squirt down his chest. 

“I didn’t mean to do that,” you explain breathlessly. You barely even register the fact that Jake’s still thrusting into you until the numbness of your body subsides and each thrust upwards is met with a cry of overstimulated pleasure. “I’ve never done that, I—”

“You’re incredible,” Jake grins affectionately. You’re incredible.

Jake thinks he could go on for hours. He could go on until daybreak, until he heard the whirs of Trudy’s Samson over the top of the lab; he would continue fucking you until Norm stepped inside, until he found you both back here. But when you stare at him exhaustedly and smile back, his heart lurches out of his chest and changes his mind for him.

You feel Jake’s dick twitch inside of you, the feeling making you jolt slightly as he thrusts in a few more times, as if milking every last inch of your pussy until he’s forced to withdraw, and then he staggers forward, moaning loudly with a tight and sharp hiss, and a familiar warmth spurts in your stomach.

Jake’s back is bent over, his chest bowed over yours as he shudders through his orgasm; the unmistakable warmth of his cum pools in your stomach, ropes of it filling you up until it slips down past your quivering hole to the table beneath your ass and back. He groans a few times, fumbling for the mask before pressing it to his mouth. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. You could very well be floating up off the table for all you knew. 

Peering down at the sight of his hard dick still snuggled in your cunt, you watch the thick trails of his cum squeezing out of you. You kiss his temple while his head is still hanging low and mutter, “Fill me up, big guy.”

Jake moans, lips sealed closed — actually, it sounds more like a sob. “Jesus.”

“Give it to me,” you continue, murmuring the words against his head. Hey, you’re feeling much bolder now that he’s exhausted himself and you don’t have to worry about having another orgasm denied and then ripped out of you. 

Jake chuckles breathlessly, all of the breath back in his lungs now that he’s emptied himself inside of you. “Didn’t you say you were glad humans couldn’t get knocked up by Na’vi?”

“No? When?”

He scoffs, eyes lifting to yours as he levels you with a challenging look. “Oh, so you want that? Want me to breed you like a dog, Spellman? Fill you up, watch that tummy grow?”

The revelation of Jake’s unexpected breeding kink makes you laugh. Once, Jake had told the lab that he didn’t know if he wanted kids — didn’t think he’d be a good father, didn’t think he’d be able to cope with the pressure of it. Perhaps it’s his Na’vi instincts calling out in a tune, making him besotted with the idea, but either way, you grin at him playfully and press a kiss to his mouth. 

“Nah,” you assure him. His smile neither fades nor grows, thank goodness. “I’m in no rush for any of that, Sully.”

He sniggers, then. “Me too,” and after a quick kiss he slowly heaves himself out of you, watching your jaw slacken as he slides out with a sickeningly loud pop. “It’s fucking sexy to say it, though.”

Suddenly, as if he forgot for a moment, Jake’s head cranes to your cunt and as his cum swells near your hole, he grins and watches it as it threatens to drool out. When it does, down your ass cheek and onto the surface of the table, his tail thrashes in joy and his fangs glint in the light. 

“Yum,” he says, swiping his thumb across the little puddle of your cum and his and he sucks his lips around it, the little smack of his lips as he pulls it away making your thighs clamp together. “You taste good, honey.”

“It’s more you than me.”

Jake rises, his back still bent due to the low ceiling of the lab, but even now he’s looming over you, his hands reaching to help pull you up from your uncomfortable position to sit upright. You lift with a comically dramatic groan, and Jake rolls his eyes as you hunch forward, hands massaging your thighs sorely.

“I’m broken again,” you mumble, feeling the burn in your muscles as Jake takes himself to where his bunk is and fetches a towel from one of his storage boxes. By the time he gets back, the puddle of cum between your legs has doubled in size. 

“You’ll manage,” Jake tells you affectionately, laying the towel flat in his best attempt to milk up the cum still pulsing out of you. He looks at the towel with a cringe — he can only hope the smell and colour will come out in the laundry.

After Jake’s done his best to clean you up, he takes himself to the laundry shoot and tosses the towel inside, making his way back to you quickly before you can stand up and stalk off somewhere. 

“I brought you something, actually,” he tells you, suddenly thinking back to the gift he has strapped to his ikran’s leathers outside. 

You hum vaguely. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Neytiri helped me think of it before I got here. Just something quick and silly, but you’re gonna—”

“Oh, yeah,” you interrupt, reminded of how Jake ended up here in the first place. “Are you sure it was a good idea telling Neytiri that you already had a woman?”

Jake pauses. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing like that. Just that… Well, won’t she say something to the other villagers?” you think aloud. It had been on your mind in passing when Jake first told you when he’d arrived, but now that it’s back in your head, you can see Jake processing the thought before dropping to his haunches in a valiant effort to see you evenly. 

“She’s close with the village, that’s all,” you continue. “And with Grace, I imagine.”

He blinks dumbly. “Oh yeah.”

For a second, nothing is said. How could Jake have not thought of that?

Realistically, you know that Jake was just excited to tell someone that he had a woman in his life — you hadn’t been presumptuous enough to believe that Jake couldn’t find someone even if he hadn’t acted on his impulses a few nights ago, but even now that you know he meant you after all, you can’t help but think of all the ways it may come back to bite you in the ass.

“I mean,” Jake says slowly, tail flicking, “I was hoping we’d tell people eventually. I don’t wanna hide with you forever.”

“Wait, you want to tell people?”

He looks at you with a funny look of bemusement. “Obviously.”

“About us fucking?”

“What? Well, I mean, yes, in a sense, but more like that we’re together.”

“…Are we?”

“I thought you were the smart one.”

“I’m just… You wanna be with me?” you ask. You’re almost certain that you look and sound stupid, based on the way Jake is staring at you with a wild look of alarm, but, can he blame you? You were just about getting around Jake wanting to sleep with you — now, he’s basically asking you out.

Jake splutters out a nervous laugh. “Was that seriously not obvious?”

You don’t allow him to feel nervous as you reach for his arms in reassurance. The feeling of your hands around his wrists calms him almost immediately. 

“If you want to be my man, Jake Sully, there are requirements to meet.” His brows curve curiously, though the sloping smile on his face reappears, to your relief. “I will also need to speak with human Jake Sully about this development. This relationship goes three ways, as you know.”

“Fair enough,” he says, doing his best not to laugh at how cute he thinks you are. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy for you to just forget all about him, though.”

“Never gonna happen,” you stress to him. “And I need quality time with you. If we fuck all the time, I’m scared my vagina will actually break beyond repair. You have two bodies to please me with, I’ve only got the one. You have to go easy on me.”

“Noted,” he nods. It’s sweet how seriously he’s taking all of this. 

“And, last but not least…” You trail off and reach forward to kiss his lips again. Jake’s eyes flutter closed — his lips are still slightly tingly from kissing you stupid. You pull away all too quickly for his liking, and when he opens his eyes to look for you, his entire face softens affectionately. “We need to do something about Norm.”

Sighing dramatically, Jake weighs the very difficult options in his head. 

Become his woman by spending more time with you? Easy. Consider it already done. But kill all the fun and tell Norm before he figures it out the hard way? Jake’s lips curl into a scowl at the thought of such a marvellous opportunity going wasted.

��How about…we do all of that and let Norm find out by himself?” Jake suggests. It’s an even trade — you’ll both get what you want, and you’ll both feel scores of satisfaction at the end of it.

When you don’t say anything for a moment, Jake is prepared to sign his defeat and give in, but then, when you grin at him and shrug, he hears the holy gates of Heaven open up in his favour and the angels sing.

Yep. You’re his. He’s yours. 

Now he just can’t wait for everyone else to find out about it.

[earlysunshines]

L word

kim minji x fem!reader

synopsis: minji gets drunk while she’s away and you’re sent a video of her rambling on about how much she misses u

warnings: sappy sweet lovely ; minji a loser FORREAL i will never let this go. ; alcohol! yummmmmyyy ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: hello WHATS UP im HOME i have a new cat keychain and milk blush HOORAY anyways girlfriend of the year goes to

it’s the last day of minji’s stupid volleyball camp – the camp four hours away from you, her beloved girlfriend – and she’s surrounded by her teammates, a few bottles of soju and wine they somehow managed to sneak in, and the growing haze of too much alcohol. 

leaning her head against the back of the couch, she tries desperately to keep herself from losing her mind.

what’s pushing her to the edge isn’t just the alcohol—it’s the fact that she made the rookie mistake of glancing at her phone’s wallpaper. there you are, hair up, face bare, looking effortlessly beautiful as you make breakfast in the morning. you’re caught in the middle of a candid moment, gazing at the camera with a confused expression, your hand blurred as you try to grab the phone from her. 

(“hey!” you groan, rushing towards her with a spatula in your hand. minji laughs, backing away and pushing your head away with her hand, making you groan again. “delete that!”

“nuh uh.” minji grins at you, then puts her phone in her pocket. you still look annoyed, but minji finds it the best thing to wake up to. “what’s all this?” she asks, moving her head to to the side to eye the stove.

you blush, turning away and walking back to where the stove is. you check up on the four eggs you’re cooking, then mumble, “i figured since it’s your first time staying over at my place… i’d make you breakfast.”

it doesn’t show, other than the slight tint of pink on minji’s cheeks, but she might lose her mind, maybe even get down on one knee.

“aw, thanks.”)

the image is sweet, simple, and yet, to minji, you look absolutely adorable. it’s enough to make her heart ache with longing, the kind that no amount of soju can drown out.

minji tilts her head back and downs another shot, wincing as the burn slides down her throat. she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest. alcohol has never been her strong suit—not like you, who can handle a few drinks without batting an eye. minji’s a lightweight, and by the third shot, she’s already feeling the effects, regretting every dose more than she wants to admit.

around her, her teammates are lost in their own conversations, faces flushed from the alcohol. haewon, the team’s setter, has somehow managed to smuggle in a bottle of wine and is well past her limit, babbling on about some guy she’s been talking to and clinging onto bae defeatedly. 

minji tries to focus, to engage in the chatter, but her mind keeps wandering back to you. your image, your smile, the way you look at her—it all tugs at her heart, pulling her deeper into her thoughts, further away from the room full of laughter and slurred words. she checks her phone again after feeling it vibrate against the floor, immediately checking it and catching another glimpse of another photo of you in her lockscreen rotation; this time, she sees you studying in the background, the time covering apart of your head, and a few texts from you.

[y/n]

hey babe i hope you’re having fun! i’m going to sleep, goodnight! miss you xx see you tomorrow lovely

minji stares at her screen, her frown deepening as if the notifications had just announced the end of the world. she knows it’s the alcohol making her overly emotional, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling the weight in her chest. with a frustrated sigh, she lets her phone slip from her fingers, landing with a soft thud on the ground. the sudden movement draws the attention of her teammates, their chatter quieting as they turn to her.

“what’s wrong miss team captain?” ryujin teases, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

minji, usually the composed and level-headed one, surprises everyone when she lets out a dramatic whine and leans her head against danielle, who’s sitting next to her. the room falls silent as minji wraps her arms tighter around her knees, her voice small and filled with longing.

“i miss my girlfriend,” she confesses with a heavy sigh. she picks up her phone again, staring at the lock screen—another candid moment that you look adorable in. “i miss y/n so much.”

her teammates exchange glances, surprised by the rare display of vulnerability from their usually stoic captain, but they can’t help but smile at how deeply minji cares for you. hanni, the libero, is very entertained by this rare sight of minji. she pulls out her phone and snickers, pressing record and holding it up secretly. 

danielle lets minji sulk into her, she’s the only sober one in the room and is in the right mind to say anything meaningful in this situation. “do you need water?”

“i need y/n.” minji murmurs, rubbing her face in her hands and making her face even more red. “i miss her…”

“it’s been four days minji…”

“i want to be with her all the time… always.” minji confesses, her voice trembling with a vulnerability that takes everyone by surprise. her hand reaches for another shot glass, but danielle quickly intervenes, her concern clear. yet, minji manages to avoid her and downs the drink anyway, the alcohol burning its way down as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“i–i…” minji stammers, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to hold back a flood of emotions. her fingers fumble for her phone, and when she finally grasps it, a soft smile spreads across her face. she turns the screen to show her teammates a candid picture of you nestled against her, your peaceful expression illuminated by the dim light from your lamp. you had completely passed out against her that day after studying for one of your more important tests, that was also the moment minji realized she loved you. “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” she murmurs, flipping the screen back to herself as if savoring the sight. “...y/n.”

danielle can’t help but giggle softly, gently helping minji to her feet. “she’s very sweet, but i think it’s time we get this sweet girl’s girlfriend back to her hotel room. you’ve had enough, minji.”

minji shakes her head, her pout deepening as her eyes glisten with unshed tears. the rest of the team watches in stunned silence, taken aback by the raw, unguarded side of minji they’ve never seen before. they knew she adored you—her eyes always sparkled when she mentioned you, and her demeanor softened in your presence—but this...this was something deeper, something that laid her heart bare for all to see.

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” minji slurs, her words heavy with emotion as she sways slightly on her feet.

“well!” danielle tilts her head, laughing softly at minji's endearing confession. hanni, meanwhile, can’t resist giggling as she records the entire scene, already planning to send it to you later. danielle carefully helps minji to her feet, steadying her as she turns to the team. “i’m going to get her to bed—someone’s turned into a sappy lovebird.”

“no, please keep her here,” ryujin pleads, clearly relishing in her captain’s rare moment of vulnerability. “this is gold.”

but danielle, the only one with a working moral compass, shakes her head, her gaze shifting to minji, whose blinks are becoming slower, her hair a tousled mess, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. minji clings to danielle, her voice barely above a whisper as she mumbles, “i miss her… i wanna see my y/n… i love my y/n, i love her…”

danielle sighs, gently guiding minji toward the door. “come on, let’s get you to bed. you’ll see her soon enough.” minji nods, though she continues to mumble your name like a mantra, earning giggles from her teammates even after she’s dragged out by danielle.

–

minji feels like she’s been hit by a bus when she wakes up. her head is pounding, her hair is tangled and a chunk is in her mouth, and her body is twisted in an awkward position that leaves her neck sore. 

she groans, blinking a few times as she rubs her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. blindly, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table, and when her fingers finally graze the cold device, she squints at the screen—nine in the morning. the bus back leaves at ten.

it strikes her with the sharpness of an unexpected breeze. she gasps at the sight of the numbers, shooting up from the bed in a panic. in her rush, she nearly trips over her shoes, cursing under her breath as she fumbles to get herself ready.

her phone ends up on the sink counter as she splashes water over her face, trying to clear the fog in her mind. as the cold water shocks her system awake, another revelation dawns on her—she hasn’t responded to you yet. panic seizes her chest as she reaches for her phone, guilt and worry mixing with the lingering headache.

your texts are still unanswered, and there’s also a text from danielle asking if minji is alright, but you’re her first priority.

minji clicks on your contact, then presses ‘facetime’. water drips down her face and onto her shirt a bit before you pick up. 

“hey babe–”

“sorry i didn’t get to respond.” minji apologizes. you can only see the top half of her face looking down on you before she sets up the phone clumsily. you giggle and catch minji smiling at the sound of it. “the team and i we were…” minji can’t exactly remember much from the night before, she can only recall around seven bottles of soju on the ground, plus those two bottles of wine haewon brought. “... up late.”

“right.” you mumble, trying to contain a smile. “i missed you.”

minji almost misses her toothbrush while putting toothpaste on it. she clenches her jaw and looks at you in the camera, trying to conceal just how flustered you make her.

“me too.”

“how much?”

“a lot.” minji says, then starts brushing. it’s almost inaudible, but you manage to make out the small, “more than you missed me.” she mumbles as she brushes her back teeth.

“you’re so cute.” you murmur, then take a picture her in the moment.

minji groans when she sees the notification that you captured her while she’s a mess, minji is not a morning person. she puts her hand up to cover the camera as she continues brushing, but moves it away when she hears you giggling, wanting to see your face scrunch up cutely and your teeth show slightly when you laugh like that.

your girlfriend rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless.

–

minji has always been the reserved, playful type. you've seen glimpses of her more intimate side, but she's still shy about fully expressing her emotions. just like you, she's new to romance, and sometimes it shows in the way she kisses you just because, holds your hand with a gentle smile, or whispers compliments that warm your heart. 

but underneath that playful exterior, there's a lot she keeps hidden. minji’s good at concealing her deeper feelings, partly because she's shy, and partly because she’s still in disbelief that she managed to win your heart.

truthfully, minji is a mess. she’s head over heels when you kiss her cheek before you two part ways on campus. she’s even worse when you light up immediately at the sight of her outside your lecture room, and really anything you do makes her go batshit insane. but minji’s not going to show that, she doesn’t show any of it, so you’ve only seen her ‘cool, calm, and collected’ side–you think it’s cute, but what’s even cuter is the new side of her you’ve just been exposed to.

another truth is that you woke up to a good morning text from hanni before minji had even stirred. the message instantly made you feel all warm and giggly inside. there was a cheerful "good morning sunshine!" followed by a video and a teasing ":P you’ll love this girly." you clicked on the notification, squinting at the screen as you opened the video hanni sent.

the thumbnail showed minji, her cheeks flushed as she leaned against the couch. when you pressed play, hanni’s laughter echoed from behind the camera as she shakily recorded your girlfriend.

you watched as minji, looking like an adorable, sad puppy, leaned against danielle and started confessing how much she missed you. the sight made your heart swell, a huge smile spreading across your face. minji, with her flushed cheeks and vulnerable expression, showed off her lockscreen to the team, getting even sappier as she proudly displayed your photo. 

 “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” you hear her murmur, she turns the screen back to look at it lovingly. “...y/n.”

you couldn’t help but blush and kick your feet in bed, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. seeing how tipsy she was—four empty shot glasses scattered around her—explained why she was rambling about you, talking about how much she missed you. the whole thing made you giggle, your heart fluttering with affection for your sweet, slightly drunk minji.

what catches you off guard and nearly has you falling off your bed is when you catch minji saying:

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” she slurs it out drunkenly, but it’s heartwarming. she says i like a lead in a romance film, and it sounds genuine. then she says it over and over, and even if she’s drunk, drunk words are sober thoughts – that’s what you believe.

minji just said the L word and you weren’t there to witness it in real time. it’s been three months and minji said it first. if you could magically teleport to her in that moment you’d do it in a heartbeat.

–

your girlfriend arrives at your apartment in the afternoon. she knocks at your door and you open it with an eager smile, immediately pulling her in by the wrist and closing the door behind her.

minji giggles before you pull her in for a kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling away to smile.

“missed you silly.”

“missed you more.”

“i bet.” you mumble before pecking her again, then smiling cheekily against her lips. “hey, i wanted to ask about something – also show you something too.”

your arms are still around her neck, and her hands rest above your waist as she looks at you through her adorable black frames. “okay?” she says, tilting her head.

you grab her by the wrist and lead her over to your couch, both of you flop down on it and you lean against her shoulder. she puts her arm around you as you grab your phone, then kisses your head softly while you pull something up.

“hanni sent me something interesting.” you shrug, fighting the smile that’s trying to form on your face. “i wanted to show you.”

“hm, okay.”

you pull up your messages and minji feels herself stiffening looking at the thumbnail of the video hanni had sent. you press play and she realizes it’s a video from the night before, so she stops you, grabbing your phone and turning it off.

“hey!” you groan, reaching over to grab your phone back. “don’t just–”

“whatever she sent, that’s not–”

“just watch the video!” you poke her side and she loosens her grip, which gives you a moment to snatch your phone back. “just–”

minji’s cheeks are crimson, she’s flustered beyond measure. she sighs, crossing her arms now and turning away from you. “that’s not– look, i was drunk out of my mind…”

“okay well i don’t care, i want you to watch it so i can ask you something.”

“y/n, please baby.”

“don’t baby me.” you say with fake annoyance, pressing play again. “watch,” you order, then mumble a small, “you’re really cute.”

minji shifts uncomfortably as she watches the video, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. she cringes at the sight of herself with flushed cheeks, collapsing onto danielle, and the video captures her in a state of drunken vulnerability–it’s mortifying to minji, but you’re enjoying every second of it.

as the footage plays, minji’s cringing even more. she sees herself leaning into danielle, eyes glassy, as she gushes about how much she misses you. her gaze flits to her lockscreen being proudly displayed, her face a deep shade of red. she bites her lip, feeling every bit of her embarrassment as the video continues.

"i– i just... missed you—" she tries to explain before you cut her off.

“shh, shh. we’re not at the best part yet.” 

hanni pham i’ll kill you. minji thinks to herself, forcing herself to watch the rest of the video. 

minji's face flushes even more at the sound of her own voice confessing her feelings. hanni’s giggles in the background only make the situation worse. minji hears herself repeatedly saying "i love y/n" with a tone of longing, the video ending with hanni's laughter echoing.

“so,” you pull away from her, looking at your thrown off girlfriend in front of you with raised brows. “what did you think.”

“i–” minji pinches the bridge of her nose, then looks at you looking at her with an expectant expression and a teasing smile. “--look.”

“you said the L word.”

she furrows her brows. “what?”

“you said it, the L word.”

“oh my god y/n.” minji can’t help but laugh in the moment, purely from disbelief. she sighs, giving you a crooked smile. “is this about me saying… that?”

“saying what?” you push her buttons successfully, watching her bite the inside of her cheek.

“you know what.”

“say it.”

“what?”

“say it to my face.” you purse your lips, then bite the inside of your bottom lip. 

minji glances away, her face a mixture of vivid red and palpable anxiety. the embarrassment still colors her cheeks, but now there’s an additional hue of nervousness. it’s not that she’s new to romantic things like this with you—far from it. it’s just that her feelings for you are so profound, so overwhelming, that they’ve left her floundering, struggling to match the intensity of her emotions with her actions. sometimes it feels like her heart and brain work independently, or maybe it’s just her heart doing most of the work, it’s a mess, a beating wreck always.

you’ve managed to make her feel like a mess, an idiot, and utterly smitten, all by existing.

she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to look you squarely in the eye. her cheeks remain flushed, and she fidgets with her fingers, betraying her inner turmoil.

“i love you.”

“who?”

“you, y/n.” minji groans, leaning towards you and sliding her hand above your waist again. she presses your skin lightly with her fingertips, before repeating herself, “i love you y/n.” her voice is low and she looks at you through her eyelashes, now you’re all nervous.

you can’t speak or breathe in the moment, so you opt for leaning in and kissing her, but she pushes you away after one peck, looking at you with raised brows.

“you’re not going to say it back?” minji smirks, her gaze unwavering as she watches you avert your eyes. her expression turns playful yet determined as she gently hooks her finger under your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze once more. her thumb rests lightly on your lower jaw, her fingers pressing gently against your cheeks. “what was all that interrogation for if you’re—”

“i love you.” you confess, breath hitching when she looks at you like that. “i love you minji.”

minji smiles, clearly satisfied. “wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“i hate you.”

“but you love me.”

“yeah, but i hate you.”

“uh huh.” minji chuckles, fingers still holding your face and using that to pull you closer and kiss you.

despite the embarrassment she’s feeling, minji somehow remains more composed than you. she pushes her glasses up to sit on the crown of her head before her lips brush against yours with a tender softness, and she hums as she kisses you again. when she pulls away just enough to speak, her breath mingles with yours as she murmurs against your lips,

“i L word you a lot y/n.” she pecks you again, then says one more time before taking your breath away, “i love you so much you loser.”

[loveyislost]

gojo x fem reader tags: strap on/pegging, bratty gojo, bodily fluids, language, 18+ minors dni, not proofread, first time posting a full length smut fic so this is possibly shit, might delete if I decide I hate it, but here it is for now

you can’t help but smirk, thumbs tracing along the soft dimples at the small of gojo’s back, adding pressure until he sinks further into a pretty arch, your boyfriends slutty little waist only further accentuated.

his whines echo throughout your room, so different from the usual moans that leave his lips when he’s the one railing you into the plush mattress.

“why’re you whimperin’ at me like that, babe? you’re the one who asked for this.” you slam your hips forward sharply, his ass rippling, lewd sound of flesh slapping reaching your ears, “or did you forget that already?”

gojo just babbles into his silk pillowcase, wet with a mix of his tears and drool, both leaking steadily down his face, “don’t- don’t stop.”

a laugh leaves your throat, head tipping back, “yeah? you like this? like being my little slut?”

your hand lifts above him, coming down sharply on his ass, pink handprint quickly appearing on the smooth, pale skin.

“such a good fucking boy, taking my strap like that for me.”

ignoring his pleas for more, you slip your hands to his cheeks, taking a thick handful of each, spreading them apart to watch the sparkly, baby blue strap, the one gojo insisted must match his eyes, going in and out of his puffy hole.

the rim is swollen, squeezing tight around the smooth silicone, pink and sloppy. it holds onto the dildo every time you pull out, trying to draw you back inside his needy ass.

“fuckkk, look at that.” you deliver a second, stinging spank to his flushing butt, “gonna have to do this more often”

gojo groans, throwing his hips back, meeting your thrusts, “roll- roll your hips up- fuck-“

your brows furrow, hands taking hold of his waist again, as you obey his request. on the next thrust, you angle your movements upwards, and the effect is immediately.

his arms collapse, cheek now fully smushed against the pillow, lips pouted out almost comically from the position. blue eyes roll back, a shuddering gasp leaving him from somewhere deep in his body, legs spasming under him.

your pussy is practically gushing onto the sheets below you, and you don’t even care that you aren’t getting any stimulation, not with such a pretty sight spread out below you.

you copy your last moment, harder this time, and his cock jumps between his legs, leaking steadily onto the sheets that are most definitely going to require a wash when you’re done.

when you speak, your voice takes on a teasing tone, head tilting as you peer down at him, eyes half lidded, “like this babe? is this what you wanted?”

he doesn’t answer with words this time, just emitting a strangled whine, hips halfheartedly rolling back against you, expression utterly fucked out.

you have half a mind to stop, to play dumb, to refuse to do anything until he uses his words, the way he’s tortured you countless times.

but how could you? it would be more of a punishment for you, after all, to miss out on those pretty sounds and expressions for even a second.

so you don’t, you just rub his hips gently, thrusts smoother now as you get used to the movement, cooing down softly at him, “you close bubs, gonna cum on my strap?”

he nods, head lolling limply with each move of his head, “uh huhhh…”

cute, your lips lift in a soft smile, somehow finding him endearing even with a cock up his pretty ass.

fingers slide down his body, down between his legs, gently wrapping around his blushing, pink cock, stroking in time with your thrusts, “c’mon, baby. what do you need?”

he finally manages to speak up, voice strained, sobbing out, “faster, faster please.”

you oblige, rocking your hips up quickly, and he keens, toes curling, tongue sliding out, a sound he didn’t even know he could make leaving his lips.

within seconds his cock is twitching in your hand, balls drawing up close to his body, ass tightening around you.

and he cums.

white spurts of his seed shoot out, soaking the sheets with strand after strand of his load, back arching, his legs now giving out too.

you don’t stop, fucking him through his orgasm, slowly stopping your thrusts as he comes down from his high.

when his breathing finally evens out, eyes fluttering open again, you gently slip your strap out of him, removing it from your hips so you can collapse beside him, pulling him into your arms.

“you okay, ‘toru? wasn’t too rough on you?”

he mumbles something out, nuzzling his face into your chest.

“what’s that?”

gojo sighs, melting further into you, “coulda gone harder. thought you said you were gonna fuck me dumb.”

your eyes widen, an incredulous laugh coming from you, “satoru, i thought you passed out for a second, it’s way too late to play it cool.”

he just shrugs, letting out a sigh, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“god, you’re a fucking brat…”

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so he's his own warning. Don't read if he's not someone you enjoy reading fics about. Depictions of injury and threat of violence. Enemies to Lovers. Soulmate! AU

This chapter contains sexual themes MDNI

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 5,991

A/N: The chapter is finally here and a lot longer than I originally thought it would be. Let's thank my laptop for still hanging in there! I went waaaaaay out of my comfort zone with this one by writing smut that I didn't end up chickening out and deleting (i'll be honest it got close a few times). We're advancing more with the relationship but this is Doffy we're talking about so there's still more to come. I hope you all enjoy 🤭 🫣 Dividers made by the amazing @physics-of-one-piece

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen(here) | Chapter Eighteen(coming soon)

“Darling?” You slowly turned your head towards the doorway with a small arch in your eyebrow.

“That the one you want to go with?” You asked casually and Doflamingo gave a thoughtful hum before immediately making a negative sound; more to himself than to you. As you’d been getting ready, Doflamingo’s voice would drift in from the other room, sounding out various pet-names to use on you. He’d yet to land on one he liked the sound of to use for the night. “Don't you think you’re putting too much thought into this?” 

“You said it’s only for tonight.” Doflamingo reminded you with a laugh. “Need to make sure it’s something I’ll get the most enjoyment out of calling you.”

“Whatever you say.” You hummed. “I’ll answer to anything you know.”

“My little seagull?” You laughed at that one and Doflamingo grinned at the sound. “Fits your former marine standing don’t you think?”

“Former being the word, Doffy.” You reminded lightly, as you moved to lean against the doorframe, lightly folding your arms across your chest. “Seagulls just give the image of a squawking annoyance. Is that how you see me?”

Doflamingo had been sitting relaxed on the plush sofa in the shared bedroom the entire time, sipping at a drink while he waited for you to finish getting ready. At the sign of movement he looked to the door and his grin spread immediately. His hidden gaze roaming over you appreciatively. Absently he made a mental note to reward the servants and tailors that had a hand in assisting you with this clothing choice. Everything hugged and your body and showed your figure perfectly. Dressed in the finest material to set you apart as a guest of high standing and not a mere underling, it was clear to Doflamingo that when the two of you made your appearance, everyone was going to take notice. “Oh I definitely see you as something far from that.” He chuckled while you smirked. “Dressed like that, ‘seagull’ definitely won’t work though.”

“Yeah…that’s the only reason.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Come on then. What’s your next option?”

Doflamingo regarded you silently, his expression thoughtful. Taking another sip of his drink, he gestured his finger in a slow circling motion to request you twirl for him. Dramatically you sighed and pushed yourself away from the comfortable position you’d had against the doorway. Stepping further into the room you did as he requested. With unhurried movements you turned in a full circle to show off your appearance to Doflamingo in every angle. Finally facing him again you put out your hands in a ‘ta-da’ gesture. “Happy?”

You dropped your hands and moved to the drinks table to pour yourself a drink. Now that you moved into the light Doflamingo noticed how some of the panels of fabric to your outfit was made of a sheerer material to teasingly reveal some of your skin underneath. Finishing his own drink, Doflamingo stood and moved so he was behind you, reaching forward to set his glass on the table. The small action caused him to momentarily press against you and his fingers to skim against your arm when he straightened. As you took a sip you turned to face him. “I was going to suggest ‘angel’ but the more I see how sinful you look I’m not sure that suits either.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” You laughed again with a shake of your head. This was honestly not the reaction you’d anticipated from him.

“I’m being serious.” Doflamingo corrected, looking over you again. “Deadly serious. If they aren’t  careful, there’s going to be a lot of bodies by the end of the night.”

“From what? Just looking at me?” You asked incredulously, gently moving around him to relax until it was time to leave. However you didn’t get far because Doflamingo’s hands caught you effortlessly and spun you around to face him again. One hand gripped your hip while the other pinched your chin, making you look at him as he leant in. 

“You think those degenerates will be content with just looking?” His breath fanned against your skin as you felt his low voice rumble against his chest. You fought to ignore the small shiver flitting up your spine at his words and how his lips were so close but still not closing the final minuscule gap between you both. “Even letting them look at you seems punishable.”

“You can’t blind or kill everyone.” You reminded him softly, unable to hide your smile when his grin stretched as he was no doubt imagining doing just that to the unknown guests-or victims in his mind- you’d soon be crossing paths with. “Besides I’ll be arriving with you. You said so yourself, they won’t try anything. Guess you’ll just have to be brave and just let them look won’t you?”

“I don’t have to let them do anything.” Doflamingo’s grip tightened, drawing you closer. As always you didn’t even flinch; not able to feel any physical discomfort or pain from the strength of his hold. Instead you simply adjusted your stance; after draining your own drink, you set it aside and settled your hands on his chest and stared up at him with careful reproach. 

“Yes, yes, you’re the mighty King Doffy.” You teased, absently smoothing the pale pink fabric of his mostly unbuttoned shirt as you continued. “If you keep this up people are going to notice there’s something more going on than me simply being your date for the night and they’re going to pry into your business if they get too suspicious.” 

When your hands slowly moved up and rested on his shoulders, Doflamingo’s hand slid from your chin to curl behind the back of your neck. The action alone told you he was calming slightly but he still wasn’t entirely convinced. You had to remind yourself that this event was something he didn’t enjoy at the best of times and he’d been showing a lot of restraint in recent weeks. He hadn’t killed the servant because of you and had resisted lashing out at the doctors when you’d gotten ill as much as he clearly wanted to act on those violent impulses and usual habits. While you’d managed to deter him for the most part you knew a setting like this would only bring out his want to let out his frustrations and desire for brutality. If he saw the others attending to be beneath him then his patience was going to be at an all-time low. 

“You’re right. They’ll keep their hands to themselves if they know what’s good for them.” Doflamingo nodded with a more sinister gracing his features as you pouted slightly.

“What if someone is nice and wants to dance with me?” You asked with perfect innocence in your tone that was only betrayed by the unrestrained playfulness gleaming in your eyes. “You’d deny them that little request?” 

“If they were really brave enough to ask you in front of me I suppose I’d respect them enough to let them. Still, I’ll just have to memorise those that push their luck though and deal with them when the time’s right.”

“At least when you do, make sure blood doesn’t get on my clothes.” You requested, asking him to do anything else would have been a waste of words.

The island was buzzing with excitement with a twinge of nervousness. For the citizens, under the rule of their Lord they were no stranger to the darker sources of his power and knew of the less than moral and good company he kept. Yes he was corrupt in his own way and had more wealth than sense but he wasn’t the peak of evil. On nights like these when he’d throw his lavish and ostentatious parties, the commonfolk eagerly awaited from behind their curtains to see the guests arrive and walk through the emptied streets the the manor. At the same time the older and more aware people watched carefully, feeling small amounts of fear when they spotted the guests that had reputations, bounties on their head, and a literal army following behind them. 

Since they were the guests of their Lord, should they decide to level a random house, steal someone’s livelihood, or attack someone of the town nothing would be done to protect them and that was the reality they had to live with, the harshness made even more evident when the potential threat to the community was escorted through the streets by those dressed in Marine uniforms and smirking just as arrogantly and cruelly as the person they were protecting for the night. As more groups passed by the window, the tension grew. Then the people felt a shudder tremble through their homes and bodies. Instinct gnawed at them to close the curtain and look away, to stand protectively in front of the rooms their children slept soundly in but they couldn’t Despite what deep instinct told them to do it, they couldn’t look away from sheer overwhelming curiosity. Because how could the source of such pure fear come from the smallest group to arrive?

Where Lords, Pirate Captains, Nobles, and the insanely rich showed it through their overwhelming numbers, the shadowed group steadily approaching filled barely a fraction of that number. Then under the streetlights they saw the two figures leading them; Warlord Doflamingo who many up until this night had been sorely glad to only see in the papers, grinning broadly and in the flesh walk by outside their homes and onward to the Lord’s estate. All breaths held were only released when they were out of view but still their curiosity remained as they relived the thought of the terrifying Warlord and the person by his side; by all accounts a seemingly normal-albeit stunning- person but what made them pause in their estimation was if someone like you could walk by so at ease with a man like that by your side it led to the next question; what kind of monster were you truly?

The entire estate was an overwhelming feast for the eyes, not in a way that made you look around with wonder and awe. It was overkill and an eyesore. Were Dressrosa’s Palace had charm and taste in its decor, even with Doflamingo and his family living there it was never overboard. It was classy. This? This was an uncoordinated headache. If you had to take a guess, whoever owned the place decided that he wanted gold and diamonds to be his main aesthetic and ‘matched’ it with whatever his decorator told him was the most expensive pieces of furniture, art, and other overpriced items to fill the space. Your suspicions only grew when you and Doflamingo stepped into the entrance hall to be met with the very large statue of the man you’d assumed was your host made entirely out of the brightest gold and not-so subtly inlayed with various gems that caught and reflected the lights around it. 

You blinked and trained your expression into one as polite as you could and began to think of what simple half-compliment you could give offer should your host point it out. In order to protect your eyes in every sense of the word, you turned your head slightly and glanced at Doflamingo only to immediately regret it. Humour began to bubble in your chest as you could tell he was disgusted by the centrepiece to the estate. Even with his grin broadly in place and his dark tinted glasses firmly in place you could feel how personally offended Doflamingo felt about it and the overall decor of the building. “So…think you’ll ask him who the sculptor is?” You forced out in a soft whisper while trying to stop the laughter from building any further in your chest. The smile twitched at your lips when Doflamingo forced his head away from the golden monstrosity in front of him. “It’d really heighten the class of the Palace, don’t you think?”

“If I learn the name of the person responsible for this I can’t be held accountable.” Doflamingo muttered  low enough for only you to hear, his restrained grin switching into a genuine one when you quickly pressed your lips together in the hopes of hiding your amusement.

“Darling look at that statue!” You heard a whisper from behind you. The sincere gasp of admiration made you take a slow breath to try and centre yourself, braced and trying to appear composed. “We should get one of us commissioned.”

“Oh we simply must. Look ahead, that’s the Doflamingo!” The woman’s husband excitedly murmured and you bit the inside of your cheek when you spotted the vein in your date’s forehead twitch. “If he’s admiring it, you know it’s a must buy. Quick, let’s find the host-” Hearing the couple scurry off and knowing Doflamingo was somehow to blame for the artist getting another job was your breaking point.

Quickly you ducked your head and pressed it against Doflamingo’s arm that you had a loose hold on, your laughter muffled as best you could while sharply Doflamingo turned and led you away to avoid anyone else falsely connecting his sense of taste with the statue he was now imagining destroying in every way possible. “I need a fucking drink.”

“Aren't you a little bit flattered that they want to emulate you and your stellar eye for art?” Before Doflamingo could answer your teasing question you were both distracted by the sound of a gun firing from the gardens you’d both passed to get to the front door. 

“Looks like someone couldn’t wait to get the festivities underway…” you heard someone chuckle to their entourage. Silently you took the glass of wine offered to you by one of the servants and returned you attention back to Doflamingo who was already draining his glass in one swift motion and quickly reaching for another. 

“You weren’t lying about sloppy assassination attempts.” You sighed before taking a small sip of your drink, pausing when the rich taste took you by surprise. It was sweet and indulgent and actually pleasant. Given your host’s thoughts on visual decoration you had anticipated it to be overwhelming and repulsive. 

“Nah, that was just someone settling a grudge. The assassinations will be attempted after more drink has been had and guards are down.” Doflamingo chuckled, taking his time with this glass of wine as he slowly began to take in his surroundings, silently sizing up those mingling around him. Already he’d counted many heads trying to discreetly glance his way only to avoid directly looking at his face fully out of fear of being caught. That’s when the stares lingered on your face and form instead. Just enough for Doflamingo to notice you’d captured their attention but not too long to be seen as ogling. They at least were practiced enough with these gatherings to appear neutral and casual. 

“Doflamingo!” You and Doflamingo turned to see the smaller and equally unimpressive version of the statue approach with hands out in a welcoming gesture. Adorned in jewels and garish fabrics, the Lord smiled broadly at the man in front of him, bowing in reverence. “It was truly an honour to see your name on my final guest-list, I had to pinch myself repeatedly to ensure I wasn’t dreaming. I can die a happy man now.”

“Careful, wrong ears might take you up on that offer.” Doflamingo chuckled while you smirked to see the fear flash in your host’s eyes before he quickly composed himself enough to force out a small laugh of his own. “So with that little commotion in the garden, are we to expect much of the same tonight?”

“Oh yes.” Your eyes steeled slightly when the Lord in front of you lost his nervousness and the sickening enjoyment at the promise of more bloodshed was made clear. “Many of the guests here will find themselves with ample opportunities for vengeance, advancement of power and wealth, and temptation to betray their allies throughout the night when they see the rest of those in attendance.”

“Excellent, I can wait to see how the night plays out then. Doflamingo chuckled again, his hand slowly moving to settle on the small of your back when he noticed the subtle shift in your demeanour. “How do you feel about that, angel?”

You glanced at Doflamingo at the petname he’d suggested back on the ship and your lips twitched briefly, knowing it still wasn’t the one Doflamingo felt suited you best. At Doflamingo’s question, it wasn’t just the Lord that turned his attention to you but others who were clearly wishing earshot while trying to appear like they weren’t eavesdropping glanced your way too. Thoughtfully you pursed your lips and offered the Lord a polite smile. “So everyone can find a way to benefit from another guest’s death tonight?” You asked, keeping your tone innocently curious. When the Lord smirked and nodded you let out a small hum of interest. “You’re a brave man…”

“Oh? How so dear?” The Lord asked with a tightened smile, unnerved by your simple observation.

“Well if I planned a party like this with that goal in mind I’d begin to wonder who among my guests would benefit the most from my death.” You explained with a sweet smile. “But I’m sure you’ve planned for that too.” Doflamingo grinned at your remark and the Lord’s mouth opened and closed as his mind only now began to consider he could be a target too.

“Well obviously, I’m among friends and allies, and my own bodyguards.” He tried to dismiss your idea with a short laugh.

“But you said so yourself, the opportunity to betray allies is all part of tonight.” You pointed out, still maintaining the perfect expression of concern and curiosity. “Right, Doffy?”

“Right, such faith in your own power to not be a target. Brave indeed.” Doflamingo grinned while leading you to the next room, not needing to stay in the presence of his host any longer if he truly did want to enjoy himself tonight. “We’ll drink to your health.”

“Come on you’ve got your Marine training. Surveillance was one of your specialties, so tell me what you’re seeing.” Doflamingo urged low in your ear as you both found yourselves standing on one of the balconies overlooking one of the crowded halls were the guests plotted, drank, talked, and danced. So far for much of the party the two of you had kept to yourselves, finding your own entertainment in listening to conversations not meant for either of you, judging the other guests for their obvious actions, and sometimes simply because both of you were baffled at their choice in clothing for the night. Similar to your host, many in attendance with a sickening amount of wealth were incapable of taste. 

You stood in front of Doflamingo, his body turned to press against yourself in a subtle closeness without fully engulfing you. Silently you scanned the crowd below you. You absently ran your fingers against the rim of your glass as you watched and Doflamingo grinned when he knew you spotted something by the way your head tilted just a fraction and your fingers stilled. Your eyes darted to him and you smirked before nodding down in the direction for him to look. “That’s not the date he arrived with.” You stated and Doflamingo looked down at the couple. He vaguely remembered the guest but when he looked at the date clinging to his arm tightly and giggling at whatever he said, he couldn’t honestly say he could see a difference. “So either his original date is an assassin in disguise and this one is a decoy or the woman currently on his arm is the assassin and will kill him later on when they’re alone.”

“Bet his date is off killing someone.” Doflamingo wagered and you pursed your lips before shaking your head.

“I bet he’s the target.” You smirked. “If he’d sent an assassin he’d be trying to look for her, or the person he wanted dead. Mostly it’d be unintentional, nervousness, but he’d still be waiting to see if he succeeded or not.” Doflamingo watched the man again, starting to see what you did and he laughed. Ultimately time would tell which of you was correct. 

“What else?” He asked, thoroughly entertained by the things you were able to notice and found this to be one of the better parties he’d attended because of it. 

“They’re having an affair.” You said, your gaze zeroing on a new target. For this one he had to adjust his stance, leaning forward and settling his hand on the railing while the other settled on your hip. He wordlessly observed. A trio. The crimeboss was talking to another criminal power. As expected the wife looked bored but that was it. “The bodyguard and his boss’ wife. A bit cliche but seems to be the case here.”

“They haven’t so much as looked at each other.” Doflamingo smirked, closer now his breath fanned against your skin as his lips barely grazed the shell of your ear. 

“Exactly but look at the way he’s standing. The wife is his priority.” You explained softly, pointing out the chain of events now that Doflamingo was watching and able to see for himself the obviousness of it. “Anytime the husband touches his wife, the bodyguard tenses. Jealous… then when the husband isn’t looking she reassures her lover with something small, a glance or a brief touch that looks accidental.”

“Yeah, I see it now.” Doflamingo smirked with a building chuckle, glancing down at you when you turned your head towards him. This close now it was so close to let his lips brush against yours and from the way your eyes flickered briefly at them, he knew you wanted it just as much as he did but he let the moment hang for just a moment. Before either of you got the chance to act the sound of Doflamingo’s personal den-den mushi began to ring from inside his feather coat. You let out a small breath and leant back, turning your head to glance over the balcony again while Doflamingo  clicked his tongue and grabbed the snail, the call coming from Dressrosa. He wasn’t going to answer it with so many people around. He uttered a quick ‘be right back’ and you nodded understanding. 

Immediately you felt the overwhelming but steady presence of Doflamingo disappear and you sighed softly, going back to observing the crowd to pass the time while you waited for him to return. The minutes passed by somewhat peacefully then you spotted something new developing that made your eyes narrow. Pushing yourself away from the railing you headed down into the room and strode straight for what had caught your attention. Every step you took was purposeful and you weren’t thinking about anything else. Swiftly you made it just in time and intersected yourself between Baby 5 and the repulsive figure that had been not-so charmingly and lecherously trying to get close to her. At first you ignored the man and smiled at Baby 5, leaning in so only she would hear your words to her. “Gladius needs you.”

“Wh-what?” Baby 5 asked the slight dusting of blush against her cheeks dissipating at your arrival, snapping out of her enamoured state when she realised you were the one talking to her. Just before you arrived she’d been so close to accepting the man’s marriage proposal. “Okay, I’ll find him now!”

“H-hey wait a minute!” The man began to call after her but it was too late and he turned his attention to you. At first he was angered but when he got a proper look at you he instead grinned. “Well aren't you an upgrade? What’s the matter, sweetheart were you jealous your friend was getting more attention?”

“Something like that.” You told him with a restrained smile. “Think the drink was getting to my head. I should go and get some fresh air, enjoy your evening.” With nothing more to say to the man you walked away and left to one of the side gardens, deciding it was a good idea to get out from the constant crowd and noise. You took a breath and leaned against one of the stone pillars only to frown when you heard someone approach. Glancing over your shoulder you saw the man had followed you with a smirk on his lips. “Yes?”

“Aw come on don’t be like that. We weren’t finished back there.” His attempt at speaking seductively made you question just how naive Baby 5 was to fall for this. “I was looking at a sure thing with your friend and now I’m all alone. Don’t be cruel, make it up to me.”

“Cruel?” You repeated in amusement.

“Yeah, getting my attention, looking like that and not even letting me have a taste of your sweet company.” He explained, stepping closer. You remained against the pillar and caught the man’s wrist as his hand settled on your thigh; stopping his touch from progressing further. “See? Playing hard to get is cruel.”

“No, I’m being kind.” You explained gently, leaning in just a little. “Do you want to know what I’d do if I was cruel?”

“Tell me then sweetheart. Make it worth my while though, yeah?”

“If I was cruel I’d let you get closer. I’d let your hand go where it wanted, let your lips taste mine. I’d 'make it worth your while’ as you said it.”

“Damn, I’m still not seeing how that’s cruel.” The man chuckled about to lean in and kiss you when your thumb and finger pinched his chin to stop him. 

“Maybe not…” you hummed, a smirk growing on your lips. “The cruelty would be in what comes after. When you have to deal with him.” Your eyes moved passed the man and locked on Doflamingo’s as he loomed dangerously in the shadows. The man barely had time to glance over his shoulder before he felt the flare of pain against his wrist and he screamed, lifting his arm into the air to see his hand was gone, blood spraying everywhere. In shock, the man pressed his rapidly bleeding stump against his body and stared down at his hand now lying on the cold ground. You were forgotten as he staggered to crouch down and retrieve the missing appendage only to sway weakly and dizzy. With his hand in reach he blinked to see it flit away, overcome with confusion and pain he blinked up to see his hand swaying tauntingly above his head as Doflamingo stood over him but the Warlord was ignoring him, only watching you let out a small sigh, wiping the spray of blood away from your cheek and look down at your now spoiled clothes in exasperation. Doflamingo’s heavy frown deepened and he glared down at the man muttering about his hand while trying to stay conscious. With no regard for him, Doflamingo flicked his wrist and let the severed hand sail away into the darkness. “If you can find your hand, you can keep it.”

Not bothering to wait and see if he managed to get to his feet or not, Doflamingo quickly took your arm and pulled you to his side. Moving his grip to settle on your side he pulled you inside the estate and through the still bustling halls. You walked steadily, keeping your expression unreadable as you let Doflamingo lead you wherever he was set on going. You noticed many that had been gathering liquid courage in order to finally approach Doflamingo immediately rethink their decisions when they spotted the both of you with your clothes marked with fresh blood; from the amount they knew it wasn’t a massacre but it was enough to be a warning to stay away.

Eventually you both entered your room for the night and your nose wrinkled to see the style didn’t improve here either. At the sound of the door shutting you glanced at Doflamingo as his hands cracked in barely restrained rage. “Before you say anything, I only acted to get Baby 5 out of trouble-“ 

The rest of your explanation was swiftly killed in your chest when Doflamingo stormed towards you, backing you against the wall. Fingers twisting in your hair and securing against the back of your neck while grabbing your thigh, his mouth crashed against yours harshly. Instantly the dizzying need to match the intensity and hunger of the kiss came over you. Still you managed to cling to some tiny shred of thought. With a reluctant groan you broke away from the kiss, eyes falling shut and a small shiver running through you when Doflamingo growled and pressed his lips against your jaw. “I was already reaching my limit. Bad enough having to see those worms looking at you, seeing their desires in their eyes when they thought I wasn’t looking. I told you they wouldn’t be satisfied with just looking, didn’t I?” His hand on your thigh tightened and his knee moved between your legs, pressing his body further against you to cause a soft moan break from your parted lips. “Seeing that piece of scum try to touch you was the last straw.”

“Thought you didn’t get jealous…” You huffed out with a breathless laugh, unable to stop yourself from grinding your hips against his leg, chasing just a little bit of that delicious friction. You secured your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and let your lips teasingly brush against his before leading him into another hungry, all consuming kiss. 

“No, not jealous. I’m possessive and no one touches or tries to claim what’s so obviously, rightfully, only mine.” Doflamingo’s voice broke out in a deep, rumbling purr as he pulled your hands free and pinned them above your head with just one of his. Without warning Doflamingo bit your neck at the pulse point, drawing another moan from you as your back arched and body pressed further against his. Doflamingo broke away and saw your skin hadn’t yielded to his mouth, the only sign he’d been there was the outline of saliva from his lips. “You’re mine, mi alma.”

“So claim me, Doffy.” You urged, your voice just as heavy with need, unable to think any further beyond your want for pleasure. At your words that final frayed thread between you both, that tiny but insistent warning sign that appeared every time the two of you danced too close to the point of no return finally disintegrated and the two of you drawing each other headlong into lust and instinct with reason nowhere to be seen. 

Immediately Doflamingo pulled you away from the wall and backed you towards the bed, as he walked Doflamingo wasted no more time and bit your lower lip, swiping his tongue against it before drawing you into a dizzying kiss. Effortlessly he ripped the clothes from your body with one hand. His smug smile appeared when you let out an unimpressed but also unsurprised huff against his lips at his actions, pushing you backwards and finally getting to take in the sight of your naked, exquisite body as you pushed yourself up to rest on your elbows. 

Your pupils were blown wide with lust as Doflamingo stripped his clothes from his board frame. When his thick, hard cock sprang free your breath hitched and you shamelessly stared at it, your darkened gaze becoming hungry. You licked your lips and returned your gaze to Doflamingo, a grin of your own spreading in a mirror of his. Inching closer you grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards you, legs immediately locking around his waist, lifting your hips just enough to feel his twitching length press against your entrance. 

Both of you had no more need or want for patience and in perfect sync, you lowered yourself onto Doflamingo while he thrust in. Your body welcomed him with no resistance and your whole body, down to the very fibre of your being felt like it was alight with the rawest pleasure you’d ever felt. Your lips trailed from Doflamingo’s jaw to his ear, urging him to move faster, and deeper, your voice a siren song in luring him to act on your every whispered desire. Rapidly you were reaching your peak and still you needed more. 

As your climax washed over you, your heels dug firmer against the base of Doflamingo’s spine as his mouth bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his own high vastly approaching but still the two of you were unrelenting, still not finished. As the aftershocks of your first waves subsided your hands roamed over Doflamingo’s chest and down the rippling muscles of his back. “Doffy, more.” You urged in his ear in between swears and moans uttered like a prayer. “Don’t hold back.”

Doflamingo let out a long animalistic growl and without stopping his thrusts that you met with ease he pushed himself forward, pinning you between the mattress and his body. Hands roaming across your body he roughly grabbed your thigh as his other hand secured around your throat, his thrusts picking up in force and speed. At the change, your fucked out expression filled with bliss and Doflamingo now unshackled gave you what you wanted, what you both wanted. In all his years and all the lovers or playthings he took to his bed he had to restrain himself in some capacity. With his own gratification the priority with those nobodies, he still had to hold onto some semblance of self-control because they were worth nothing to him if they broke completely. His own strength was monstrous and while he was hardly ever gentle, he offered them some kindness that they didn’t realise. 

With you though, it was unnecessary. The power he was exerting at this moment would have snapped anyone else’s neck immediately and you reacted as though it was a simple caress. Your body was literally made for him, shaped perfectly to take him in a way no-one else could. As you both neared the edge of your climax, Doflamingo absently thought of the pet-name he’d called you. ‘Mi alma,’ it had been said without truly thinking about it, in the moment of his heated fury at someone thinking they were deserving of this pleasure you were drawing out from him but it was the only thing that sounded right. 

“Mi alma.” He groaned out again and your eyes focused onto his face, your hand wrapping around the wrist of the hand still against your throat. With a gentle tug, you pulled his hand away to press a quick kiss against his wrist before pulling Doflamingo forward, wanting as little space as possible between you at that moment. As your orgasms hit again, you called out Dofalmingo’s name while the Warlord’s free hand braced against the headboard being you. With the final snap of his hips you were too lost in the moment with stars clouding your vision and ears ringing to notice the sound of the headboard snapping and the legs of the bed finally giving out and splintering, crashing to the floor. 

Doflamingo laughed in your ear and his hips stilled at last, kissing your jaw and skimming your throat with his nose as your senses slowly returned. Blinking you craned your head back, noticing there was something different. You slowly connected the dots and you focused your clearing vision back on Doflamingo, offering him a lazy grin. “Weren’t my clothes enough?”

“I blame you.” Doflamingo chuckled lowly and unapologetically while you rolled your eyes. “But if you’re still so broken up about it, I think I can get you to forgive me.”

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[wintfleur]

Addressing the sweetestdesire situation !!

ꪆ୧ more screenshots are under the keep reading!

This morning i received an ask on anon regarding Brynn, also known as sweetestdesire. Informing me of her plagiarizing other people’s writings. (I completely agree what anon has expressed, it is completely wrong what she did)

With further research I clicked on all the links and saw that her posts (the copied ones) have already been deleted, so I can’t say nothing regarding those links for sure. But one of my friends on here has also received an ask just like mine, just with different links/fics.

I cross read them and you can notice immediately that Brynn had copied them almost word to word, down below are some screenshots proving it!

(BRYNNS THE ORIGINAL )

* TAKE A HIKE (TITLE FOR BOTH )

* CAUGHT IN THE ACT (COPIED) LAST FIRST DATE (ORIGINAL)

* A FRIEND IN NEED (COPIED) THE PROPOSITION (ORIGINAL)

* ANGRY INSIGHT (COPIED) SORE LOSER (ORIGINAL)

As you all can see, it’s clear that she had stolen from these writers, which is completely unacceptable and wrong. I’m not making this post to bully Brynn, I just want people to know the truth and understand what has happened, and the original writers deserve to be known as the actual writers of these stories.

That being said I have reached out to brynn outside of tumblr when I noticed that she had deactivated her account! I won’t share our conversations out of privacy for her. but I did bring this up to her, she knew what she was doing was wrong, and she apologizes. I asked her if she had anything she wanted to me to tell everyone, this is it.

“Please let everyone know that I do apologize for just deciding to pussy out and just run away from the problems rather than come clean about everything and give a much needed apology. I shouldn't have done that and I shouldn't have done everything else that I've done. I don't know if I'll come back, but as of right now, I don't see that happening because I don't feel as if I belong on there or wanted for that matter. I fucked up and I take full responsibility about everything and if I could take back everything, I would”

I want to say again that I completely agree with the anon, plagiarism is wrong! I apologize if this seems rushed (it is) but I believe that people deserve to know the truth, however hard it is!

Again, I want to make it clear that I am not making this post to bully, or be rude in anyway!

This is mostly all the information that I have on the matter, if anyone has any questions feel free to message me or send an ask!

tagging some of my moots to spread the word <3 @winterbarnesblog @wondrluv @wineauntie @fantillisgirl @isaadore @hhughes @lovesickhughes @sc0tters @letsgetrowdy43 @nylqnder @ebsmind @ruinix @prfctstrmrry @cuteandhughesy @hughesinthebox

[bogleech]

For the record, reblogging roadkills one and only deepfake of me was the only way to keep proof of it for staff before she deleted herself, and they've only acknowledged reports if I'm the subject of the reported material. If you try to report something you're not an explicit target of, they might send you the generic "here's how to block" reply (at least that's what I got?? You can try it anyway)

Also, no users in her callouts have done anything to cause or spread her behavior, new targets are random and it won't do anything to block them. If she finds you reblogged from someone who ever reblogged from any of her other targets, or even several further degrees of removal, she's still just as likely to materialize in your inbox, ask you to attack these other users for her, and then possibly send you gore or porn or detailed threats because she got no response from you. It doesn't matter if you respond, block, or silently ignore it. You might just be away from tumblr that day and she'll give you the whole weird treatment

It's better to keep what she sends you so you can send it in a report to tumblr.com/abuse. Say it makes the website unsafe and that many users are affected. Be sure you only send a report if there's content to show, not just testimony and usernames.

You MAY especially get targeted by this for responding to, reblogging or liking this or any other posts about her, but if you don't care or already got on her list it probably pays to boost the warnings. Hundreds of users get this weirdo now, yes really from one actual person.

She doesn't have usernames to block, she makes up to five new accounts per day.

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Genuine question: so we know that Cybertronians react to certain Earth substances. For example, Knockout reacts to pepper spray being sprayed in his optics. So, if we go by that logic, then they could be effected by other chemical compounds, like Scarecrow's Fear Toxin. So that raises the question, if the Autobots and Decepticons of TFP were under the influence of the Fear Toxin, what would they see? What would be there deepest, darkest fears?

-Optimus would see a dead and desolate Cybertron and his teammates and enemies alike are all dead. Everything is lost. And he is all alone. He is the last cybertronian alive and he's being tormented by shadowy phantoms that remind him of what a failure he is, that he couldn't save anyone.

-Ratchet sees all the people he failed to save. Every bot that ever landed on his operating table and who did not walk away from it. They are staring at him, looking just like they did when they died and they are all blaming him for their deaths. "Why didn't you save us, Ratchet?" "We wanted to live, we trusted you to fix us."

-Bumblebee's visions consist of Megatron killing everyone he cares about. No matter what Bee does, he can't stop him. He starts with Optimus, then Bulkhead, Ratchet, Arcee... and then he goes on to the humans. And Bumblebee is powerless to do anything but watch and scream.

-Bulkhead experiences the fear of rejection. Everyone he cares about are disappointed in him, loathes him, hates him for being such a failure. They are mocking him, calling him weak and stupid and blaming him for all their failures. And the worst is, Bulkhead believes them.

-Arcee sees Tailgate and Cliffjumper's reanimated corpses. They are hunting her, controlled by Airachnid who orders them around like dogs. They want to tear her apart, limb by limb and turn her into another undead for Airachnid to control so she can sick Arcee on her teammates and friends.

-Megatron, as fearless as he claims himself to be, sees himself falling apart. Part after part until he's left weak and voiceless. He has always found comfort in his strength and ability to command. It's what defines him. To be left without these tools means that he can do nothing. He can't fight back, he can't order his soldiers. He's just deadweight.

-Starscream's nightmare is quite simple. He hallucinates enemies all around him, that they are chasing him with the intention to kill him. Some look like bots he know, enemies and allies alike, but most are just faceless shadow-monsters. And no matter how exhausted Starscream is, he can't stop running or else they will get him.

-Soundwave sees Megatron abandoning him. The decepticon leader blames him for a mission gone wrong and then just... leaves. Doesn't even look back at him. And even as Soundwave reaches out to him, tries to stop him, he just can't reach Megatron. The distance between them grows bigger and bigger the further he reaches out.

-Breakdown has a particular reaction to the Fear Toxin where he believes he can no longer move, that he is paralyzed. It's a purely mental thing, there's nothing actually wrong with his body, but the conviction is so strong he can't move an inch.

-Knockout hallucinates himself rusting. It starts with a simple scratch on his forearm but when he touches it, it suddenly spreads with frightening speed. The rust ages him thousands of years in an instant, chipping away at his red paint job and creating small holes in his armor that won't stop growing.

-Shockwave sees all his research, his hard work, disappearing before his very eye. Data files corrupting and deleting, experiments self-terminating. Everything, gone in mere seconds. (Personally I think Shockwave wouldn't actually fall for any of this and would just watch it happen like "fascinating, it's almost believable".)

-Airachnid's hallucination is almost identical to Starscream's. She's also being chased but unlike Starscream, who mostly sees faceless shadow-monsters, Airachnid sees all her past victims. Dead, rusting and decaying, looking like they did when they died or like they just crawled out the grave.

[enriquemzn262]

I have a pet emergency: My fiancé Lusana’s dog, Amy, had a miscarriage last week, in which a piece of placenta was left stuck inside her, it started to rot so she had to undergo surgery to remove it last Monday alongside her reproductive system, the vet told us it was already infected and almost compromised her intestines, as the damage had begun to perforate her womb.

That was fully paid by the both of us, and she was on her way to recovery, but just a couple of hours ago she started to bleed profusely from her vagina, right after we discovered her stitches had become infected yesterday, hence a visit to the vet earlier in the day in which he said we needed to up her antibiotics and clean her more frequently to avoid any further spread.

So basically we were both blindsided and caught completely broke, as the surgery costs us 200 dollars, we contacted the vet and he, knowing of our financial situation, recommended we use cold compresses and buy her a pill meant for blood coagulation, both of which we did and so for now the bleeding has stopped.

Nevertheless, he advised that if she starts to bleed profusely again, we have to take her to the ER ASAP, and since he doesn’t have one, it needs to be in a different vet and out of pocket, and if that doesn’t happen, we still need to take her to him in the morning, to find what happened and what can be done, and as long as its not another surgery, it will be free of charge.

So, an ER visit will set us back 100 dollars give or take, and a new surgery somewhere around 150, we just spend 200 and so are very short right now, but if we need to head to an ER at 2 am, we will, because Amy had been with my fiancé since 2018, she loves her so much she hates my guts since I took her “daughter” away, and I want my Luisana to have her for as long as I had Pacho, my old 18-year old pooch who passed away at the end of 2023.

So please, help us help her, anything will be of great assistance, and if she doesn’t need an ER visit, nor a new surgery, whatever we get will be used for a new round of tests, just to ensure this doesn’t happen again, to ensure she also gets to live 18 years!

This is the second time attempting to make a post about it, we just had a scare that was thankfully nothing serious, and the app deleted everything I had typed after it decided to refresh.

Anyway, thank you for the attention, sorry for the inconvenience, and if you can’t help financially, please keep Amy in your thoughts and prayers, she’s a great dog and basically lives to be petted by Luisana, and I want her to stay that way or years to come!

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini nini hate fuck with either blade or dan heng pls I beg 🥺💝

I finished this some days ago and it got deleted- also it’s unnecessarily long, and I’m not sure if it’s good… hope you like it anyway 😭😭

Dom!reader x sub!blade (reader is gender neutral)

Warning: pegging (can be read as a dick), chocking, slapping (once), degrading, rough sex, blood (hand injury)

Riiiip

The sound of bandage being ripped.

Blade wrapped his hand with the white cloth, biting one end to tied the other end around it. Slowly the pure colour got tainted with his blood, a crimson colour spreading and seeking though the fabric. He sighed, staring at his own hand with a distaste on his tongue, before glancing at the door. Heavy footsteps could be made out from the other side. Loud and hectic, stomping even. You must have noticed his arrival.

It was just as he predicted. Moments after he finished treating his injury the door got slammed open, a loud bang as the door hit the wall. Your figure stood in the frame, stopping, not entering his chamber. Instead you glared at him and scanned the situation. He instantly noticed how your gaze lingered around his injured hand, and how you were frowning. The man chose to not elaborate, hence you two were holding a starring contest. After a while you closed the door behind you and walked over to him, grabbing his wrist and yelled, “now do you care to explain?”

He knew exactly why you were so angry, but that doesn’t mean he understood it. Not giving him any time to explain himself, something he wouldn’t have done anyway, you continued your nagging, “why do you have to keep going on dangerous missions alone? I can’t reach you at all! It’s not like you use your phone after all.” You stopped for a second, still holding his wrist while he avoided your gaze, gritting your teeth in anger. With an impatient tone you said, “I’m waiting for an answer.”

If it were up to blade, then you could wait until the sun sets. He wasn’t a man of many words, and he didn’t believe he had to tell you everything. That was if it was up to him, because he knew it would get worse if he doesn’t say anything. With his usual deep voice, he uttered, “I wanted to practice.” This was the best excuse he could think of, practicing his sword. It was reasonable, no? “Practice? It’s more like you wanted to get hurt.” “Not get hurt, I wanted to..” he didn’t really want to say ‘die’ in this context, and you didn’t pursue it any further neither. You sighed at him, followed by a rough push from your hands. The male fell backwards, now laying on his back, stabilising himself with his hands.

“Lay down.” You ordered, and yanked the arm with the injured hand away, you didn’t want him to keep using that hand so much. The spot where his hand was has been tainted red. He glanced at you hesitatingly, his dark blue bangs almost covered his entire face. Soon he obeyed your command and laid on his back, you were still raising his arm up into the air. “Keep it raised.” Once again, you gave him another cold order. How did it escalate to this? He was pretty sure he knew what you were going to do, yet he didn’t mind. Just then his speculations were correct, and you pulled his pants down.

He smirked, it was a mocking one, as if he was laughing at you. At this sudden unexpected change in atmosphere. After a bit he asked with a challenging tone, “did the sight of me hurt turn you on?” You knew he was playing now, so why not join in? “Have you finally decided to speak, now that I’m in your pants?” Your hands grabbed his knees, raising them to his chest and folding him apart. It wasn’t about doing him a favour, so you just proceeded to manhandle him, making him spread his legs for you. “So eager, aren’t you? Give me a break.” Blade said, but he allowed you to do whatever you wanted without resisting. Without giving him any glances, you replied “Same goes to you.”

Even though you two shared such a foul mouthed conversation, the advances you did on him continued. Then you stood up, walked around the room for a bit and came back with a bottle of lube. The blue haired man looked at you awkwardly and waited, feeling a little stupid at the situation in front of him. As soon as you came back, you started working on his abdomen. Opening the bottle, squeezing some of the lube onto his half erect shaft. The cold liquid made him flinch slightly, and he frowned as he watched you keep coating him with that slippery fluid. It flowed all the way down to his hole, and his rim clenched. What a roundabout way to prepare him, he thought you were being unnecessarily childish.

With one of your fingers, you sloppily spread the contents of the bottle around his lower body. Somehow the mood was getting heavier with every second and he didn’t know what to say, until your little comments returned. “Getting exited, little pervert?” You also coated your own dick with the lube, before lining it up with his entrance. “So much that you stopped talking, cat got your tongue?” He wasn’t going to let you go away with that, or at least that’s what he planned. Instead of coming up with a snarky remark he had to bite his lip to stop a moan erupting from his throat.

“Gu-Mhn..! You- fuck..” his eyes widened a little, and he was furrowing his brows even more than before. You sticked it in without some proper preparation, and it caught him off guard. Since you used a lot of lube, the tip still slipped in, but the rest was starting to get difficult. He wanted to curse at you, yet the words didn’t come out, so he just hold it and glared at you. If you didn’t know him you’d think he wants you dead, even so you weren’t pleased by that, so you chuckled, “not with those eyes, bladie. I’m sure your hole can take it, after I fucked it so good last time.” “Shut up- ugHh..! You.. shit.” Suddenly his hand reached out to you. You didn’t know what he was trying to do, which is why you grabbed his arm and kept it in place. His hand was now in the air, some blood drops were dripping onto his belly.

“Keep your pawns to yourself.” You had such an annoying smile while you said that, especially so while you pushed the rest of your length in. “UHh..! Mhm-nGghH..” the male was still trying his best to keep quiet, making some grunts and groans on the way. Fuck, if this was under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be able to keep his hand still like this, he was sure he was stronger. Though this wasn’t a normal situation, with you inside him, spreading him open with your cock. It was strange but he felt a little vulnerable, and so hot.

Sweat was forming on his skin, face turning redder by the second. It must be because he just came back from a mission, he is tired, thats why he is feeling all this heat. He blinked, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling, noticing his heart rate going up and body twitch each time you touch him. When he opened his eyes again you were inches away from his face, startling him a little. With a gentle whisper, unlike your tone before, you mumbled into his ear, “you want to get hurt? I’ll make it hurt.”

The face of the male was crimson red now, matching the colour of his hand. He took a tad longer to process the information, and you didn’t give him that moment. You started moving without giving him a warning, hips snapping against his at an already rough pace. “Ugh-uUugGh..!! Wa-waAaaiit.., oh- fuck, fuck. It mhm.. hurts.” Blade clenched his fists, more red coated his tummy. You slowed down a little, intertwining your fingers with his injured hand, not minding the blood sticking to your palms. Then you resumed to your previous movements, pounding into him like there’s so tomorrow.

The switched between your gentleness and relentless actions made his head spin. He really tried to keep the noise down but to no avail. Without him noticing you went down again to whisper more dirty things into his brain, like calling him degrading names. Blade wrapped his other hand over your neck, gasping and whining as you kept going, whispering as a begging voice, “please.. ah, haah..” “does it hurt?” He answered without thinking, “a-a bit.., uhhh..” to which you asked again, “do you hate it?”

Both of you knew what he would answer, and he didn’t want to cover up the truth as he uttered the words, “no, I love it.” That’s when the insulting really hit off, now that you were sure he enjoyed it too. “You really only go into fights because you’re a fucking masochist, aren’t you?” He shook his head, suddenly so expressive unlike before. “You sure you aren’t actually a male prostitute? Hmm blade? You fucking whore.” Even though you were calling him such hurtful name with such fever, he only felt hotter. The trust and the feeling of your dick rubbing against his walls was unreal, like a dream. And he wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare or not.

“Don’t you fucking dare leave like that again.” You said, panting a little too since you were still rutting into him like a damn animal. Despite all those hateful words, there was no way you actually hated him. You were angry because you cared, that’s all. And he knew it as well. Now your own hand looked like a grotesque mess, mixed with his and stuck to the bandages. He also didn’t feel pain anymore, or rather, it was because the pleasure was too overwhelming. It was all too much, from the way it rubbed against his deepest parts, to the fast pace you set. This felt so good he could cry.

When he still didn’t nod to your demand, you stopped holding his hand, they both instead reached out to his neck. The pale skin was now tainted red on one side. You squeezed down onto his trachea, watching his mouth hung open. “Did you understand me, blade?” He chocked, hand meekly reaching out to yours out of reflex. But he didn’t use any strength to keep you from suffocating him, only staring at you through his clouded vision. You thought you saw the corners of his mouth going upwards into a smile, and you watched his face get even redder. After a while you stopped, he immediately inhaled and panted. A bodily reaction, nothing he could control.

“I still haven’t gotten my answer.” You reminded him and started fucking into him again, at a slower pace. He trembled, his hole clenching around you even more now that you were moving so gently. It was way too late for that, after you’ve been so rough with him, no? Because now it’s not enough for him anymore, he needed you harder and deeper. Out of nowhere he felt a harsh slap on his cheek, causing him to shake. “Ah..” the male whimpered, eyes gazing up at you. You looked at him like he was vermin, akin to one would look at an insect. This alone caused a shiver to run down his spine and an uncomfortable twitch at his lower body.

He knew you wanted him to agree, but he didn’t want to, he wished to keep fulfil those missions on his own. This wasn’t something you could change, and he wasn’t willing to lie to you. Instead of answering your question, he grabbed your hand with his, and begged prettily. In a submissive tone, with a sweet pleading voice he said, “please, it’s not enough… I want you so deep inside me.” You noticed him spread his legs wider for you, and his injured hand being thrown over his mouth. Then he licked some of his own blood off.

You knew he won’t listen to you, after so many tries you knew. So instead of trying any longer, maybe you should go along with his request? Even if it leaves a bad taste on your tongue…

[tojisteddy]

hi! i wrote the 141 fic and i just wanted to address this with as much grace as possible. I am half Black.

I didn't include Gaz in my fic because I don’t know him, that is LITERALLY it. My entire exposure to COD comes from Tumblr. I genuinely had NO FUCKING IDEA Gaz was part of 141. I thought he was like König or Keegan, who pop up in other parts of the fandom.

I KNEW THE OTHER THREE WERE A PART OF IT FROM CLIPS ONLINE (IE. GHOAP INTERACTIONS) AND OTHER TUMBLR FICS.

To accuse ME (black woman) of racism for that is not only unfair, it's harmful. your supporters have been bullying the fuck out of me and i've had to delete anon submissions and block people.

i'm not going to include someone just for the sake of optics, esp if I can't write them well. there are tons of other gaz writers. was i wrong in tagging my post 141 men? sure! did i know gaz was in 141? no. i know nothing about him. i would not do him any justice.

in the nicest way possible, i can write who i write. my blog is self indulgent and i write who i know best. gaz is SUPER HOT, yes, BUT i wasn't particularly inspired to write him in this particular scenario. just as i wouldn't write someone like bruce banner from the avengers in an "avengers men with a fussy wife" fic bc idk anything about him. i dont think people would get on my case if i did that, if it makes sense?

and i would love to learn more about gaz, but i'm not obligated to write about him. getting on your blog to spread a false narrative to your followers is kind of unkind, especially due to your big following. but i just wanted you to know i'm not some white girl with an agenda.

hope that cleared everything up! :) xx

I wanna say first and foremost, my intention was not to send people to spread hate, bully or maliciously attack you and in no way do I condone that. Especially since I myself am a fully black women. That’s my fault in every way and I should’ve been more careful with my wording and should watch myself because of my following moving forward. Im sorry.

Secondly, I do understand only knowing cod characters via fics and edits on this app/tiktok and it’s not anyone’s job to have to look everyone up when you get interested in one singular character. You also don’t have the obligation to write every character known to man in every drabble/fic. That’s fine.

The conversation to be had though would be about exclusion and micro aggressions.

I’m not expecting you to know the ins and out of cod fandom especially when I see you do write for different fandoms (as do I). But exclusion towards Gaz on this app and in edits and the like, is a major issue in the fandom because of his race. And it’s probably a reason you didn’t know Gaz was apart of the 141. This is something that happens to many characters that look like you and me (black people).

And yes, I see (and again I apologize) that excluding Gaz was not your habitual intention. And sure, not all characters fit a certain scenarios.

But you not realizing Gaz was apart of the 141 was a micro aggression in itself, that’s what micro aggressions are.

The unconscious actions. 

The unconsciousness of excluding ppl who look like you and me just because of our skin color, facial structure and builds, the constant need to make black ppl look like aggressors even we don’t do anything wrong, being “scared” of black ppl having “too much” fun.

And those who are white, those are POC and those who are even half black, tend to do it a lot. Same thing with black men and colorism and how it’s ingrained in society’s culture. It’s done Unconsciously. (Not all the time tho) And I’m definitely sure for the white/poc ppl who follow me, it flew over their heads. They just see racism and that’s surface level. Yes, maybe that’s on me for not explaining it further. But that’s something that me and you have to live with till the day we die. And you should understand that.

Lastly, I want to reiterate, I know you did not mean it. I know you don’t have to write for Gaz if you don’t want to. I know Gaz doesn’t fit for some scenarios, same way that Soap doesn’t or Price doesn’t.

But I am saying to watch your actions towards ppl who look like you and me because they pan out at the end of the day.

[purple-babygirl]

One With Nature

Pairing: (dom)!Fae Lord!Bucky Barnes x (sub)!f!reader Word count: 1,850 Warnings: Supernatural elements, 18+ Content: mention of kidnapping, BDSM elements, being tied up, non-con/animal-assisted scene, nipple play, use of a pet name, use of sir and master, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum play A/N: this is what happens when I wake up way too early on a Saturday. I'm sorry that my mind is messed up. Ily tho:"💜💜 ~

Felt horny, might delete later

But dom!fae lord!Bucky who is a crazy bastard. He’d kidnapped sweet, shy reader a while ago using a fae trap. He fucked her day and night into submission until she could barely remember anything of her previous life before him and his cock.

Soon, she has accepted that there was no way out for her. That fae lord controlled her and everything around her.

One day as he let her naked body lie on the soft grass, basking in the sunlight and the afterglow of 3 orgasms, she smiled dazedly and said “oh how nice it is to be part of nature.”

Any other fae lord would have been thrilled that she has accepted her new reality, that she was finally enjoying her place here, but not Bucky.

Oh, no, no, Bucky had much dirtier thoughts in mind, thoughts that made him harder than he’s ever been before.

Which brought her to the present.

He has her naked, her back against the largest tree in his forest as tendrils wrap tightly around her wrists and ankles, keeping her in place and stretching her wide open for him.

She looks at him with confused need in her eyes as the cool breeze hits her pussy and hardens her nipples.

If he wanted her, why didn’t he just take her privately like he usually does? Why in the middle of the forest where birds were flying around and squirrels were climbing up trees?

She knew they were just animals but she couldn’t help but feel dirty being exposed to their eyes, even if their gazes weren’t interested.

“You wanted to become part of nature, bunny.” Bucky answers her unspoken question with a smirk, “didn’t you?”

When she fails to answer, shocked and embarrassingly wet at how exposed she was, he slaps the inside of her soft thigh.

“I asked you a question, bunbun.” Bucky’s glare is hard despite the use of her petname.

“Yes, sir.” She nods, swallowing her nerves.

She never knew what to expect with this lunatic, but her body was excited regardless.

“Good, today I’m gonna teach you yet another lesson, bunny. It’s called ‘be careful what you wish for’.” His smirk widens as she swallows again.

Bucky waves his fingers in the air and three birds instantly show up in the air by his head, floating, awaiting their next orders.

Her heart sinks even though she doesn’t know what he intends to do with the birds, but she knew it was going to be something crazy, something she’s never experienced before.

Bucky walks closer, raising his hands in the air and the tendrils lift her body up higher against the tree.

She gasps, whining when her thighs are spread further apart.

Bucky’s hands cup her breasts, rubbing her nipples between his fingers.

Her eyes close as another needy gasp leaves her.

“What do you say when your master is teaching you a lesson, bunny?”

“Thank y-you.. thank you, sir.” She pants as Bucky’s hand slides to her core.

“Atta girl,” he praises, nuzzling her neck, feeling her pulse under his lips. “Already so wet for me, bunny. Is it that I have you helplessly open for me that makes your pussy drool?” he teases meanly, chuckling when she whines.

Bucky watches her face closely as he rubs her clit slowly, her mouth open as low moans escape her.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you bunny?” He slaps her pussy and she jumps up the tiniest bit, the tendrils holding her in place.

“As much as I like seeing you fall apart for me, I also enjoy watching you beg for it.” Bucky steps away from her.

“Please—”

He clicks his tongue, interrupting her begging with a smirk, “save your voice, bunny, you’re gonna need it.”

Bucky waves his hands again and the birds move towards her as if under mind control. Two birds float by her boobs and one between her legs.

Her heart races as she tries to close her legs, panicking at what Bucky could possibly have brought the birds for, “sir?”

Bucky laughs, his eyes darkening with messed up desire, “don’t worry, bunny. Nature wants to be close to you too.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, the birds move closer to where she’s most sensitive.

She closes her eyes in anticipation and bites her lip, but then her whole body tenses up because she feels it.

3 blunt beaks are nudging her nipples and clit, repeatedly and in unison.

“Oh god!” Her surprised moan echoes through the forest, making Bucky chuckle.

She doesn’t know what to feel, her mind too clouded. She feels violated by those birds. Hell, she feels like she’s violating those birds.

She squirms but their beaks follow her sensitive nubs like a beacon. They keep pecking at her like a woodpecker would a tree, except it is just blunt beaks vibrating and nudging her most sensitive areas.

She’s trying not to enjoy it, and Bucky doesn’t like that very much.

He walks closer, his frown turning into a smirk as his hands delve between her legs. He holds her gaze as his thumb ever so gently pulls up the hood of her clit, leaving the aching button exposed to the bird’s beak.

A scream rips through her chest at the first peck, but then more nudges keep coming and she starts begging like a madwoman, her words turning into gibberish as her stomach clenches.

If someone had told her before that she would be nearing orgasm because a bird was pecking at her clit, she would have definitely called them insane, sick even.

And that’s exactly what fae!,Bucky was.

As he kept her torment going, his other hand palmed his unbelievably hard cock, pleasuring himself to her screams and pleas. Yet soon enough, his own touch wasn’t what he wanted.

Bucky lets her clit go and with a flick of his fingers, the birds retreat and fly away.

Her body sags slightly and her screams finally quiet down. She doesn’t realize she’s been crying until Bucky’s thumb touches her cheeks.

“What is it, bunbun? Couldn’t handle nature?” He teases with a smirk, his strong hands lifting her thighs to wrap around his waist.

“Please,” she whispers weakly and Bucky knows exactly what she’s begging for.

Holding his hard cock in hand, he swipes the leaking tip up and down her pussy, “cry about it all you want, bunny, but your body doesn’t lie.”

She shivers, her eyes closing as his cock teases her cunt.

“My pussy doesn’t lie,” Bucky groans as he pushes in.

She screams a moan as Bucky bottoms out in one thrust, his girth stretching her deliciously.

Bucky stays still and buries his nose in her neck. He presses the softest kisses to her skin as if he doesn’t have her impaled on his cock in the middle of the forest.

His fingers soon find her nipples and start plucking teasingly.

She throws her head back and before any of them can realize it, she’s cumming on his unmoving cock.

Bucky almost loses his balance as she quivers and clenches around him, his hand leaning on the tree behind her, “fuck, bunny.”

He groans, his blunt nails meanly keeping the torture going on her sensitive nipples until he’s milked her orgasm out of her.

She sags against him yet again, panting as tremors of pleasure ripple through her body.

Bucky holds her close, pressing his smirking lips to her shoulder.

She just had an orgasm merely from having her nipples stimulated. He has never made her do that before but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last time.

“Oh sweet bunny,” Bucky kisses up the side of her neck, “my sensitive, responsive, helpless bunny.”

He pulls his face away from the crook of her neck and looks at her, “open your eyes, bunbun.”

She obeys, and as soon as her glossy gaze meets his, Bucky grinds his cock inside of her.

The moan she lets out is music to his ears and the way her back arches makes him lose control.

He pulls his cock out before quickly sheathing himself whole inside of her again. He gives her his cock again and again until she’s a babbling mess once more.

Bucky likes her like this, screaming in pleasure she was made to take as he pushes her body to its limits, turning into a possessed soul on his cock.

His fingers find her puffy clit and she gasps, trying to squirm as she begged him not to.

Bucky only smirks before his fingers start thrumming her abused pearl, his cock driving deep inside of her, nudging her spongy spot repeatedly.

Her mouth opens and her eyes roll back as she gushes all over Bucky’s cock, her release dripping down onto the crunchy autumn leaves beneath their feet.

“Look at you squirting for me in the middle of the forest, bunny. Shameless.” Bucky keeps fucking her through it until her body can’t shake anymore and her forehead fall to his shoulder.

“Good bunny, so good for me,” Bucky growls in her ear as he fucks her harder, “gonna fill you up so good, you’d feel me in that sweet pussy for days.”

Her tired body is still thrumming with pleasure when she feels the first spurt of Bucky’s hot cum filling her up and she whines.

“Take it, bunbun. Take your master’s cum,” Bucky groans as he keeps filling her up.

When he finally pulls his cock out of her, he groans at the sight of her puffy, well-fucked pussy dripping of his cum.

He collects the leaking cum and pushes it back into her pussy, making her whine.

Bucky chuckles, “come on now, bunny, can’t waste a drop.”

He pushes his fingers deeper and starts fingering his cum into her, not stopping until she was screaming the last of her voice and cumming for him again.

She’s too out of it when the tendrils let her limbs go, falling into Bucky’s arms.

He carries her with a smile, kissing her temple, “you were such a good girl for me today, bunny.”

Bucky lets her close her eyes and drift off. He takes her home and cleans her up, dressing her into a soft, silky nightgown, and of course, no underwear.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s met with his handsome smile and cannot help but give a shy one of her own.

“How are you feeling, little bunny? Are you okay?” He asks as his large hand caresses down her back as he kisses her forehead.

“Yes, sir.” Her voice is hoarse from screaming and it makes Bucky smile wider.

“You did so good for me today, bunbun. I’m proud of you.” Bucky kisses her lips softly.

She’s too lost in the kiss to notice his hand sneaking under her nightgown to her bare butt.

She gasps against his lips when his index massages up and down her tightest hole.

“But you better have learned to be careful what you wish for or I’ll have my squirrels plugging this ass with acorns next.”

I'm sorry I-

~

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[zoeoe-sims]

Flower Arranging Mod V2.0 Testing!

Took a little longer than expected after my last post but v2 of the flower arranging mod is here! Because it's been so long since the last released version, as well as when I actually worked on the bulk of this update, I would really appreciate some people testing it out before I upload it officially.

Just FYI, this post isn't rebloggable because I don't want this testing version to be spread around too much, just in case changes need to made for the official v2.0 and it causes confusion.

More information about the update and for those who want to test it below.

Key Features:

Better flower arrangement selection menu. Instead of the insanely large pie menu, you select an arrangement from a dialogue window. You can reorder them, filter by flower, and view either all learnt arrangements or only available ones. You can even see a thumbnail of the arrangement, as well as what flowers are required and what you have already!

More effects from arrangements. Arrangements now have categories (Basic, Joy, Romance, Wedding, Funeral, Insult) and sims will react differently to them (new moodlets) depending on the type and their personality.

Scenting arrangements. If you figure out the requirements, sims can change the properties of arrangements to make them be fresher for longer, change their category, or provide life-giving/deathly effects!

Skill Journal Additions. You can track your stats, and complete two skill challenges for flower arranging perks.

Things that are not there (not that important, skip paragraph if you don't care :p):

Like I mentioned in my last post about it, in order to get this update out of WIP purgatory I had to not get caught up in too many features big or small. This includes having an autonomous version of the interaction, and some things that don't work quite as polished as I'd like. I've also had a few comments/messages on things like selling the arrangements in a business situation, and an issue with the arrangement ending up in a family inventory, as well as other random things - these are things I'd like to look into but it probably won't be for a while. I do plan on going through the MTS comments, and any messages people have sent me with issues/ideas so I can make a list and address them when I work on this mod further. If you have already messaged or commented about something, please feel free to do so again to make sure I don't miss it. Also custom dreams and self employed career - I started working on both these things and they would be so cool but that's like v3.0 so...

Info for Testers:

Because it's a big update, I recommend testers make a backup of your save just in case there's an issue, particularly with replacing an older version of the mod and even more so if you don't have nraas error trap. And make sure to delete your scriptCache!

I didn't come across any big problems, but I also didn't have a very established flower arranging situation going on. If you do, it would actually be helpful to know your experience with arrangements made pre-update and anything else that might be affected.

Finally, I don't want to spoil anything for people who want to explore the special scented arrangements feature organically which is why I didn't go into detail about it, but if you want to just be told how everything works so you can test it more directly, let me know.

Testing version of flower arranging 2.0 here (SFS)

Thank you!