#and what does she get out of enduring? nothing
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
maudie-duan · 2 days ago
Text
First Series!!!
Tumblr media
Series Summary: For nearly two years, Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat. At what point does he make the choice to either endure or let the stain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will just happen to be in the right place at the right time. 
A/N: You guys, this is my first series; bear with me. In no way, shape, or form is this meant to follow Harry’s actual life, nor are the facts or timelines real. This story will be from Harry and Shiloh’s POVs. I like switching between them. I’m nosy, and you get more details this way. So, if you like details, you’re in the right place. This story will be a slow burn, so hold tight. I’m glad you’re here!!! ENJOY!!!!
Word Count: 2K
Warning: Strong language, minor angst, eventual smut, emotional.
Harry’s (POV) Part 1- Mystery Girl
***
I don’t usually think of how my relationships will end, but I’ve been thinking about our ending—the consequence of our beginning looming over our heads as if it were a pleading prayer whispered into the night. When “I love you” no longer sufficed, the emptiness stretched between us and how fickle we were. How we continued seeking tiny moments, desperate to fill that void—A revolving door of new faces and places where we lay tucked away, pressing our bodies together like puzzle pieces, hoping that one day they would fit together—indefinitely.
Surely, we knew this wasn’t going to work, right? From the beginning, we’ve been on two different parallels, trying to make this work, trying to force a path through murky water when neither one of us knew when or how the tide would roll in—and here I am, miserable out of my fucking mind. In a shit headspace just waiting for this evening to end because there’s nothing worse than getting into a massive blowout right before an event. I can’t figure out what’s worse, the fight or the forced niceties. The last place I wanted to be was in public, but this is my life.
Olivia was on about something—actually, I don’t even remember what the fight was about this time, and that’s what it’s been lately. These bullshit fights about petty, senseless matters that take more energy to create than they do to fix. It’s just that she’s gotten so jealous and paranoid that I’m growing distant, that she’s the only one fighting to be in this relationship, and maybe she’s right.
—Side note: Before tonight, I really hadn’t been interested in anyone. Honest to god, I was truly in this wholeheartedly.
Anyone who knows me knows I’m constantly in the public eye, even if I think I’m lying low. There’s always a chance that someone will recognize me. The chances of someone taking a picture are even greater because everyone needs proof, or it didn’t happen, right? I personally don’t believe in this—but to each their own—If you know me and who I am, that’s precisely what you get. She knew this when we met, yet she insists that every move I make is for the world, like I can’t comprehend all of the sacrifices that she has made to be with me. Trust me, I know, and as of late, she’s taken every opportunity to throw it back in my face. 
In all honesty, I know that relationships take work, but isn’t there supposed to be balance? Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost that. We both jumped in feet first and now life seems to be catching up even faster—the constant push and pull in every direction is getting old. Everyone wants something, and she wants the most. It’s like she doesn’t understand the sacrifices that I’ve made. It’s not easy being the world’s biggest pop star and falling in love, but I felt she was worth it at the time.
And now she wants more—Roots that I can’t seem to give her. It’s like I’ve only just begun to find my own footing, stepping into the skin that finally feels right, that’s mine, and she wants nothing to do with it—She wants the control. She wants me to align with whatever she thinks our life should be.
I mean, I get it. I understand wanting the security of always knowing your next move or having a better grasp, but surely Olivia knew what she was getting herself into. It can’t be this big surprise that our life together isn’t panning out into what she had imagined, and the shittest part about it is that I don’t even want to try anymore. I don’t want the things that Olivia is trying to project onto me with every fight that ends with her begging me to choose her—is that not what I’ve been doing this whole time?
I’m lost in thought when Olivia whispers something into my ear. She had gone on and on about this Gucci Cruise show and was pissed when I decided I didn’t want to sit front row. I didn’t want to distract from the show or draw unwanted attention. Especially after that fight—God, that stupid fucking fight that left her in tears, her makeup a wet smear all over her face, almost making us late. 
Tonight was supposed to be memorable. How many people get the chance to attend a Gucci show? This was my first. It’s an honor that I wanted to appreciate and take in with the gratitude I feel not only for the brand but also for the friends I’ve grown quite close to.
“I just feel like the whole point of coming to a fashion show is to sit in with the audience and have a genuine experience of the clothes and the people—” Her comment is pointed and sets me off, so I do the asshole thing and walk toward someone I know leaving her alone with her underhanded comment.
Eventually, I walk over to the edge of the curtain, peering out into the crowd, trying to pinpoint faces I’ll see later, making a list of people I want to see or possibly avoid. As I skim the front row, my eyes land on a woman who looks vaguely familiar. Still, I can’t put a finger on it. She sticks out like a sore thumb. For instance, she is one of the few wearing dark sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Making her stand out in all black, except for the few accents that set her apart from everyone else around her, who are dripping with vibrant colors, something you would expect at a Gucci show—wild statement pieces, different patterns, and textures that ebb and flow amongst each other.
She was magnetic in a way that made it hard for me to look away. The light played off her features, creating a soft aura. A delicate ray of pink traced a faint glow around her. I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or a trick of the mind in my rose-colored glasses. When I lowered my frames to get a clearer view, I found that she was just as stunning without them—and still, to this day, I can’t explain the feeling; it was like my soul took the lead, reaching out, hoping to find a tether. A single piece of thread that could tie me to her.
And there I stood, my mind spinning out of control. I don’t even know how long I stood there. How long I continued watching her, captivated by how the light which seemed to dance with the shadows every time a model passed in front of her. Another thing I noticed was her ruby-red lip. How they spread into a shy smile, the light catching the gleam of her white teeth—a sight I imagined could be seen from anywhere in the room if you were fortunate enough to catch it. I observed her as she straightened upright and crossed her legs, almost as if she had suddenly become aware of her surroundings. Was she nervous? 
Her hair was slicked back into a sleek bun, tight against her scalp, making her features more pronounced and giving her a tidier appearance than everyone else. This timeless look could set anyone apart from the crowd, but what really caught my eye was the gilded chain dress that hugged her all-black attire underneath. I wanted to see her stand up. I wanted to know how the light played off the delicate beads draped from the woven metal. I wondered if it was uncomfortable for her or if she realized she stood out more than the celebrities around her. She had to be someone important, right? Not just anyone can sit front row at a Gucci show—Who is she?
As if she sensed my gaze, her head abruptly turned toward the curtains, causing me to jump back and bump into Olivia. “What the hell?” I hissed. 
Olivia stepped back, eyes wide, my words landing with a bite. I thought, “fuck is she about to make a scene?”—and yes, the bitterness was unnecessary, but it came more from defense than anger. I didn’t want to be found out. What was I doing anyway? How long had she been standing there? Could she see what I was looking at? Or could I pretend that I was trying to get a better view of the show, which was technically true, right?
“Can we please start over tonight?” she asks, almost pleading. “I know tonight is special for you.” Olivia runs her hands up my chest and cups my face.
“Okay…” I exhale. I want to have a good time, but a part of me knows I would enjoy myself more without her here, and it’s this very feeling that will haunt me all night, my thoughts like demons filling the room—unwanted guests that I’m no longer sure I want to keep at bay, and I know this isn’t fair. 
I couldn’t tell if it was the afterparty or the drinks that came with it, but eventually, the mind fog that plagued me throughout the evening began to lift. It was like a breath of fresh air, each drink diluting the pressure; the animosity threaded into every conversation Olivia and I had was evaporating. I could let go of the stress and relax into the theme of the night—and that was to have fun and fucking enjoy myself because I work hard, dammit.
It was getting easier to play into Olivia’s game of putting on for the coward. This was the part she liked; she loved putting on in a room full of people. She fucking thrived on the attention—she loved wearing me like a glove she could take on and off whenever she pleased. 
I was already three drinks in when I spotted my “mystery girl.” It surprised me—she was much shorter than I had imagined, but something was compelling about her presence. When she finally looked my way, I instinctively put my arm around Olivia, feeding into the lie, feeling like a fool when her eyes flitted over me with no recognition, piercing my ego in one swift look. I didn’t know what I thought would happen…actually, I’ll tell you exactly what I thought would happen. I thought my presence alone would be enough to garner her attention. Instead, I stood there stunned when her eyes lingered on Olivia, sending her a friendly smile as she mouthed the words, “I love your dress.” pulling at the strap of her dress to drive her compliment home.
Astonished, I stood by, holding my breath as the transaction morphed into Olivia mouthing a returned compliment, making ‘Mystery Girl’ beam and my chest swell with jealousy as she turned away, not even sparing me a second glance. She moved through the room effortlessly, like a hummingbird, moving from flower to flower fast yet graceful, donning that beautiful smile that had me begging her to look my way—just one more time. That’s all I would need. 
Was she a journalist? It seemed like everyone knew who she was. She spoke to everyone she encountered with such ease that each conversation I noticed flowed as if they were friends—though perhaps they were, but how was I to know? At some point, I lost her in the night, or maybe I knew I had to release her from my thoughts. I wanted to end the night on a high note, not go home with a suspecting partner to whom I would have to explain myself later. 
So, by drink five, I was being pulled onto the stage with Stevie, duetting a few songs, and as I closed my eyes, singing out the lines:
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above? 
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
I opened my eyes as we swayed into the chorus, browsing the crowd. My gaze locked with Olivia’s, who was crying, tears streaming down her face, a pained look of grief stealing her features. We shared a look of understanding. Maybe even realization, but it hit me hard, the sadness creeping up my spine as she turned and moved away from the crowd, and I noticed her bump into Alessandro, who caught her by the arm with a concerned look on his face. I pulled away from the microphone, my voice choking up, and I let Stevie take over. We both knew that our world was crumbling right before our eyes and when I glanced back over, searching for Olivia, she was gone. 
A/N: Ya'll let me know in the comments what you think. I'd love to get your feedback. If you think I should continue?? Hope you guys enjoyed!
Tumblr media
61 notes · View notes
barnbridges · 1 year ago
Text
Bunny has a great day every day. Marion, we knew, recognized the difference in Bunny's behavior as clearly as we did, and was puzzled and angered by it. If she'd seen the way he was around us, she doubtless would have realized that she was not the cause; but as it was she saw only the broken dates, the mood swings, the sullenness and the quick irrational angers which apparently were directed solely at her – Was he seeing another girl? Did he want to break up?
7 notes · View notes
dummerjan · 5 months ago
Text
i don't want to be brave about it or do it scared i just want to not be so anxious and afraid all the time
6 notes · View notes
iniziare · 6 months ago
Text
Re-tag drop: Yelan
#yelan: ic. [ that's a worst-case scenario. but all too often; the most pessimistic speculation turns out to be the closest to the truth. ]#yelan: inquiries. [ oh? you'd like to know more about me? what will you give in exchange then? ]#yelan: countenance. [ an old friend of mine once privately commented to me that yelan “is always smiling; but never with her eyes.” ]#yelan: introspection. [ like a phantom she appears in various guises at the center of events; and disappears before the storm stops. ]#yelan: meta. [ the chances are if i open this door; there can be no witnesses left alive. is that a sufficient reason for you? ]#yelan: little notes. [ how can things ever be the same again: knowing your life was saved when others weren't? salvation can be a burden. ]#yelan: wishes. [ that which hides inside her… that constant calling; it is the blood of heroes which has been howling for 500 years. ]#yelan: etc. [ every round of finger-guessing is a tiny adventure; and every roll of dice sends sporadic thrills down her spine. ]#yelan: home. [ i'm guessing you've fallen for the rumors about me being very wealthy; having high demands for my standards of living? ]#yelan: yanshang. [ the teahouse has really brightened up after the boss took over and kicked the fatui and gamblers out. ]#yelan: lantern rite. [ every year on this day; the lanterns light up the night. may the fire never die and may humanity endure. ]#yelan: chasm. [ perhaps she will plunge into that darkness one day; and the ill fate that once befell her ancestors shall find her too. ]#yelan: scope. [ i serve ningguang. the tianquan of the qixing. the scope of my work includes some of liyue's biggest secrets. ]#yelan: weaponry. [ water. divided it is as streams uncounted: close yet untangled. united it is as a giant wave: inexorable; unstoppable. ]#yelan: uncle tian. [ there's nothing wrong with wanting to win other people's respect. but when has uncle tian looked down on anyone? ]#yelan: ningguang. [ we both made a mistake: we shouldn't have involved ordinary folk in what we do. / ordinary folk? ]#yelan: xiao. [ you think you're oh-so cold and ruthless. i'm not buying it. - losing one of us so the rest can escape? some victory that is#yelan: keqing. [ if something happens that they didn't anticipate; it throws their plans into oblivion. but the yuheng is different. ]#yelan: ganyu. [ i could never work non-stop like she does. certainly not at that level of efficiency. i guess being half-adeptus has its pe#yelan: yanfei. [ when i help her out; i always get some invaluable leads in return. gotta say though: i think she respects me a little much#yelan: traveler. [ you don't have to be on guard around me. i never scheme against people who have my stamp of approval. ]#yelan: v youth. [ you're still young. be patient. believe in yourself; and don't look outside yourself to prove your value. ]#yelan: v. pre-qixing. [ i don't do these things to help the powerful or mighty get rid of dissident forces. but because water too has a sou#yelan: v. qixing. [ seeing isn't always believing. and if you can't trust your eyes; you certainly can't trust rumors. ]#yelan: liyue. [ liyue will never plunge into disaster without clue of the danger like it once did. she will see that it is not unprepared.#yelan: wriothesley. [ don't fight over fleeting gains or losses. focus on where your heart is leading you and move forward. ] delusionaid.#yelan. [ i can't change the facts. but if it's a choice between the cold; hard truth and blissful unawareness: i'll take the former. ]
3 notes · View notes
darthteeth · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
URGENT!!!Help Abdul Salam Al-Anqar and his family get through this war in Gaza!!!
(URGENT) THEY ARE AT €3,445 OUT OF €50,000 GOAL
I was asked by @nader5555 to make this, if u cannot donate please please share this post. Copy pasted from a message i was sent:
Tumblr media
"Only a Few Hours Left Before We Enter Our First Year of War, Genocide, Starvation, and Displacement A Final Plea from the Heart of Hell: Save Us Before Hope Dies 💔🔥 I am Abdel Salam, and I have nothing left but words written by a trembling hand ✍️. The war has not only destroyed our lives; it has taken everything from us. Our home, which was once our refuge, is now a pile of rubble 🏚️.
My car, my only source of livelihood, was destroyed in a sudden strike 🚗, and the work that sustained us is now a distant memory 💼. Today, I live in an endless nightmare. Under a sun that burns everything in its path 🌞🔥, my family and I sit in a worn-out tent, a tent that shields us neither from the summer heat nor the winter cold ❄️. Insects 🦟 invade the place, diseases consume our bodies 🩺, and my younger siblings cry from hunger and thirst 🍞💧. We have no clean water or a crumb of bread to ease our hunger. Each passing day deepens the weight of this hell we live in.
Tumblr media
My Daughter Eman is Dying from Malnutrition 😨 My daughter Eman suffers from malnutrition; I have nothing to feed or treat her with. The deterioration of her health is killing me slowly. Every glance in her eyes, every pain she endures, crushes my heart 💔. How can I explain to her that what was once our hope has now turned into nothing but a mirage? The Night Only Adds to Our Pain 🌙 The night does not bring us rest; it only adds to our pain. We sleep on hard ground, feeling the cold in every bone of our bodies 🥶, with nothing but pieces of cardboard 📦 to cover us. My wife Aya cries in silence 🥺 as she watches our daughter’s future fade before her eyes. My mother Eman suffers from illness and needs urgent medical care 🩺💊.
Tumblr media
My Father Ahmed is Sick with Cancer and Needs Emergency Treatment My father Ahmed, who is sick with cancer, needs emergency treatment outside Gaza, and the cost of his treatment is at least $10,000, not including accommodation. As he suffers from severe pain, I cannot provide the treatment he needs due to our dire situation.
Tumblr media
My Siblings Are in Constant Suffering ⚰️ My brother Omar was unable to continue his studies due to the situation. My brother Nader could not take his high school exams, and my younger brother Mohammad suffers from brittle bones and needs treatment we cannot afford. Every day we live brings us one step closer to the end. Death surrounds us from every side: if not from hunger 🍽️, then from illness 🦠. And if not from illness, then from the despair that devours our souls. Where is Humanity? Where is the World? 🌍💔 We want to leave the devastated Gaza Strip to escape the machinery of destruction and killing and the severity of hunger and poverty. The cost of travel for each person is $5,000, and we are a family of seven members, bringing the total cost to $35,000.
Where are the compassionate hearts? Are you waiting for us to disappear into the depths of this suffering? Are you waiting until death takes us before you act? We are drowning, and we don’t have enough strength to scream for help 🆘. Will you let this cry go unanswered? 😭 Your donation today is our last thread of hope. With the little support I received, I was able to buy a simple phone 📱 to reach out to you. But the bitter truth is that what I and my family need is much greater. We are not asking for much; just enough to save our lives from this hell 🔥. Every donation, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death for us 👐. Don’t Let Us Disappear in the Darkness of Suffering 🌑 Don’t let our story end here. Be the light that guides us to salvation 🕯️✨.
With every tear, with every pain, I write this final plea to you, Abdel Salam."
taglist
@butchniqabi @xinakwans
@batekush
@appsa
@nerdyqueerr
@butchsunsetshimmer
@biconicfinn @stopmotionguy
@t4tvampireisms
@strangeauthor
@bryoria @shesnake
@legallybrunettedotcom
@lautakwah @sovietunion
@neechees @evillesbianvillain @antibioware
@akajustmerry @dizzymoods
@ree-duh @neptunerings
@explosionshark
@heritageposts
@ibtisams
@schoolteacher
12K notes · View notes
councilofcastamere · 2 months ago
Text
WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.
TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development
A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…
The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.
That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.
But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.
And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.
Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.
Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.
You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.
You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.
What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?
And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.
However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.
For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.
“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”
“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.
You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.
“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”
You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.
“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”
“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”
You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.
“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”
“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”
No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.
A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.
“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”
“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”
“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”
“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”
✫彡
And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.
“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”
“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”
“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”
You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.
You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.
You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.
You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.
And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.
You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.
“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”
“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”
“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.
Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.
“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.
“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.
✫彡
The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.
You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.
The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.
All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.
Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.
And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.
Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.
With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.
But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.
Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.
You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.
You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.
✫彡
By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.
But you weren’t alone.
Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.
“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”
“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”
“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”
“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”
“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”
“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”
“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”
You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.
“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”
You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.
“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”
You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.
Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”
“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”
“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”
You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”
Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.
“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”
He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.
“…your charms.”
You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.
You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.
Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.
“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”
The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.
“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”
You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.
“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”
“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”
His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.
“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.
All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.
His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.
“Cregan, I-"
And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.
You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.
“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”
Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.
He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.
“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”
“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.
“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”
“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”
Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”
You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?
You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.
“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”
You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”
He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.
“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.
“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.
“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”
You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”
“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.
His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”
“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”
He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.
“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”
You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.
“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”
“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”
You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.
“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.
“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.
Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.
“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”
“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.
He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.
And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.
Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.
The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.
Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.
“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”
You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.
“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”
1K notes · View notes
pogueprincess · 4 months ago
Text
Out Of The Woods
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: The war is over and Rhaenyra’s daughter gets a fresh start in The North.
pairing: Cregan x Targaryen!Reader
word count: 842
warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, grief, RIP Jace <\3
note: Sooo……. It appears that I’m in Cregan Simp Mode
Tumblr media
It is a brighter day than usual when your labors start. The sun even begins to peak behind the clouds, casting a gorgeous gleam over Winterfell. It has been six months since the civil war between your family has ended and it seems as though the smoke-like grief that clouds your mind is finally beginning to clear. After all of your pain and suffering, you are now far away from Dragonstone and even farther away from King’s Landing. As your younger brother sits the Iron Throne, you have a hope for a peaceful realm. As well as hope that you and Cregan will finally be able to start anew.
Things are different in Winterfell, especially now that the dance has ended. There is no pressure for your babe to have silver hair or violet eyes. No pressure for it to be born with a cock. All that matters is that the babe is healthy. Your child will not suffer the same hardships as you and your siblings once did.
You can hear heavy footsteps outside of the chamber as Cregan paces restlessly. While you endure another hour of labor, you try to keep your mind elsewhere. Your gaze is fixed on the flicker of the candle that sits in the chandelier above your head.
One of your earlier memories is your mother being in labor with Joffrey. You remember wincing at her screams and placing judgement on the names she called her midwives. Now you don’t blame her. You even admire her for going through this so many times. You miss her terribly.
Your hand grips tightly onto the wooden headboard as you try your hardest to listen to the instructions of your midwife.
“Push into the pain,” she advises you, “when the pain is at its worst, that’s when you will want to push the hardest, my lady.”
Your knees are at your chest, a thin layer of sweat covers your entire body, and your once white nightgown is now stained red. You inhale deeply as you brace yourself for another painful contraction.
And just like that, it’s happening again. It begins as a dull ache in your spine that eventually overtakes you completely. It feels as if you were being torn to shreds. Your muscles begin to spasm and each wave of pain is worse than the last.
A particularly loud scream echoes out into the hallway and it has Cregan bursting through the door into the room, his auburn brows furrowed.
“This is not the place for men, my Lord,” your midwife sternly warns him.
“I do not care! What’s happened?”
“Nothing!” you bark at him, your teeth gritted. This is a pain he is unable to comprehend.
“I’m fine, we’re fine. It just hurts. That’s all.”
Cregan frowns at you as he comes to stand at your side.
“My lord—” your midwife tries to interject once again.
“I’m staying.”
He keeps true to his word and remains at your side for the rest of your labor, despite your midwife’s wishes — earning him many dirty looks.
Another painful contraction comes and the pain is mind blowing. But it seems to be the light at the end of the tunnel. You bring your chin down to your chest and push with all of your might. You push as if your life depends on it, because it does.
“That’s it, my lady! Perfect. I can see the babe already, a full head of hair,” she states.
Just when you swear you cannot push anymore, you feel sudden relief and loud cries fill the room.
“It’s a boy,” your midwife declares, and Cregan squeezes onto your hand tightly.
“And he is one healthy pup! With quite the set of lungs!” she adds.
About an hour later, once you are moved from the birthing bed and all cleaned up, you sit in your large bed that you and Cregan share. Your babe is cozily bundled up and suckling at your breast, his tiny gums gnawing at your flesh.
“Do we have a name for him?” Cregan asks you as he comes to take solace beside you, peering down at the tiny babe.
“I’m not quite sure yet,” you reply, your mind still hazy, your heart full, “did you have something in mind?”
“I was thinking… he holds a striking resemblance to your brother. What do you think?”
You glance down at your newborn son. An angelic face matched with tiny wisps of dark hair that threaten to grow into a thick head of curls.
“Oh,” you coo, “yeah… yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”
Cregan smiles widely at you, in a way that makes your heart want to burst right out of your chest.
You and Cregan both held great love for Jacaerys. It was something you bonded over when you were first getting to know one another. After spending so much time with him at the beginning of the dance, Cregan began to care for Jace as if he was a brother of his own.
“So it’s settled then,” he states with pride, “we’ll call him Jacaerys.”
“Jacaerys,” you breathe out in agreement as your husband places as gentle kiss on your forehead.
2K notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 5 months ago
Text
Sanemi Shinazugawa falling hard for his polar opposite but is too subborn to confess until he does
Tumblr media
Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,9k
Synopsis: Sanemi was never the type of guy who falls for something stupid as love. Especially not when it comes to his polar opposite, especially not with such a kind and gentle girl like you... Right?
Warnings: this is pure fluff y'all, reader and Sanemi being innocent babies, a tiny bit enemies to lovers
Thank you soo much for that cute request @blunderland, I just knew I had to write that asap hehe. Let me know what you think <3
Tumblr media
There you stand with your stupid perfect face and smile so gentle that you could tame a demon with it. With worried expression, you bend over the little demon girl and inspect her wounds carefully.
“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon”, you speak out while caressing her dark hair.
What a poor girl she is. And her brother…Your eyes drift towards the boy with the beat-up face. What he had to endure is truly unfair, too much to bear for a single person. He really lost his whole family apart from that one sister who got turned into a demon.
And now he’s fighting for the demon slayer corps.
“I admire you.”
Tanjiro Kamado’s eyes widen in utter surprise.
“There’s no need to admire me. Actually, I’m the one who’s looking up to you. You’re the first person who didn’t judge my sister because she’s a demon.”
“Demons were once humans too”, you explain briefly while gracefully getting up.
“And I refuse to see them as anything else until they prove the opposite.”
“What kind of fuckery is this, (y/n)?”, an oh so familiar voice barks at you from behind.
Sanemi Shinazugawa really seems like a man with a heart made out of solid ice with his hateful orbs gleaming at Tanjiro and his sister.
“Don’t you think they proved themselves more than enough, Sanemi? If Kagaya-sama agreed on allowing Nezuko Kamado to live and her brother to continue fighting for the demon slayer corps, there is nothing to question for us hashira.”
“Don’t touch that demon brat so casually”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your wrist tightly.
Your heart skips a beat when his bare skin touches yours. How ridiculous it is that you developed feelings for him. Out of all the other hashira, it was always Sanemi Shinazugawa before everyone else. Those rare moments of tenderness he shows from time to time, the way he worries about his comrades without expressing his true feelings to the world. His closed like a treasure, so gorgeous that you can’t take your eyes off him.
“That isn’t a very nice way to talk to our guests, Sanemi”, you reply softly.
Urgh. He can’t fucking stand you with that scolding expression on your face, how your other hand still rests on top of the head of that demon brat. Why do you have to be so sickening kind to everyone you meet? Why are you even a part of the demon slayer corps with that strange attitude of yours?
“Guests? Are you talking about those intruders? If it was for me, I’d rip both of your heads off without blinking-“
“Sanemi.”
Before he’s able to react any further, he finds his own face framed by your much smaller hands and eyes focused onto his so intensely that he feels his cheeks heat up in an instant.
Why…Why is he suddenly feeling so hot? He should slap your hands away, should show you your place-
“Trust me, I understand your anger. But they are innocent until they prove themselves guilty.”
Those calm eyes who never lose their composure, the eyes he threatened to get lost in countless times already. Why do you have to be so damn gorgeous?
Gorgeous? He furrows his eyebrows, body yanking away from yours instantly. There’s nothing gorgeous about someone like you.
“If you really think that you’re a fool”, he bites back before turning on his heels and storming away.
What the hell was he even thinking? You, gorgeous…Just because your eyes seem to sparkle in the sunlight or the way your hair looks like liquid silk when a ray of light hits it perfectly. Or maybe because of the way your uniform hugs you so well, because of your strength. Or is it the way you look at him?
Sanemi shakes his head vehemently. That’s absolutely ridiculous. You’re the complete opposite of him. How could he ever like you?
“I think Shinazugawa-san likes you, (y/n)!”, Mitsuri babbles out while making her way back with you.
“Really? It definitely didn’t look that way”, you reply with low voice.
Oh, how much you’d hope that someday, the wind hashira actually likes you back. Even though both of you are polar opposites, even though you might never be on same terms. You still somehow managed to fall hard for him.
“Don’t give up hope, (y/n)! I definitely caught the way he looked at you earlier!”
You smile at the girl next to you gently, how she starts analyzing every minor detail of your confrontation earlier on. Mitsuri always swore that there is chemistry between both of you.
“And I’m never wrong when it comes to love, you can trust me (y/n)!”
“You’re a fool for treating (y/n) like trash, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly while letting his feet dangle from the tree he’s resting on.
“What are you even talking about, huh? It’s none of your business how I’m talking to her anyway.”
“(y/n) truly has a tender and kind soul. What a shame it is you hurt her like that”, Gyomei adds, tears streaming down his face in waterfalls again.
“Are you too dumb to realize she has feelings for you?”, Obanai continues.
You? Feelings for him? He huffs out loud. Absolutely ridiculous, maybe even impossible. Why would someone like you fall for someone like him? Not that he’d care for you like that anyway…
“I don’t give a shit”, Sanemi finally mutters through gritted teeth.
“Shinazugawa, it seems like you have a type”, Gyomei declares all of the sudden.
Something inside Sanemi snaps.
“Are y’all actually too dumb to realize that (y/n)’d never want me? I’m actually so far away from being her type I might be on a whole other planet! It’s like everything I am is exactly what she doesn’t want”, he finally blurts out.
Sanemi’s heavy pants hang in the air while the eyes of Obanai, Giyu and even Gyomei are set on him.
“You should really start working on your self-esteem, Shinazugawa.”
“JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE Y’ALL!”
No, he can’t stand their bullshit anymore. Without listening to another word, Sanemi stomps away in the direction of his estate.
“(y/n) being in love with me? That I don’t laugh, why would I even care about that girl?”, he mumbles under his breath.
-a few days later-
Sanemi swallows heavy, orbs wandering up and down your body. You’re not wearing your usual black uniform and blooming haori. No, you look like a fucking goddess in that kimono and with those flowers braided into your hair.
“Do you think I look like too much?”, you question quietly, your own eyes wandering down your body in distress.
Maybe it was a mistake wearing that kimono for your meeting with Mitsuri. Of course, you knew she’d ask Obanai and Sanemi to accompany you. After all, it’s no secret that she adores the serpent hashira and knows too well about the feelings you hold for Sanemi. But now that you stand in front of him in something apart from your usual uniform, your confidence is blown away by the wind.
“You have to be kidding me. You look gorgeous”, Sanemi blurts out before thinking twice.
Fuck, did he really say that? You definitely think he’s a creep now. Maybe he should get going before it gets uncomfortable-
Your heart skips a beat, cheeks heating up in an instant. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa just call you gorgeous when he’s standing in front of you in that dark green kimono? How is it possible you’re never seen Sanemi in something apart from his usual uniform, that you never went out with each other?
“You look very handsome yourself. Dark green really suits you well”, you reply shyly.
Is it possible that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same about you? No, that would be absolutely ridiculous, right?
“(y/n), actually there’s something I wanted to say you for quite some time now…” What the hell is he blabbering about? There’s absolutely nothing he has to tell you apart from how fucking annoying you are. You and your gentle voice, you and your captivating smile. You, the polar opposite of him-
“Oh, I actually wanted to tell you something as well!”, you reply a little too fast.
For a moment, you fear your knees might give in. Is this really the time to tell him about your true feelings? “Sometimes you have to be brave, (y/n), especially when it comes to true love! Confess to him!”
Mitsuri is the love hashira. She should know best, right? But what if you’ll make your relationship only worse by making him uncomfortable? What if he doesn’t even like you?
“Sanemi, I…I actually…I-“
“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally blurts out.
Oh.
There you stand with your opened mouth and blank mind. Did he really just say that? Maybe he didn’t mean it that what. But what if…What if he actually means it?
“You…love me?”, you breathe out.
“I know I’m your polar opposite and that I treated you like shit and I really don’t expect you to actually like me back. I just…wanted to let you know…”, the white-haired man opposite of you mutters while scratching the back of his head.
“But I actually do like you back…”
Sanemi’s eyes dart towards you immediately, his very own cheeks discolored bright pink.
“You…what?”
“I guess I was just never brave enough to let you know since I was sure you hate me…”, you mutter in response.
“Me, hating you?”
All of the sudden, you find his strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face only inches away from yours. You fail to breathe, your whole body refusing to function properly. That force of a man who never really seemed to care about you while your feelings for him were all over the place…He holds you so tight that your wobbly legs don’t have to carry your weight anymore, his usual so distressed orbs now looking down at you so passionately that your heart skips a beat.
“Do I look like I hate you?”, he challenges while pulling you even closer.
You expected a lot of things that could have happened today. Sanemi Shinazugawa declining Mitsuri’s invitation in the first place. Sanemi Shinazugawa keeping his safe distance to you. Sanemi Shinazugawa barking at you for being a blowhard. Sanemi Shinazugawa criticizing each and every little thing you do. But Sanemi Shinazugawa admitting his love for you, Sanemi Shinazugawa holding you tightly in his arms?
Not in a million years.
“I love you too”, you finally speak out.
“I actually did for quite some time. But I always thought you’d never like me back.“
“Well, here I am liking you back, idiot”, Sanemi mutters.
Is that a smile on his face? Why does it suddenly feel like his lips are moving closer? Oh, you thought about kissing that man countless times. Each and every night, you imagined what the privilege of feeling his soft lips pressed against yours might feel like. Is he rough, gentle? Did the wind hashira already share a kiss or two? Out of instinct, you close your eyes, allow yourself to get lost in his arms.
“Look what we have here. Seems like the two of you finally managed to admit your feelings”, Obanai’s dry voice jeers at you from behind.
Your eyes dart open immediately.
“No Iguro-san! You’re interrupting them!”, Mitsuri hisses.
“Are you too dumb to see we’re in the middle of something? Get lost, you fools!”
“I KNEW IT (Y/N)! I KNEW HE LOVED YOU!”
Tumblr media
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine
1K notes · View notes
earlysunshines · 4 months ago
Text
just pretend(?)
danielle marsh x fem!reader ; angst, fluff
synopsis: your coworker can’t seem to fall out of love with you so you convince your best friend to fake date you. sometimes the “fake” seems a little too real.
warnings: PINING!!! ; danielle is touchy and wonderful and reader is a mess ; kinda all over the place?? I'm also a bit iffy ab the pacing on this one ; bit of angst near the end ; alcohol ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread… none of my fics are…
a/n: this is based off my life rn bc my friend and i r literally fake dating so my coworker can stop being in love w me and i just HAD to turn this into a fic like what (but most of this is exaggerated ofc esp the whole coworker thing I made her a little over the top on purpose for the plotLOL)
Tumblr media
"absolutely not." hanni looks disgusted, almost appalled with that stupid expression on her face. “you’re crazy.”
"please, i'll pay you." you beg, clasping your hands together and giving her your best puppy eyes.
"you're going to scare the hoes away... no, no, and no.”
"what ‘hoes’ hanni? when is the last time you've talked to a girl." you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose.
she sticks her tongue out at you, then responds, “you wouldn’t know…”
“dumbass the only reason i’m begging is because women do want me. please, it’s not going to be serious or anything—“
“i don’t care, the answer is no. ask someone else!”
you’re currently perched on the edge of your best friend's bed, practically begging for help. you seem to have a knack for attracting the strangest types of people, and this time, it’s your coworker who’s got severe attachment issues and an unhealthy level of codependency. all you wanted was a paycheck and simplicity, but now you find yourself in a situation you never asked for.
your best friend groans again, “you and your flirting… it gets you into this shit time and time again and the way you act… you know what you’re doing.”
“what?”
“shut up, you act gay and you know people fall for that. i’m not gonna help you because you want to be an asshole, if you could just be normal for once—“
“fuck you.” you flop onto her bed, shutting your eyes and rubbing your face. “i’m just nice and it’s fun to flirt! it’s nothing. i flirt with my friends and you all the time, they’re fine with it.”
“that’s because they’re straight, y/n. gay people are very vulnerable – except me.”
“you would know.” you retort, earning a glare from hanni. “who the hell do i ask then?”
“haerin?”
“she wouldn’t.”
“yunjin?”
“we don’t match, plus, she dates around.”
“sakura?”
“edating someone right now, some girl in france?”
“the hell?”
“i know.” you sigh louder and hanni just looks at you with slight, playful disgust. “what do i do.” you flop your hands onto the mattress and stare up. “dude, she’s too obsessed, i’m flattered because i mean, maybe i’m attractive and whatnot but this is just–”
“--delusion at its peak.” hanni clicks her tongue, now smiling at you; an idea pops up in your best friend's big head. you turn to face her, raising a brow. “how about dani? she’s literally perfect.”
danielle marsh is perfect, that’s the problem.
she’s a biology major whose ipad pro notes are so neat and pleasing to the eye that they genuinely keep you awake at night – most of it being because you’re leeching off her, but they’re so neat it really has you thinking how she does it all. 
to make things even more bewildering (and impressive), she’s one of two people you know – you’re unsure whether your cousin hyein counts, high school is nothing compared to what you endure – who manages to get at least eight hours of sleep daily. in contrast, everyone else in your circle, including yourself, is barely hanging on by a thread. 
yet, danielle seems to have cracked the code. she even finds time to volunteer at the library where she works, making you wonder if she’s some sort of extraordinary being. her ability to balance everything so effortlessly leaves you in awe, often questioning if she’s even real considering how remarkable she is.
the worst part is that she’s your best friend, right after hanni, and the person you’ve been crushing on since your first semester of university. 
it’s impossible not to have a crush on her—she’s gorgeous, sweet, and embodies everything you could ever want and more. she’s captivating, and every time you see her she flashes that stupid, adorable smile that makes your heart do a flip regardless of how many times you’ve convinced yourself that she’s unattainable and that there’s no way and that you don’t even like her and–
“i couldn’t.” you shut hanni down, quick. “she’s… you know.”
hanni furrows both brows, turning her head. “she’s what?”
“you know.” you make some strange gesture with your hands that only confuse hanni further. 
“i don’t, just fake date her.”
“she wouldn’t agree.”
“sure she would, let me call her!”
you shoot up and look at hanni with an expression that screams ‘are you out of your mind?’ as she finds danielle’s contact on her phone. 
before you can stop her, you hear a ringing sound and feel your body give up. hanni grins at you when danielle picks up five seconds later, both of you hearing a friendly, “hi!” as you back away from her.
“hey mo dani!” hanni greets, giving you a shit eating smirk. “miss l/n has a question for you.”
“she’s with you?” danielle’s voice is sweet like honey even from the phone. “hi!”
“hey!” you greet a little awkwardly, glaring at hanni. 
“y/n was wondering if you could date her.” 
eyes widening, you leap and grab the phone from hanni immediately, sputtering out jumbles of words nervously, “n-no! i mean, yeah… but not for real.” 
“oh,” you hear danielle respond lowly from the end of the phone. “wait, i’m confused.”
hanni watches you close your eyes tightly, clearly flustered and thrown off by her little antics. 
“y/n came over to ask me to date her, not actually, but just like, pretend.” hanni explains, “her coworker is still in love with her.”
“sarah?” you hear from the other end of the phone. “i thought you rejected her like, three months ago.”
“i did, but she’s still… ugh.” you flop onto the bed again and danielle hears hanni laughing in the background. “she’s still stuck on me i think, i don’t know, she’s been so…”
“if it’ll stop bothering you then i’ll help!”
“you will?” you respond, shocked. hanni mouths an i told you, then gets shoved. 
“yeah! i don’t want my best friend being so bothered, it must make you uncomfy too, right? working with someone who likes you?”
you start to wonder if danielle would be uncomfortable in a similar situation, maybe in one where she’s friends with someone who likes her, but she’s unaware of that. you shake your head, clearing your mind and staying present.
“kind of, it’s just… extra stress.”
“okay, then let’s date!” she beams, you can picture her eyes scrunching and smile growing. you want to die (affectionate) just thinking of it. “this should be fun!”
“thanks for helping out dani, thanks so much. i’ll let you be, okay? gotta go um… run errands.” 
“alright! just text me, bye, love you.” the call ends and you sigh again, feeling yourself sink deeper into hanni’s sheets.
hanni is very much your mortal enemy, she still doesn’t know why you’re so distraught because of danielle. whatever the reason may be, it makes her cackle next to you.
it’s nine in the morning, you didn’t have time to pregame the lecture on microbiology with at least three shots of espresso, and you’re yawning as you leave the room.
you hear your name being called out and turn to see no one other than the feeling of hot chocolate on a cold, snowy day turned into a person walking towards you – danielle.
“hey! hi.” she greets, smiling wide. her hair is clipped up and small strands of her hair stick out cutely. “hey baby.” 
you almost choke. “what?”
“did you forget we’re dating now?”
“oh.” dating, but is it even that if it’s not real? “um, hey babe?” it comes out uncertain and danielle laughs.
“wow, you suck at this – it’s okay, we’ll work on it.” she giggles, then links her arms with you. “let’s go get coffee, i need it in my system right now. oh my god, it’s our first date!”
laughing to hopefully fade away all signs of being flustered to oblivion, you tighten your arm that’s locked with hers. “right, yeah.”
you’re going on a ‘date’ with the prettiest girl on campus, she’s paying for your iced americano with oat milk splashed into it, and she’s smiling at you like you’re laughter in the rain. this can’t be good for you, it can’t be — it’s not. you wonder whether this will be worth it in the end because your coworker doesn’t even know about any of it.
(yet.)
before your next shift with your delusional coworker, you and danielle have already conjured up a storyline and backstory for your whole arrangement.
you two conversed for an hour after walking towards the park near her apartment and sitting down next to each other on the swings like kids. danielle was giggling and you were smiling at how charming she looked. unfortunately, you found yourself falling even harder for her just from making up the whole fake story.
danielle suggested keeping it simple, but cute: you two met at the library she worked at, you found her cute and exchanged numbers, went on a few dates, and have been girlfriends for nearly two months.
“but i literally told sarah that i wasn’t looking for anything.” you explain, sighing as you kick the mulch on the ground. that’s what you had said, but what you meant was that you’ve been looking for danielle the whole time. “she won’t believe it.”
“well,” danielle gives you a cheeky look and giggles. “i managed to charm you in a way that pushed that whole idea aside. that’s not too unbelievable, right?” she winks at you and you feel your heart stop momentarily.
you scoff playfully and snicker, “oh shut up.”
“it’s part of the story! are you saying i have no charm…”
she has too much charm. 
“dani, you’re such a dork.”
“a dork that caught your heart! i think this story is perfect.”
pushing aside the slight ache in your heart and the flush in your cheeks, the two of you formulate a first date story: you took her out bowling, where you lost terribly to her (danielle insisted this detail had to be included), and then you both had dessert together at your place. 
it’s not a terrible story, not at all. even hanni would be impressed, but you’re not going to tell her because she’d tease you both relentlessly, and you’re not sure your heart could handle that.
danielle walks you into work holding your hand, your coworker, sarah, watches the whole thing.
a pretty girl (pretty is an understatement in your opinion) smiles at you while walking you in, she’s telling you about the little kids she read to the other day and you can’t help but marvel at the excitement coursing through her.
she drops you off near the register right before the small ‘employees only’ sign, then holds both of your hands and looks at you like you’re a flower that’s just bloomed beautifully.
she pauses, observing you closely, then smiles wider. “okay, i’ll get going sweetheart.” the pet name makes you swallow subtly. “have fun at work!”
she takes her hands away from yours, making your skin feel a little colder. “bye, see you.”
danielle glances at your coworker, who’s looking at her with something mixed with confusion, anger, and a hint of disgust. she then looks back at you – a better sight in her opinion – smiling and waving once more before walking away.
you stay there, frozen for a few seconds, before walking behind the counter and setting your bag down.
as you grab your apron, you catch sarah in your peripheral and turn to greet her. “oh, hey.”
“who was that?” she asks immediately. “what’s up with the ‘sweetheart?’”
you grin as while tightening the lace of your apron, then respond, “my girlfriend.” and it feels wonderful rolling off your tongue.
“what? i thought you didn’t want anything?”
“you still in love with me or something?”
she feels her throat dry as she looks at you pat down your apron. “w-what?” she stutters, shaking her head. “no, why would i be…” her tone isn’t convincing, and neither is she when she adds, “it’s just… what’s with the change of heart?”
“she’s really charming,” the thought of danielle begging you to mention that makes you blush. “i like her a lot.”
sarah fights back a frown, instead, her lips twitch into a forced smile as she walks past you to tend to a customer.
danielle picks you up from work just to tighten the knot, and sarah also witnesses all of it.
both you and your coworker get off at closing, and after locking the doors, you run into danielle. 
she’s standing outside in a baby tee and jeans, a cap perched jauntily on her head. the moment she sees you, her face lights up into a pretty smile, and you instinctively return it. she rushes over, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. as she pulls back, she scans you with a playful yet affectionate gaze, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.
“sweetheart! i missed you.”
“i missed you too dani– baby…” you mutter the last part shyly, making danielle giggle. “you came? it’s late.”
“i wanted to pick you up, can your girlfriend not do that?”
it still sends a shiver down your spine – hearing danielle call you that. you rub the back of your neck and look away nervously, then respond, “of course not, i’m just surprised.”
sarah looks at the two of you, scoffing under her breath. danielle hears it, turning to look at her and grin, raising her brows along with it before meeting you again. she places a hand on your shoulder, then mumbles, “well, hanni called us over, i wanted to scoop you.”
“ohhh,” it makes sense now, she wouldn’t willingly pick you up just because of the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, there had to be a motive. “alright. i can drive? if you’d like, you know. you must be tired from work too.”
“aw, you’d do that?”
“i um,” you cough, avoiding her eyes again because she’s making you feel all flustered without doing much. “yeah, it’s nothing… baby…”
she grabs your hand, fingers intertwining before dragging you along to her small suv, then handing you her keys. 
your coworker groans now that you two are further, narrowing her eyes at danielle when she turns back not so subtly to make sure sarah is looking. any normal person would back off, getting the hint that the person they want is unavailable, but sarah sees it as a challenge, somehow.
there’s nothing she can’t achieve when she puts her mind to it, that’s her mindset.
you’re oblivious to how insane she is, too clouded with how touchy and giggly danielle is after the whole interaction when teh two of you get in the car.
danielle sits besides you on hanni’s couch, leaning against you a bit. “yeah, she gave me a glare, it was kind of funny.”
“pftt– i guess it’s working then?” hanni asks, walking over to hand you two juice from her fridge. danielle takes it happily and it makes you smile a little. 
“i hope so.” you sip on your peach juice. “but she’s like, clinically insane.”
“is she?” danielle questions, tilting her head as her hand finds its way to your bicep. you blush.
“dude, she was crazy.” hanni rubs her temple. “like, oh my god, she was going insane for a good while because y/n didn’t want her like that. i saw their messages and–”
“okay i’ll tell the story thank you.” you scoff. “she’s really competitive, and i guess new to romance? considering how she reacted i don’t know, she’s very…”
“sensitive?” danielle asks – you shake your head.
“i mean no, but kind of. she would get jealous over me really easily and was kind of codependent, like everything i do affects her or something. i’d just go on my day, but she’d always be so reliant on me and text me so often and i just… it’s so much.”
“ah, i see. how long has it been since you rejected her?”
“a few months. i thought she stopped liking me since it’s been so long, but lately there’s been tension and she’s looking at me how she used to…” hanni listens closely as she watches you rub your forehead, looking a little distraught. “i just, oh my god she has terrible attachment issues it’s concerning. the only thing i could think of was pretending to date someone.”
danielle nods in understanding.
“yeah, one time i went to see y/n at work and she looked so like… hostile. that’s not normal, we’re visibly friends.” hanni adds.
you know the exact afternoon that it happened, what hanni mentioned that is. 
she had pulled up to drop something off, and you teasingly flirted with her, hugging her as thanks. afterward, you rang up one of her orders and played with her fingers, a little habit you had developed to annoy her. despite the evident look of disgust and annoyance on hanni’s face, your coworker—who allegedly liked you a bit too much—looked like hanni had just slapped you in the face or spat at you.
long story short, hanni glanced over to see the coworker glaring at her menacingly. in response, hanni poked at you once more before hurrying out with a latte in her hand, confused and slightly terrified.
“yeah she’s… got a bitch face.”
“it’s not normal to glare at people that simply interact with your coworker…” danielle mumbles. “i’m sorry to hear that.”
you wave your hand, giggling lightly. “it’s nothing, really. i mean, i just don’t want her to be so obsessed and stuck on me, i think us pretending to date should tame the fire.”
pretending. 
the word makes both you and danielle tense up.
you clock in again, greeting sarah. 
she smiles brightly at you, waving and you have to make a little gesture to remind her there’s a customer in line. sarah turns away bashfully, then takes the man’s order with a hint of attitude. you’re not very fond of that.
he orders an americano, so you immediately get to work, weighing out grinds of espresso, tamping it down, and pulling two shots. as you do so, sarah pulls up next to you and nudges your shoulder.
“hey,”
“hi.” you respond, not looking up from the cup in your hand. “did you need something?”
“that t-shirt looks good on you, have you been working out?”
you feel uneasy the moment she says it, swallowing a lump in your throat. you pour the two shots over the hot water and force a response, “thanks, and um, no.” before calling out the order.
sarah continues to watch you closely as you throw away the used espresso, then says, “your girlfriend didn’t drop you?”
“she’s working.”
“right. i’d find a way to drop off my girlfriend anytime that i could.”
“good for you?” you look her in the eye again, clenching your jaw. 
“you don’t post her much on your socials either, are you guys really a thing?”
fuck. 
you scoff, “what kind of question is that? of course… i just… don’t post much. we’re still kind of new to this.”
“right, she’s not even your lockscreen.”
“i’m going to grab some beans from the back,” you interrupt, redirecting the conversation away from the topic of your alleged girlfriend. sarah narrows her eyes at you as you turn away from her, stepping away and disappearing towards the storage area.
once you’re alone, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the weight of the strange interrogation settle on you. there was an unmistakable hostility in sarah’s tone, a sharp edge that cut through the air. hanni’s right, she always is. the mere thought of enduring six more hours with sarah makes you want to crawl into a hole. her jealousy is palpable, and it eats away at you, gnawing at your nerves.
you pull out your phone and quickly dial danielle, pacing back and forth as you wait for her to pick up.
“hello?” she responds less than ten seconds later. “what’s up?”
“she’s catching on, kind of. i think she’s jealous.” 
“sarah?”
“yes.” you groan, then lean your back against the wall. “i can’t work like this.”
“i’ll come over? do you need me to?”
“no, but can we meet after? i think we need to be more public, if that’s okay.”
you hear her confusion through the phone. “what? public?”
“like, soft launch or something. i just need to make it obvious that i’m quote on quote dating someone – you. and we need a lockscreen together.”
a giggle is heard on the other end of the line, “oh wow.” danielle mumbles teasingly, “this is pretty serious.”
“i hope i die.”
“aw, don’t say that babe. just come over to the library after, okay? good luck on your shift! i have to clock in soon too.”
“can we meet at my place?”
“anything is fine, that’s alright.”
“i literally owe you my first born, dani.”
“it’s nothing, this is quite entertaining.” she says, and you smile with the phone at your ear. “call me later, okay? send me updates.” 
“right, yeah.” you almost whisper, “thank you.”
“it’s nothing, sweetheart.” her laugh is infused into the sentence, making your chest burn.
“this is so dumb.” 
you are so dumb. this isn’t helping your case.
hanni and minji are fighting back laughter while you try to naturally rest your hand on danielles knuckles. you’re stiff and it looks anything but natural. 
the angle you take the picture at makes it look awkward, and the picture’s quality sucks too. 
“just relax.” danielle says, then holds your hand instead. “here, let me take the picture.”
you’re trying to keep your cool while minji and hanni watch and danielle, the prettiest girl you know, holds your hand and scoots closer to you in order to ‘soft launch’ your fraud of a relationship. her hand is nice in yours, her skin is soft, and she’s so close you can smell the vanilla fragrance she uses. 
danielle snaps a quick picture, then the rest of the bunch – including you – scoot over to look at the picture.
“well would you look at that! it’s perfect.” danielle beams, grinning at her work. “post that one.”
“holy shit.” minji says in awe. “no yeah, you could fool me with that.”
“anyone could fool you, dumbass.” you snicker, looking up at her and smirking.
“i hate you.”
“oh, i guess you don’t want free food from my work…?” 
minji groans, making you laugh. 
danielle’s hand is still in yours, you don’t fully register it until you realize you need both hands to post a picture on your instagram story. she seems a bit disappointed when you let go, though you barely notice – and even if you did, you might just chalk it up to your imagination.
it's fun, no doubt about it. yet, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to take pictures of you and danielle that aren’t staged or orchestrated. you long for authenticity, capturing moments that are mundane and candid.
the thought lingers in your mind the whole time, even as you pose with your back to the camera, pretending to cook alongside danielle. it's all set up and artificial, every movement planned out, yet danielle starts giggling and leaning into you – a spontaneous gesture not part of your last-minute brainstorming. 
her laughter is genuine, her touch warm, and it makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, not everything is as fake as it seems.
you wake up from your nap and groan as your ringtone renders you awake. blindly, you slap your hand in every direction on the bed until you feel it under your other pillow. someone’s calling you, that’s all you can make out since there’s a red and green circle. 
tiredly, you mumble, “hello?”
“hi! are you busy?” it’s danielle’s voice responding, shaking you awake. 
“oh, um, no.” you say as you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes and running a hand through your hair. “are you okay? did something happen?”
“i’m fine! i was just wondering if you were free. you sound tired, were you sleeping?”
“i just took a power nap that’s all. what was it that you need?”
“oh, sorry to wake you.”
“it’s fine, seriously.” 
“well,” she starts, “i was just wondering if you wanted to go out together?”
“oh, me?”
you hear her giggle through the phone and smile softly. “i mean, i am calling y/n, aren’t i?”
“yeah, you are.”
“and i’m asking you, my girlfriend, to hangout. it’s like a date!”
“we’re not actually dating danielle, you don’t have to pretend when we’re calling and alone.” you say quietly, pursing your lips.
it’s not that you hate it, danielle being all lovely and playing the role of your girlfriend too well. the thing is, it feels like you’re getting led on, and the way she is just gives you false hope to something real.
danielle feels a little ache in her heart when you respond like that, but she pushes it away for the time being.
“i don’t mind it, it’s fun!” she beams. “anyway, there’s free ice cream downtown for couples, do you want to grab some?”
“is there? yeah, i’m down. do you want to take the metro?” 
“that’s perfect, there’s probably so much traffic.”
“alright, i can scoop you and take us to the station in fifteen minutes, okay?”
“perfect.” she closes the conversation, and the call ends.
you flop down on the bed again, just for a moment. your eyes are fixated on the ceiling above as you breathe in, thinking about everything. 
you and danielle aren’t dating, not for real. it’s just a show, a sham. she simply wants to hang out for free ice cream, nothing more. you know this. you set yourself up for this whole fake dating thing—well, kind of, considering hanni was the culprit behind this whole arrangement.
it’s already been over a month, and danielle doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, treating the whole thing as no big deal. you must be insane; you can’t keep doing this knowing your feelings are growing and she most definitely doesn’t feel anything real. it’s just to benefit you, and she’s a great friend who’s willing to help you out. yet, each time you pretend, it gets harder to separate your act from reality.
despite the turmoil, you’re up and finding a change of clothes in order to make danielle happy. because even if she’s not your girlfriend, she’s your friend and you love her regardless.
(sometimes the love you have claws you from the inside.)
danielle clings to your arm the whole way down to the city. sometimes she clings a little tighter than usual, then goes silent, and it makes you breathe deeply.
it takes a few wrong turns and teasing to get to the icecream place, there’s already a long line with actual couples. you feel out of place in a way; there’s partners holding the other by the waist from behind, setting their heads on top of the others. a few are just holding hands or lingering close and you can just sense all the love and adoration in the air. 
you swallow shallowly, tensing your jaw because danielle is close to you, but not because you two are something more than friends.
“wow, so many lovebirds.” she says in awe, gazing around.
“uh huh.” you feel her hand slide down your forearm, then her fingers intertwine with yours as she looks up at you. “hm?”
“to seal the deal.” she shrugs, smiling. “plus, your hands are big… and warm.”
“you have small hands.”
“perfect fit for yours.” she giggles playfully, making you do the same. “what flavors did you want? it’s two scoops for free.”
“you can pick both, i don’t mind.”
“what? c’mon, you should pick one.”
“no, you wanted ice cream. i’m just here to make you happy.” you admit, tightening your grip on her hand. 
she starts to respond, but stops for a few seconds. you watch her look away bashfully, staring at the ground and grinning to herself. she shakes her head, then says, “you’re so lovely…”
“pfttt, i just want you to be happy, seriously.”
“you know,” she begins, looking at you again. “whoever manages to become your girlfriend would be real lucky.”
“oh.” your lips twitch into less of a smile and you pause for a moment. “maybe.”
“this fake dating thing is making me realize that you’re such girlfriend material.”
a small laugh stifles the tension and awkwardness in you, “thanks? you are too.”
“am i?”
“yeah.” you stare into her eyes, shes everything you could wish for in a person. “very.”
before danielle can respond, the line moves, and it’s time for the two of you to decide on two flavors. it takes a while to do so, with you declining the offer to chime in and pick a flavor you want, danielle was the one to invite you out anyway. but she looks at you with puppy eyes, pouts, then puts a hand on the side of your bicep and it makes you cave in.
the final choices are salted caramel and coffee.
danielle holds the cup in one hand, drags you away from the area littered with lovey dovey couples – some being too lovey, considering they can’t seem to get away from each other – and leads you blindly towards a small alley in a neighborhood until a bench comes into view. she pulls you towards it eagerly, making you laugh until you’re both sitting next to each other.
you frown a little as you look at the ice cream in the cup. “some of it is melted.”
“not all of it!” danielle beams, then scroops a spoonful of the coffee side – the flavor you ended up choosing. “you have the first taste.” she says, bringing it closer to your mouth.
“wait, you should have it.”
“too late,” she starts to move it in a circular motion, saying, “ahhh~” as she does so.
you scoff, then lean forward and all of it is in your mouth in one bite. danielle watches your eyes light up.
“it’s good.” you mutter, then grab the other spoon to scoop the other flavor. you mirror what danielle did before, making her laugh just as much. “open wiiiiide~”
“ahhh~”
you snicker before moving the spoon into her mouth, she closes it and smiles immediately, melting in place despite the ice cream being pretty cold. 
the street lights make her look precious, highlighting the satisfaction on her face because of some simple ice cream she’d gotten for free. you want to see her this happy everyday and as much as you can. 
a small hint of ice cream is on the corner of her lips, it urges you to bring your hand over and wipe it off with your thumb. danielle stops savoring the dessert, instead, focusing on you. 
“sorry, there was… yeah.”
“mhm.” danielle says, staring at your lips. “it’s really good.”
“i can tell.” you turn away, feeling flustered when she looks at you like that. “let me try your flavor.”
the two of you continue to eat ice cream together, subconsciously scooting closer and closer as you share it. danielle’s head ends up on your shoulder when the cup is empty in your hand, silent in her place.
you don’t budge, mainly because she seems comfortable and you don’t mind ruining your posture a bit if it’s for her. she sighs contentedly, moving her hand over to hold yours in the midst of the moment, slotting together effortlessly. she doesn’t say anything, but you feel her lean into you a little more.
“you okay?”
“just happy.”
“ah,” you rub your thumb against her skin. “that’s good.”
“being with you makes me really happy.”
“being with you makes me happier.” you say softly, staring at your hands aligned seamlessly. “do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”
“please.”
“it’s getting late.”
“i know, just a bit longer.” danielle says.
just a bit longer. if only the whole arrangement could last forever, if only you two could be this close and warm for lightyears.
minutes pass, and neither of you move, lost in the comforting silence. the only shift comes when you turn your head to press a gentle kiss into her hair. danielle feels perfectly in place, her heart fluttering at the tender gesture. a soft smile spreads across her face, a silent acknowledgment of the moment's sweetness.
the night prior had to be a dream, it was too perfect. it was the realest you’ve felt with danielle, the closest to something romantic. it was even enough to consider that she felt the same, and you’d love to revel in that possibility, but you have to restock the beans and cups quickly before tending to the drinks.
there’s only thirty more minutes until your shift ends, it feels like eternity.
sarah catches you smiling to yourself throughout the shift, biting the inside of her lip. she’s filled with all too much: anger, jealously, dissapointment, and really just everything that makes her uneasy. 
she still can’t believe it, you had gone on a whole tangent telling her you couldn’t be in a relationship and now you’re being a complete loser in front of her. she hates it, she wants it to be her that makes you smile randomly throughout the day.
what pisses her off more, and truly makes her lose all hope, is when you go from looking tired and drained to bubbly and smiley as soon as a familiar figure starts walking toward the counter. 
she watches you check the time on the register, your smile widening because you can clock out and be with danielle, who’s waiting just across the counter. the change in your demeanor is undeniable, and it stings sarah to see the joy that danielle effortlessly brings out in you.
you walk over to danielle, reaching for her hand. “hey.”
“hi.” the way danielle says it makes your chest warm and sarah nearly gags in return.
what makes sarah's shoulders sink, her heart drop, and her frown deepen is when danielle suddenly kisses your cheek. 
the shock is evident on your face as you stand frozen, your hand instinctively moving to hover over the spot where danielle's lips had just been. the tenderness of the moment is overwhelming, and sarah can't help but feel a profound sense of loss. the realization that your heart belongs entirely to danielle crushes any lingering hopes she had, leaving her to face the painful truth.
“w-what was that for?” you look over and make eye contact with sarah, who’s grimacing. “there’s um, you know… bystanders.”
“i missed you, so much. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” danielle says simply, not bothering that sarah is the only one who’s witnessing this, and from a few feet away too. “do you want to get dinner?”
“it’s three in the afternoon silly.”
“well, anything is fine. we should study before we eat! i heard the module mr. lee assigned us was really helpful for…” 
the rest of what danielle says doesn’t register in your coworker’s mind. she studies you closely, her frown deepening with each passing second. it’s painfully clear to her now—you’re genuinely in love with danielle, and there's nothing she can do to change that. the way you look at danielle, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time, leaves no room for doubt. 
it dawns on her that giving up is the only option, and she feels a pang of resignation settling in her chest.
nearly three months have passed and both of you have still been ‘pretending.’
neither of you acknowledge that it’s fake, not during the weekly dates, study sessions, and late night walks or movie nights that end up in the two of you falling asleep together. danielle doesn’t think twice when kissing your cheek here and there, even your knuckles when she thinks you’re asleep. 
you figure that maybe it’s okay to kiss her cheek too sometimes because she’s her lips turn each time. and when you pick her up for weekly dates, she happily jumps into the passengers seat of your car as if it weren’t just a mutual agreement. sarah has already given up, considering she seems defeated, and you wonder if you should too. 
you can’t tell if it’s just how danielle is, which eats you inside. everything feels all too real, and your feelings only grow more unbearable.
you shouldn’t have let jimin drag you out to minjeong’s party. she’s already left the moment you stepped into the house, she’s probably gotten a hold of a drink already.
jimin had noticed how deeply stressed you've been lately. your responses were slower, your shoulders seemed permanently slumped, and the stress was practically etched into your face. being one of your closest friends, jimin decided that it was time for a change. she was determined to get you out and help you relax, knowing how crucial it was for your well-being (and social life, to be completely real).
walking around, you scan the crowd for a familiar face. unfortunately, the only people you recognize are sunghoon and jake, who have a history of hitting on you despite your clear disinterest. they still haven't grasped that you're a lesbian. you quickly decide to steer clear of them.
the only reason you’re here is because you’ve been throwing yourself into your studies, staying late at the gym, and doing too much to avoid danielle – or even the thought of her.
(which is unfortunately impossible since every little thing reminds you of her.
the flowers on the counter at your work remind you of her smile, the couch in your apartment is where you two have spent hours together, and really, you’re hopeless.)
you find jimin outside on the porch with her other friends that you’ve only talked to once or twice. they’re all talking about something, clearly tipsy, and you’re walking over to linger near your friend.
“y/n! oh my gosh girl, where have you been? come here, have a drink!” jimin grabs your arm, pulling you in and hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “here, take a shot.”
she hands you a shot of what you assume is some cheap vodka, you didn’t even have time to pregame for this. you’re not against drinking, not at all, if anything you’re all for it. there’s videos of you in groupchats shotgunning beer and finishing with barely any reaction – but tonight, you don’t know if you’re in the mood for it.
one won’t hurt, maybe it’ll erase danielle from your mind for a moment.
“fine.” you grab the small glass, then bring it to your lips and cock your head back, eyes pinching for a brief moment as you swallow. “shit,” you mumble, “give me another.”
you don’t know what has taken over, because you’re downing two more without hesitation. jimin laughs and smiles proudly at you.
for a brief moment, everything feels fine. the music blasting from inside the house, a mix of charli xcx and the chatter of your friends mocking one of your professors and jake, makes you laugh out loud. amidst the chaos, you find a beer in your hand, and somehow, you manage to tolerate the taste. wonyoung appears too, and hands you another after you quickly finish the first. you accept it, even though you're already starting to feel a bit fuzzy.
jimin looks at minjeong with a sparkle in her eyes, and you subtly push her a little closer until their shoulders touch. they exchange smiles, and you watch, feeling proud of your matchmaking. 
your heart sinks as it suddenly reminds you all too much of danielle. the fondness and spark between jimin and minjeong make you frown, your grip on the beer tightening as the bittersweet memories flood back.
“fuck,” you practically whisper. “i need to, i’m going to get more um, drinks.” 
“hm? okay.” jimin says quickly, then turns back to the girl she’s linking arms with.
your head pounds, so you gulp down the can of beer in your hand, then crumple it and toss it toward a trash bin in your line of sight. 
as you make your way to the kitchen, you spot a bottle of vodka and pour yourself a shot into a plastic cup you found. the liquid burns your throat, intensifying the ache in your head. despite this, you pour another shot, perhaps a bit too generously, hoping to numb the growing pain and the emotions clawing at your heart.
the room feels like it’s spinning, you’re walking down some hall and blinking and blinking until you reach a bathroom. thankfully, no one is making out in it, but you check the shower for safety measures. 
you’re finally alone, groaning as you fall against the wall of the bathroom and slide down until you’re sitting on the bathroom floor.
clumsily, you grab your phone from your back pocket. the screen lights up to a picture of you and danielle, cheeks squished together and smiling. 
you stare at it for too long, your breath hitching and your vision blurring as the ache in your head intensifies. the happy memory contrasts sharply with the heaviness you feel now, making it all the more difficult to look away. she just looks so cute in it.
you tap your screen again, and another picture of her appears. it’s a picture of her asleep in the passengers seat, head tilted uncomfortably and lips parted slightly. you had set up your lock screen to cycle through images of danielle, initially to fool sarah, but also because seeing danielle’s face as soon as you pick up your phone makes you feel at ease. each photo captures her different expressions—laughing, pouting, lost in thought—and they all make you grin. 
the happiness you feel is bittersweet, knowing it’s all part of an arrangement that feels increasingly real to you.
your vision is a little unclear, but somehow it sharpens just so you can see her perfectly.
“fuck,” you gasp out, unlocking your phone and trying to navigate to your recent calls. you had called hanni earlier and she had just been lounging at her place. you figure that she’d be able to take you away from here.
you squint, pressing on the contact that has a and n, assuming it’s hanni, then wait as the phone rings.
“hello?”
“hanni, i’m… can you pick me up?”
“y/n?” her voice is muffled when it reaches your ears, “are you okay? what happened, where are you?”
“jimin… dragged me out. i drank… soooo much.”
“y/n, oh my gosh.”
“hanni, stay on the line, please.”
“i’m not–” the voice cuts off, you drop your phone on the carpet. “hello?”
“you have my location… right.” you slur, head leaning against the wall even more. “hanni i can’t do it anymore.”
“y/n, i’m on my way. are you alright?”
“hanni, i can’t.” you groan, staring up into space. “i don’t want to fake date danielle anymore. it feels too real, i hate it.”
silence follows before you hear the voice on the other end of the phone.
“you can’t? why, why didn’t you tell her?”
“she seems happy, and… we just, don’t acknowledge that it’s not real.”
“y/n…” 
danielle sits in her car, heart sinking. 
you dialed her on accident, and it doesn't seem like you know it’s her. 
“please come. please.”
danielle gulps, feeling tears forming in her eyes. 
danielle scavenges through the house your location on her phone has brought you to, looking around for you helplessly. 
she makes her way to the porch and spots jimin, who’s hands are on minjeongs neck as she holds her in place. danielle walks over, not wanting to disturb the intimacy, but you’re her biggest priority, so she’s willing to do so.
“jimin,”
she turns around, looking at danielle confusingly. “oh, when did you get here?”
“where’s y/n?”
“hmmm… she went to get drinks a while ago, she hasn’t come back yet. try the kitchen?”
“okay, thank you.” danielle says hurriedly, then rushes back inside.
she checks the kitchen, only to see jake and sunghoon with beers in their hands as they cackle loudly. you’re nowhere in sight, making her bite her lip in frustration.
danielle goes through every room on the first floor until she reaches a bathroom. she pushes the door open, and it suddenly stops, hitting someone. a groan escapes from behind the door.
"i'm so sorry!" danielle rushes out, peeking around the door to see who she’s just collided with. "y/n?" she gasps, eyes widening in recognition and concern.
you’re sitting against the wall, hair tousled and cheeks red. there’s a white tank top hugging you, the thin straps of it loose against your skin from your posture. 
“hanni?” you look up, squinting. “i wanna go home.” 
you see the figure move closer to you and close the door, then she squats down and you realize it’s not hanni. danielle comes into view, her eyebrows creased with concern. your cheeks flush even harder, and your lips part.
she puts a hand on your forehead, then cups her cheeks with both. “are you okay?”
“you’re not… hanni.”
danielle’s shoulders fall down a bit. “hanni um,” danielle hates lying, but she’s doing it now to save you from spiraling. “she sent me over.”
“oh.” the response from you cracks her heart slightly. “okay.”
"let's go," she says firmly, helping you up. despite being taller and more muscular than her, you lean on her for support. danielle manages to steady you with surprising ease, guiding you out of the bathroom and through the house, her grip strong and unwavering.
you collapse onto danielle’s couch and groan, your body is limp against the cushions.
a few moments later, she comes back with a cup of water, placing it on the coffee table before she sits you up. she tilts your chin up and you look at her with wonder as she grabs the cup and holds it to your lips, “drink.”
“mhm.” you mumble, sipping slowly and swallowing. 
your vision clears slightly, though it might just be danielle who’s grounding you. her concerned eyes meet yours, and while guilt tugs at you, you're also captivated by her beauty in this moment. you're drunk and out of your mind, thoughts muddled and unfocused.
“pretty.” you sigh dreamily. 
“y/n,” her voice is laced with uneasiness. “drink more water.”
“okay.”
“and stay the night, okay? you um, left…” she swallows hard, fighting back a frown. “you left your clothes here, i’ll go grab them.”
“can you stay with me though? will you? i really… just… i want you here.” 
danielle bites the inside of her lip, her eyes wide with confusion. just moments ago, you had admitted that you wanted to stop the whole ‘relationship’—that it had become too intense, too overwhelming. and now, you’re asking her to stay? her mind spins with the jarring shift in emotions.
you lean in, clinging onto her. danielle feels the warmth of your breath and the softness of your nose brushing against her neck. the touch sends a shiver through her, and she swallows hard, struggling to steady her breathing. as you pull back, your faces are mere inches apart. you lock eyes with her, your gaze heavy with so much. 
there’s a lump in her throat. “okay.”
danielle wakes up with you on top of her and your head in the crook of her neck. she hears you breathing softly and subconsciously, her hand slides into your hair.
why are you so confusing? danielle wonders, twirling your hair with her pointer finger. is this what you really want?
you’re incredibly considerate, a trait that’s always shone brightly. the way you go out of your way for her—planning dates, cherishing every moment together, simply because it makes her happy—fills her with a bittersweet feeling. she adores these shared moments, savoring the illusion of authenticity. but now that it’s clear that all of it strains you, it weighs heavily on her heart.
you stir awake, your breath warm and rhythmic against danielle's skin. as you hum softly, her cheeks flush a delicate pink. she feels the gentle pressure of your arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. you shift, nestling deeper into her, finding a more comfortable position. each movement sends a shiver through danielle, leaving her heart fluttering like crazy at eight in the morning.
she doesn’t know what to do.
danielle doesn’t ask you out or come over the whole week, excusing herself by saying she’s busy or caught up with things. of course, you don’t comment on it – she’s not really your girlfriend, you shouldn’t expect her time and affection. 
but then another week passes by and you don’t get any texts back, sometimes she even leaves you on delivered for hours. that’s not like her at all. 
you catch her in class and she’s still the same danielle you know – bubbly, pretty, and sweet – but that’s really the only time you see her these days. 
it’s confusing, all too confusing, so you barge into hanni’s apartment on a thursday evening because she’s the only one you can rant to about this.
“you didn’t even text me–”
“oh my god i think danielle fucking hates me.”
hanni lets you storm in, walking towards her room and flop onto her own bed. you look devasted, especially when you rub your face in your hands and groan loudly.
“okay, first of all: why the hell would she? second of all: yeah, why… why would she…?”
“she’s been avoiding me and i have no fucking clue why.”
“dude what.” 
you recount the entire story to hanni, animatedly illustrating every detail with exaggerated hand gestures. “so, jimin practically dragged me out to unwind, and i ended up drunk out of my mind!” you say. your hands wave dramatically, punctuating the story as you describe stumbling around, the room spinning, and how the whole ordeal felt like a whirlwind. 
hanni watches, her amusement growing as you explain the night’s events. “jesus.”
“yeah, and then danielle came and picked me up.”
“she did?”
“yeah… you called her over… didn’t you?”
“dude, what are you talking about.”
you pause, looking at her with confusion evident all over your face. then grab your phone, heart feeling strained when you see danielle posing with a stuffed animal that one time – out of many –  you two went to the mall together. you click on the phone app, looking at your recent calls and scrolling down to roughly two weeks ago.
you see hanni’s contact name, and then danielles after.
“hanni, did i… did i call you that night? two weeks ago, the friday night i went out.”
“dude you only called me that morning or something, you left something here.”
“oh my fucking god.” you gasp, putting a hand over your mouth. “oh my god.”
“y/n what.”
“i drunk dialed dani and i thought it was you. she told me you sent her to grab me…”
“what did you say to her?” hanni asks, looking at you with slight worry.
you groan, rubbing your face again. “i… i said i didn’t want to fake date her anymore.”
“oh, well that’s not too bad.”
“no, i remember it somehow. i said i hated it.”
your best friend looks at you, confused again. “you do?”
“yeah, but like, no?” you groan once more and fall onto the bed again. “hanni, i’ve… i’ve liked danielle since first semester.”
“oh.”
“yeah, oh.”
“you’ve been fake dating and simultaneously in love with her?”
you sigh. “yes.”
“holy shit.”
“yeah. i think she took it the wrong way, maybe she thinks i hate her?”
“you need to talk to her.”
“she doesn’t want to see me.”
“no, she’s so fond of you. i honestly think she likes you back.”
“okay it’s not the time for that–”
“shut the hell up bro.” hanni pinches your cheek and you slap her hand away. she begins again, “dude, she rambles about you and shit. there were times i actually thought you guys were really dating.”
“i wish.”
“then make it come true!” hanni groans. she pulls you up, then puts both hands on your shoulder. “you need to go talk to her, stop being a pussy.” 
“it’s not that–” 
your phone vibrates in your hand, snapping you out of your animated retelling. instinctively, you glance down and see a notification from danielle. hanni notices the shift in your expression, quirking an eyebrow as you stare at the screen, looking visibly distressed. she leans closer, peeking at the notification.
as your face unlocks the phone, the text is revealed: "can you come over? we should talk." your mouth drops open slightly in shock, and hanni mirrors your expression. the room suddenly feels heavy.
“dude.” hanni points at the screen – the obvious. “she–”
“fuck me.” you mutter, “fuck me.”
“dumbass,” hanni says, pushing you off her bed. you curse and look at her with “what the fuck?” written all over your face. hanni stands up and continues to push you out her room, saying, “go see your ‘girlfriend,’ even if it’s not real you better go talk to mo dani.”
you sigh, pushing her off you and grabbing your things before you walk towards hanni’s apartment door. you stare at the handle, then the text, and linger for a moment. hanni puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at her.
“i’m fucking terrified.”
“well you’ll feel even worse if you don’t go, so go.” hanni urges, opening the door and nudging you out.
the air is cold, it’s really just cold outside and it makes you shiver more than you already are just from the thought of the interaction.
you’re outside danielle’s work, sitting on the steps because you can’t bring yourself to go in and approach her directly. maybe it makes you a coward, but you’ve always been nervous about seeing her willingly and making the first move. the minutes stretch on, each one making you more anxious, but you can't help it. the thought of facing her, of initiating that crucial conversation, ties your stomach in knots. she called you out here anyway.
wind hits your cheeks and you bite your lip, walking around in your place in an attempt to warm up. then, you catch someone in the corner of your eye, so you turn around and meet danielle.
a loose sweater drapes over her frame, and wide-fit linen pants hide the shape of her legs. the wind tousles her hair just as it does yours, but she looks effortlessly angelic, stopping your heart for a moment. her hair, caught in the breeze, frames her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, temporarily making you forget your worries.
then she’s walking toward you, and you remember why you’re here.
you swallow hard, body tensing. 
“thank’s for coming, i’m sorry i haven’t been.. um, able to spend time with you.” she looks nervous, her eyes avoiding yours and hands fiddling with each other. she stares at your necklace instead as she continues, “i’ve just… i wanted to talk to you about what we have.”
“right, i wanted to talk to you about it too.”
“oh,” danielle says quietly. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to be a burden. you called me instead of hanni the night you got drunk and i know how you feel about fake dating. i’m sorry that you had to do it with me and it caused you so much stress i just–”
your heart aches as you listen to her ramble, guilt evident in her voice for something that’s not her fault. you can't bear to hear her blame herself. your brows furrow with pity as you gently cut her off, “danielle, no, let me–”
“stop, i want to make myself clear. i want to explain a lot of things to you, you’re so lovely and sweet and you don’t deserve to be so stressed. it’s just, okay, wait.”
she pauses, breathing in, and looking at you with tears lining her eyes. your breath shakes looking at her like that, you can’t breathe or speak in the moment.
danielle purses her lips before continuing, “okay, when hanni first said you wanted to date me, i got so excited because well, i always thought you were cute.” she turns her head to the side and bites her lip before looking back at you. “and then you said it wasn’t an actual date, you wanted it to be fake. i don’t know i just, i felt really sad when it happened but at the same time the thought of fake dating you didn’t seem too bad because i’m selfish and i mean, i liked you a little and i thought i could just fake it and revel in the artificial aspect until i got over it but i ended up falling for you so much and i’m sorry. i don’t want you to think im anything like sarah–”
“danielle, stop.”
“no, y/n i just want to explain myself–”
“danielle, shut up, oh my god.” you gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “you, are you fucking with me?”
she looks at you, still feeling guilty. when she blinks, two tears fall down her cheeks and she inhales sharply as she conceals a sob. she turns away, then murmurs, “no, i’m so sorry.”
“n-no, no. dani, danielle.” you almost breathe it out, then bring both hands to hold her face. your hands cup her cheeks making her face you. “please stop crying, i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry.”
“b-baby?” she says, confusing taking over her features. you had gotten so used to calling her endearing pet names that it slipped out so suddenly in the heat of the moment.
the lights outside shine just enough for you to see her clearly. her eyes are watery, tears staining her cheeks, and you use your thumb to gently wipe them away. her nose is a little pink, and so are her cheeks. of course, she’s a pretty crier too, but you look at her with guilt, shaking your head as you continue to stroke her cheeks with your thumb. the sight of her like this breaks your heart even more.
“i only said i hated it because it was all too real, but not in a bad way. not at all.” 
“really?” she says between sniffles. “w-what do you mean?”
“i’m saying that,” you use your thumb to rub a tear threatening to fall from the corner of her eye. “i hated it because i couldn’t take the fact that it wasn’t real. i wanted it to be real. danielle, i’ve wanted to be yours since you first gave me the notes from the first lecture we had together.”
“what?”
“danielle,” you almost whisper, then kiss her forehead. “i like you so much. i don’t hate you, or this – i hate that it’s not real.”
her mouth opens in shock as she looks at you, sniffling. you anxiously wait for a response, hoping she'll say something, but she doesn’t. instead, she hugs you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. you return the embrace, holding her just as tight. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in the nerveracking moment.
“i like you too – a lot. i was so scared when you said you hated it, i thought i was making you uncomfortable and gosh i just felt so bad and–”
you rub her back with your hand and cut her off, “i was anything but uncomfortable, i felt like i was living in a fantasy.”
“thank god.” danielle sighs in relief. 
you pull away, looking at her again and wiping remnants of tears with your thumb again. “i’m sorry for making you cry.”
if you could go back and punch yourself for being stupid — you’d do it in a heartbeat. a dumb slip up and miscommunication from your lips is the reason danielle’s nose is still tinted pink from crying, you feel guilty as ever.
in your hands, it feels like you hold the world. she shakes her head in your hold, then smiles from relief.
“it’s okay.”
“are you busy after this?”
danielle giggles, shaking her head again. “if you’re asking me out on a date – a real one – then absolutely not.”
“dinner? it’s on me for being stupid that night, and this whole time.”
“perfect.”
you smile sweetly at her, your gaze lingering on her lips. before you know it, you lean in and boldly peck her right then and there. she gasps when you pull away, looking at you with widened eyes as you back off. but then, she reels you in again, leaning closer and kissing you once more. the kiss is soft and warm, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that have built up between you. you feel her smile against your lips, and everything else fades away.
when you part again, you look at her fondly and ask, “wait, this is real, right? like, we’re…”
danielle laughs, hastily pecking you once more and lingering close.
“i don’t think it’s the alcohol that made you so dense and stupid.”
796 notes · View notes
jeanbie · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
FANTASIZE ★ masterlist.
pairing: jake x reader
warnings: explicit sexual content, fem!human!reader, semi-public sex, piv sex, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, breeding kink, cumming inside, glowy cum | wc: 16k | ♬
note: i've been promoted to: avatar writer. my first time writing for it (def not my last!) lemme know what u think ;-) also his smirk in the header....GET INSIDE ME
★ ⏤ fantasize | all the time (if you were mine)
⏤ It's official - Jake is sick and tired of Norm giving him shit. While he can't claim to know as much about Pandora as Norm does, there's still a few things Jake can afford to do to piss him off even more for the fun of it, and it just so happens that Norm's sister works as a scientist in the lab - which to Jake spells perfect revenge in its simplest form.
Tumblr media
It’s official — Jake has had enough of Norm’s bitching and whining.
For the last two months, Jake has endured a lot, more than he ever asked for or wanted; whether it was Neytiri on his ass about becoming an Omatikaya and never missing a single beat of training for it, Grace nagging him about video logs, or even Norm giving him so much shit over every single thing he didn’t spend three years learning in simulations and classrooms — he’s sat and listened to all of it without complaint. 
Jake has never once fought back, never once raised his own grievances about how tedious and time-consuming everything actually is on one man’s shoulders, and yet it all keeps coming.
The worst thing is that he can understand all of it to an extent. There’s a necessary need for attentiveness when learning the ways of the Omatikaya, and the longer it takes, the worse his chances get with the rest of the clan. The video logs? They’re not that important, Jake thinks, but it keeps Grace off his back for the small kernel of time he actually spends in the real world and not inside of his avatar. 
But with Norm, Jake can’t seem to understand what is actually bothering him enough to be so goddamn bitter about every little thing.
Of course, he’ll never fit into Tom’s shoes, not in the way everybody expects him to. He didn’t spend three years of his life learning how to control an avatar or how to function on Pandora — every day is quite literally a learning experience, a practical education that neither a lab nor a stuck up prick like Norm can teach. 
And, while he’s on the subject, Jake actually thought Norm would be a decent ally, at least until he almost died and got saved — with reluctance — by the daughter of the Olo’eyktan and somehow ended up being thrust into learning their way of life. 
Nobody seems to remember the giant part of the story concerning how he almost got devoured by an oversized dog in the process.
Instead, Norm wants to bitch about how Jake knows nothing, and treats him like a genuine idiot. Jake might be a few years short of being educated on the Na’vi, but he’s not stupid. He can still do stuff, stuff that Norm can’t; but reasoning with the man is like trying to convince the Na’vi that the Sky People are actually friends and not foes, and it’s pretty obvious that that’s never going to happen.
When Norm begins his daily ritual of berating Jake on his lack-of knowledge regarding the Hallelujah Mountains that surround their shitty little containment, Jake’s willing to sit through it and take it like a champion. 
Norm starts weaving his conspiracies to the cluster of scientists about how Jake is a terrible candidate for joining the Omatikaya clan and that all he cares about is sucking up to the Chief’s daughter — not true, by the way, for Neytiri can only stomach being near Jake because she has to and on rare occasions, he can do something absurdly dumb to make her laugh — and Jake begins to mentally tap out of the debate, rolling his eyes to the side and sighing as he watches you duck your head through a low archway with a bowl of slop in your hands.
Jake watches you for around three seconds before the lightbulb flickers alight above his head.
And then he grins.
It’s hard to believe that you and Norm are related — Jake can’t find any similarities between the two of you. You’re incredibly compassionate and communicative, never letting Jake suffer in his silent struggle of stupidity, and not to mention you’re incredibly beautiful; whereas Norm is just… Norm. A bitter, angry, red-faced man who does a piss poor job at hiding his insatiable jealousy of how wasting your life in a classroom or behind a book actually means very little in the grand scheme of achieving your goals. 
Example A: Jake of the Jarhead clan, ex-military, future Omatikaya. Cross-reference to Norm: sad loser. Jake signs his name on the mental essay he’s compiling as Norm drones on about culture and ignorance and narrows his gaze on you as you close in on the group.
Jake’s actually always liked you. You’re a no nonsense kind of woman who loves science and the Na’vi, and, unlike your brother, you actually treat him like an equal. Even now, as you slip next to him and lean back against the low metal work-surface, you meet Jake’s gaze with an eye-roll and smile, and his grin only widens from it.
Oh, how he loves that you like him. Although you spend so much time engrossed in your work and documenting on paper whatever Jake recites from his daily activities within the clan, Jake happens to know that you like him, and in hindsight, it’s never been a secret. For the first time, Jake lets himself consider the possibility of that being just another reason for Norm to suddenly despise him, but the idea warms his stomach rather than churns it.
“I can totally see Jake ruining all of our chances at building bridges by just burning them all together,” Norm huffs, folding his arms and wrangling a dirty glare in his direction. Jake welcomes it with the same smile that’s been blooming over his face for the past two minutes, which worsens Norm’s mood. 
“I don’t see you building any bridges, either,” you say to Norm. “Jake’s been more valuable to this program than you have as of late.”
Norm bristles. “One of us has actually been doing research while the other is trying to seduce an Olo’eyktan’s daughter—”
“Jake’s doing field research, Norm,” Grace says, her eyes still glued to her microscope. “And he knows better than to seduce anybody when we haven’t properly studied the relations between Na’vi and avatars yet. And there are bigger issues at stake right now.”
“I can get results on that if you want me to,” Jake offers.
“No, Jake.”
Jake shrugs. While Norm continues his tirade against Jake’s rather noble endeavours with the Omatikaya, he turns his gaze back towards you and lets his mental clogs turn.
At this point, Jake thinks that even if you agreed with some of Norm’s points, it wouldn’t make any difference. There is absolutely nothing he can do to please Norm, and so maybe he should just stop trying. Then again… There’s something hideously funny in how worked up Norm gets when somebody jumps to his defence, particularly you.
And considering most of Norm’s insecurities come from seeds he planted all by himself without any concrete evidence to support most of the points, Jake knows that anything he does from here on out will drive Norm into a slow burning insanity.
“Is it because I’m in a wheelchair?” Jake asks suddenly.
Norm huffs. “Of course not. It’s because you don’t take any of this seriously. Everything is a game to you. All of us here have spent years building up to this assignment while you read a manual and called it a day.”
“What? I’m serious. I’m one of the best avatar drivers here,” Jake says smugly. Grace finally looks over with an irate look — something tells him he wasn’t supposed to tell everyone that she had told him that. 
Norm’s face turns a whole new shade of pink. 
“I’m also a quick learner. The Omatikaya are trusting me more and more each day, so while I go out there and find out valuable field research for this program—” Jake looks at you with a deliberately sweet look and you laugh quietly, “—you can stay here and look at plants and mud and cells.”
“You probably don’t even know what a cell is.”
“Sure I do. Where they lock up all the bad guys.”
Norm opens his mouth to say something more, probably missing the joke like he does every time, but this time Grace swirls in her chair and sighs loudly, looking between the two of them like they were children.
“Alright, ladies, you’ve measured your dicks at equal length. You’re both doing good work around here, so Norm, why don’t you just let Jake go back to doing his work with the Omatikaya and you can just get some rest. Jesus, you’re both making everyone miserable, it’s affecting my work ethic…”
“Yeah, sweet dreams, Norm,” Jake calls, and Norm gives him a filthy scowl before snatching his things up off the desk, holding them secretively to his chest as he stomps towards the back room lined with their bunks. 
Jake feels the dark and evil energy follow him out the room and then he finally looks around the lab in disbelief. 
“Jake, go, you’ll be late, don’t keep Neytiri waiting,” Grace reminds him, switching off the bulb to the microscope and stretching her arms as Trudy claps her hands and silently announces her retirement to the bunks after Norm. “Don’t forget to make a log when you get back. Don’t let him forget, will you, Spellman?”
Grace looks at you with a look that suggests no room for negotiation. It was an order. She collects her things, claps Jake on the shoulder and grabs a cigarette from the net by the archway and takes it with her towards her separated bedroom. 
When the door to her little cubicle rattles shut, Jake shakes his head with a quiet laugh and rolls himself forward, giving you room to assemble your own work station where he had just been.
“Staying up late tonight?” he asks you, taking a swig of water before pushing one of the buttons to the link unit, waiting as it whirs to life.
You settle your stuff down and walk towards him. “Yep. I actually do have some work on cells to finish up.”
Jake’s lips quirk. “Not your usual ballpark, is it?”
“No, but there’s not really a surplus of Na’vi around here to communicate with,” you say in reply, rummaging with the unit to help Jake into the gel pack mattress. Usually he dismisses the help, but when it’s you helping him get comfy, then he’ll stomach his pride and accept your kindness. He’s surprisingly light, as normal, and you frown. 
“Don’t forget about the real world, Jake, you gotta take care of yourself.”
“Don’t worry, I got this,” he assures you. “You need anything while I’m out?”
Another thing that will shave a few years off Norm’s life — Jake bringing you things, extraordinary and otherwise unattainable when stranded in the mountains things for you to study and report. You hum thoughtfully at the offer, pushing his head down softly when he wriggles restlessly, a little to eager to get to whatever he’s doing in the forest tonight.
“If you happen to cross paths with a tsawksyul, a simple cutting would be appreciated,” you tell him, opting for something a little more simple than normal, considering Jake’s busy these days training. “If you don’t forget while you’re busy seducing daughters, of course.”
Jake’s grin returns, if not out of genuine amusement then just to see you smile in return and do the little head-tilt thing that Jake’s discovered he adores.
“Not my thing. More into scientists,” he tells you, watching in the final moments before you shut him in the pod at how you shake your head and turn yourself away from him.
There was no rejection. No refusal. Just a smile.
A smile that sets his plan into motion.
Tumblr media
No wonder Norm is always in a terrible mood. You find that his notes on the cells found in the mossy undergrowth of the forest is as chaotic as it can possibly be, which has left you using Grace’s Bible on Pandora botany as a guide and squinting to find the connections between his barely legible notes.
It’s basic knowledge that when cells die and a genetic material begins to unfold, a charge of energy is released; this concept has been the fundamental structural point to Norm’s notes on the moss and how each step at night causes a ricochet of expanding light, but there has to be something more than everybody is missing. Even in Grace’s book, there’s not enough information regarding how it works; if it’s connected to Eywa, if it is a response to another organism, whether it breathes and lives as its own entity.
Alongside Norm’s notes, you very sparingly begin to make an analysis of the communicative features of Pandora plant life, and begin jotting a vocabulary to use in a later research assignment, when a sudden knock against the glass above your head makes you jump quite literally up and out of your seat.
The Hallelujah Mountains are so isolated from the rest of the human population on Pandora and used rarely by the Na’vi during the night, but you distinctly make out Jake’s looming form standing outside with a smile on his face and relax. His skin is a bioluminescent explosion of colour, and for a moment you’re struck dumb staring at him until he waves his hand as if beckoning you outside.
You throw a cautious look over your shoulder, but the lab is silent and still. With that in mind, you reach for one of the exo-packs and shrug on your cardigan hanging on the back of the chair you were just on and hesitantly begin to make your way outside.
Very sparingly have you been outside of Site 26 to explore, and never once on your own. Grace has drilled into you the strict importance of respecting the laboratory rules and curfew, and if you’re going to wander outside after hours in the name of research, then please, wake her up too. 
But you won’t be alone out there, not when Jake is waiting for you outside.
Jake drops to a squat in anticipation when the airlock doors to the lab force open with a wheezy breath, and he sees you cautiously step out and secure a button on your cardigan in place. The gesture almost makes him croon. He rarely sees you at night since he’s learned the value of getting rest in between his adventures in his avatar, but now he can’t believe what he’s been missing out on seeing past his bedtime.
You look tired, your hair out of place and messy, but he recognises your attempt to look more alert when you step towards him with a slight bounce.
“Hey, tìyawn,” he calls to you, as you stare up at him even whilst drawing near. Thanks to the crouch, you’re about eye-to-eye, and he watches your expression widen with wonder as you map out the illustrations of light across his nose and cheeks, before sweeping to his forehead, then his neck, and then his bare chest.
“Hey, yourself,” you laugh, finding his eyes again as they glow in the low light. The Pandora skies are littered with stars and balls of unimaginable white light, but even the surrounding forest gathering around the lab to protect it from the harsh dropping winds of the mountains are pulsing with purple light, every single shrub and leaf and plant glowing with life.
Jake stares at you for a moment before producing a gift from behind his leg. You take it from him with a wide and gasping smile.
“No way!”
“Way,” Jake says, watching you handle the flower with so much care that one might assume it would break with your touch. With the way Jake was swinging it around on his way up here, he’s actually shocked that it’s still in one piece, but something in the way you respond to everything Jake does or brings tells him that even if he’d brought a portion of it, you’d be just as pleased.
“Thanks,” you say, turning slightly as you tell him you’re going to put the tsawksyul in the lab for safe-keeping. But Jake reaches his arm out to trap you from leaving, cocking his head to the side with a soft smirk when you round back on him curiously.
“It’s not gonna die if you leave it out here, it’s a flower,” Jake tells you, jerking his head in another direction. “Wanna look around with me?”
You pause, and he can tell you’re genuinely conflicted. Grace said not to leave the vicinity under any circumstances out of respect for the Na’vi and the lab rules. But she also said not to go outside without her, and here you are.
“Grace will be mad if she finds out I’m gone,” you tell him slowly.
“Probably.”
“And Norm.”
Jake feels a rush of something at the mere mention of your brother, and his tail swishes against the rocks behind him. 
Jake leans closer to you. “Well, him I don’t care about.”
Mindful of the plant in your hand, you gently push Jake’s chest back until he rolls on his heels, unable to fight the smile on your own face.
“…Where will we be going? I can’t go far just in case Grace wakes up and comes looking for me.”
Jake tilts his head up to the sky and to the top of the mountain peak that houses the lab. From his own experience scouting up there, Jake knows there’s a small incubation of trees that offers a compelling view of the entire mountain range, as well as offering a minor collection of plants he thinks you’ll die over once you see.
But that just wouldn’t be as evil as what he originally had planned. He then rolls his head towards the small section of trees that border the back of the lab, close to where the bunks are, and he then looks back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“We’ll stay close,” Jake promises. 
You hesitate once again and guiltily look at the lab. It’s not like it’s going anywhere…
“Alright,” you sigh, looking back at Jake and watching his smile widen as if he’s just obtained a great victory. There’s no room in your stomach for suspicion to grow — it’s overrun with butterflies when Jake points his head in the direction of the snug tree line and holds out his finger for you. 
You stifle a laugh and reach to hold it, setting the tsawksyul on the ground tucked under the same window he just scared you from and join him on the slow walk to wherever he means to take you.
Being with Jake has always felt easy, but being with Jake’s avatar is practically uncharted territory. It’s a struggle to remember that it is actually the same man you like so badly back in the lab, the same guy who deliberately rams your ankles with his wheelchair just to watch the way you catch yourself as you fall, the same guy who you think uses you as a factor to piss off your brother but in a way that you find strangely attractive. 
Now, he’s an almost ten foot Na’vi leading you in the whimsical dark towards a cluster of trees, and you don’t know how to begin separating the feelings you have for Jake from the feeling of nerves you feel around his alter ego.
You can barely make out Jake’s face all the way above your head, not until he feels your stare and looks down at you beside him. There’s a similarity in his human expressions with his Na’vi ones, which is fortunate considering there was a time where you thought the avatar looked more like Tom than it did Jake. Now that they’re one in the same, and now that Jake is in front of you in his avatar form and the feelings you have for him are still lingering, you’re beginning to accept the likeness between the two of them. 
“What did you do today?” you ask him, referring to his ritualistic training with Neytiri.
Jake hums thoughtfully. “Nothing compared to Norm, I’m sure.”
At that, you laugh. “I’m seriously asking, Jake.”
“Alright… Neytiri has me reading the signals of the forest whenever we go hunting,” he explains sparingly, seeming not in the mood to talk training now that you’ve reached the lay of forest near the back of the lab. He surveys the setting and the space between the lab and the fringe of leaves and bushes and nods, as if satisfied but then pulls you deeper into the thrush of leaves.
“She says everything’s connected,” he continues. “She also says I’m a terrible shooter.”
“You’re missing your shots?” you tease. Jake turns back to you with a grin that you honestly walked into when you asked.
“Not all of ‘em.”
After the short walk, Jake is finally satisfied with the burrow of bushes and rocks that outline the small selection of forest behind the lab, and he looks up to once again gauge the distance and is pleased when the lab doesn’t look too far away. Jake hears you rustle and sit on one of the low rocks with your knees to your chest, and then drops to his usual squat in front of you, arms rested on his knees, gently fiddling with his fingers.
“How’re your cells?” he asks, but you’re so busy gazing at the forest around you and the stars above your heads that he fears you’re not even listening. Jake instead settles for watching you.
He knows he’s in over in his head when even his avatar likes you. Jake’s had nowhere near as much experience navigating his way around how to use this body than the other drivers, let alone time to understand the signals his body sends him or the feelings different things have to him, but he can tell the difference between being you friendly and not, even when he’s not totally familiar with how it all works. And on top of that, there are so many random variables to being Na’vi to get his head around that he never even thought of until Neytiri or Grace filled him in on what the hell was going on with his body at certain times of the month.
He’s stupid sometimes, true, but not totally naive. Jake recognises the tug in his chest as he looks at you — he feels the same thing when he’s in his human body. He’s no expert on Na’vi, never claimed to be, but he feels there must be something instinctive in the way he feels for you and the way his avatar senses it. And with Norm’s fresh-faced hatred in full flush whenever Jake makes that fact known, he’s not at all surprised that those feelings have suddenly become so full frontal now that he’s had enough of Norm’s bullshit.
“It’s amazing out here,” you say, to Jake but also to the wind as you completely crane your head up to look through the cracks in the branches and leaves. “Don’t you ever wish Earth had looked like this?”
“I haven’t really thought about Earth since I left,” he confesses, shuffling closer to you while you’re occupied with mapping out the stars in the sky.
“Not once?” You look down at him. If you’re taken aback by the sudden closeness between you, you hide it well. 
Jake shrugs. “Nothing I need is there.”
Fair enough. You stare at him for a moment and think about that before agreeing. 
“Me too.”
The branches above your heads sway in a gentle breeze and Jake watches you hug your cardigan around yourself before asking, “So, why’re we here? Did you wanna show me something?”
“What, the stars not enough for you?” Jake looks up to the sky.
You laugh quietly. “I’ll never get enough of them, actually. Beats the lab ceiling by a long shot. Looking at the stars through the window’s not the same… I wish I didn’t have to use this mask—” You throw him a playfully exasperated look, “—I wish I had an avatar.”
“Why don’t you?” Jake’s never asked, never thought to ask. But you’re the only scientist in his close collective of scientist ‘friends’ who doesn’t actually drive an avatar, and is instead limited to just studying everyone else's.
“It was never really my thing,” you explain, settling comfortably atop the rock and throwing the glances to the sky away to focus on him. Like the lab, they’re not going anywhere, and the ones tattooing Jake’s skin are far more interesting. “Okay, that’s a lie. I think the avatars are fascinating, just like the Na’vi, but sometimes you take what you’re given when you’re given it. Norm has always had to be better than I am, always one step ahead. Plus, our inheritance only stretched as far as to cover the contract costs of one avatar driver.” You laugh, “And Norm’s older.”
“Damn, so we just got stuck with Norm,” Jake comments, only to make you laugh again, which thankfully works. “I’d have a better time out here if it were you and not him.”
“He’s actually very insecure about that,” you tell him, watching his amusement grow without knowing the exact reasons for why. “He always goes on about how your avatar is much more built. I guess Tom was just more athletic and the avatar reflects it, I don’t think Norm’s used so much as an elliptical since high school… Anyway, he’s very vocal on how unfair the avatar program is in that regard.”
“You agree with him?”
Jake’s fingers ghost across your ankle.
“One: he’s my brother, and I’m not going to answer that question honestly. And two: let’s not forget who the avatar is modelled off. Tom was very handsome.”
“Growing up, I was always the pretty twin.”
You hum. “I couldn’t tell.”
Jake’s never ever considered the fact of you knowing his brother well before he died. He’s never had to think about it before, not until now, but he pushes the thought away and falls back into the thoughts of what he came here to do in the first place.
“You don’t think I’m handsome?”
He watches your grin widen. “I didn’t say that, did I?”
Jake creeps forward slightly, and this time you notice, moving your toes back further towards your bum on the rock while Jake continues his close creeping. 
“I think you’re a very pretty woman,” Jake murmurs. “Beautiful, even.”
“Norm’s not here to get mad at you for saying that,” you remind him.
“‘m not saying it for Norm to hear.”
You feel Jake’s hand sliding to wrap around your ankle and you shudder when he smooths his way up to your calf. You’ve never interacted with any Na’vi like this before, never felt their skin pushing against your own. With a glance down at his hand, you frown and work your way back up to his face, his eyes lit up in the dark.
“It’s not fair that you’re using your avatar against me right now,” you mutter, making him laugh through his nose and bring his body closer to the round edge of the rock. He considers it progress when you remain rooted in place once his hands run up the length of your legs to your waist.
You watch his nostrils flare slightly as he observes you, which only makes you feel more nervous and trapped here.
“All I’m doing is talking,” says Jake.
You scoff at him. “Does all your talking involve hands on the waist, Sully?”
He shrugs. “Only with really pretty people.”
Jake’s ears prick when you sigh and look back up at the stars. He doesn’t move his hands, but he senses your body tensing beneath his touch, smells the change in your body as he speaks. He’d love that part of being Na’vi a lot more if he knew what those changes meant exactly, and he can’t figure it out even as he stares at you intently.
His thumbs smooth from left to right, feeling the nub of your ribcage with every stroke over your tank top and tries to level his face into one of absolute neutrality when you look back down at him. 
“What are you doing, Jake?”
Not what he was expecting you to say, if he’s being honest.
“Nothing,” he says.
“You’re being weird,” you reply, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. It has the opposite effect, and you watch him struggle not to smile. His hairline raises when his brows do, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes when you figure him out, “Did you actually bring me out here just to flirt with me?”
He does nothing except look at you, as if the answer is painfully obvious and you’re stupid for not realising it sooner.
You sigh loudly. “Jake, I’m sorry that you didn’t get the memo like everybody else, but you didn’t need to lure me out the lab in your avatar if you wanted to get my attention.”
His thumb continues to move and his eyes drop slightly.
“I wouldn’t say I lured you out here,” Jake replies. You watch his eyes zero back in on yours and you fight your body against the urge to wrap up and hide from him. 
“You can’t be that stupid, I refuse to believe it,” you laugh disbelievingly, which makes him raise his brows questioningly. Even with a layer of plastic obstructing your face from his, Jake can’t get over how pretty you look. “You have to know that I like you even when you’re not a big blue alien.”
Jake’s grin widens, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I know. You’re really bad at hiding it.”
“Okay,” you say, feeling under your cardigan for his hands and attempting to wrestle them away, but he doesn’t budge. You laugh again, as if the whole thing is genuinely funny for you, “then you can always make your thoughts about that known when I see you in the lab. In person.”
“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t in there if I had the chance,” Jake tells you, moving his hands but only to sandwich them between your tank and your skin. The feeling of his palms flat against your stomach makes you jump slightly and reach for his wrist. 
“Please. I see you every single day.”
“Yeah, and your brother, and Grace, and Trudy,” Jake points out. “I can’t get a second alone with you. What would you have me do, make a move with your brother breathing down my neck about it?”
“You could just be upfront. Save me from looking like an idiot.”
“Come on, baby, let’s be real.”
The smile he has on his face is unmoving, and you search every corner of it to find signs of his sincerity falling and find nothing. But something feels wrong.
You’ve spent close to two months in the long shadow drawn by everything else in Jake’s life, and considering Jake’s newfound role of future Omatikaya warrior, you feel that the time he spends in your company has become less and less. So now that Jake has decided to pick up on whatever signals you were sending him and respond to them, you assume it’s all in the name of good fun to piss off Norm.
Feeling Jake’s hands creeping up your body in the middle of the Hallelujah Mountains and with no older brother here to glare at either of you, you’re rethinking everything you thought you had figured out.
“I don’t get it,” you say finally. 
Jake just laughs quietly. “You thought I just rammed my wheelchair into your feet for fun?”
“You mean to tell me that was your way of showing interest?” you ask unconvincingly.
“…Nah. I liked watching you fall, though,” he grins. Jake picks himself up from his squat and looms over you like a shadow, watching you fall back onto your forearms as you stare up at him. He sets one knee between your legs and leans down slightly, breathing in deeply in a way that has you thinking he’s actually sniffing the air around you. 
“Honey, I’m all kinds of obsessed with you.”
You blink. “You certainly gave nothing away.”
“I bring you shit all the time.”
“I’m a scientist, I didn’t know you did that because you liked me. I thought it was just because I wanted better samples than Norm.”
“I mean, that definitely helped motivate me to find everything.”
“You never even told me you liked me.”
“Well, I’m telling you now.”
“Okay, well, tell me tomorrow when you’re awake and not all…big,” you frown. 
Jake chuckles. “You don’t like me now, or something?”
“I definitely never said that. I just want to hear human Jake Sully tell me how he feels without using his avatar to try and win me over.” 
Jake’s tail swishes behind him. “You prefer the dummy in the wheelchair?”
“I like your wheelchair,” you tell him quietly, running your hand up his arm as he pins you flat against the boulder with a hand on your stomach. 
“I don’t,” he murmurs. “I like being like this. I like being bigger than you. I like smelling how much you like me.”
All of a sudden, your legs swing shut around him and you look at him in disbelief.
“Freak.”
All he does is smile. 
“Come on, Jake, I actually don’t have time for this,” you say around a groan, trying to move against him but failing miserably. An exasperated smile falls on your face. “Really? What are you even trying to achieve? You’re seducing me with your avatar?”
His ears twitch and he angles his head to the side. “Yes?”
“Why am I getting the impression that all of this has something to do with Norm somehow?” you sigh in reply, but Jake notices the way you fall relaxed underneath him, and he has the feeling you’re in no real hurry to get anywhere else tonight. 
“Well, it might have something to do with it,” Jake confesses, his voice lower than it was before as he draws his nose close to you and takes a deep inhale. The feeling of his braid flicking down from his back and brushing against your thighs makes you shudder, not to mention the feeling of his snout against your collarbones. “Really, I just want to spend some time with my girl while I got the chance to.”
Whatever you want to say or have planned to say dies away when you feel Jake’s lips wander and press against your sternum. 
Sighing, you shift your hands to his arms that have you pinned down and carefully squeeze. “Good luck with that, Sully.”
He runs his tongue flat against your skin and hears you exhale through your nose, a noise of satisfaction muffled by your closed mouth, and all at once, Jake’s decision is final.
He is going to fuck Norm’s sister. 
And he’s going to rub salt on Norm’s wounds by doing it in the way that will piss him off the most.
Jake kisses his way down the length of your body, his hands moving around your figure like a sculptor until his hands find their way to your thighs. Though oversized and covering most of them, Jake’s hands circle around the width of your thighs and he strokes his thumbs across the inside skin of them, all while laughter bubbles in your chest.
All of this is just so absurd. If someone had told you this morning that Jake so much as liked you back, it would have taken some convincing, but if they had gone as far as to suggest he’s be attempting to seduce you in his avatar in a little chunk of forest behind the lab you pretty much live in, you would have laughed at the delusion of the thought. But now, there’s no denying the very tangible view of Jake’s Na’vi hands pressing down on your thighs, his eyes staring up over the slope of your body as you pick your head up to look down at him.
“This is crazy,” you gasp.
Jake’s teeth reveal themselves against the stretch of skin he was just pressing kisses onto, his smile widening as he speaks. “You don’t want to, baby?”
You weigh your options. It’s either leave and go back to the lab and hope that Jake follows through on his apparent feelings for you in the morning… Or you can relax and enjoy.
“Jake…” You pause for a moment. You want to enjoy it, and you feel the pool of desire deepen inside of you and know it’s a sensation Jake can most likely smell. 
He’s still your Jake, still the same guy you dote over when he remembers he has a life outside of being Na’vi. The only difference now is that he’s blue, and mobile, and double your size in every definition of the word. And suspiciously attractive, but you don’t know for certain if you think that because it’s Jake or because it’s actually true as a fact. But you just can’t help but wonder if Jake’s climaxing feud with Norm is the only reason he’s pinning you to a boulder in the forest and kissing your stomach. 
“You’re not just doing this to piss off Norm, are you?” you ask, feeling serious all of a sudden. The only way you know Jake notices is from the way his ears flatten against his head and his eyes grow round with concern. 
In the light, his tail flicks from side to side in the way you recognise most Na’vi do when they’re nervous, and you fight the urge to look away from him when he stays quiet for a second, thinking of what to say in a loud silence.
Of course he’s doing this because he knows it will piss Norm off if and when he finds out. As soon as Norm catches a stinking whiff of Jake on your body when he’s in his own avatar surveying the mountains, there will be nowhere for Jake to run or roll off to and avoid Norm’s volcanic rage. But he knows as well that this is a long time coming — that he’s been chasing circles around your feet for the fun of it, and now the chance has come for him to bring what he’s buried to the surface and shape it into something more.
Jake very carefully thinks of what to say. “Knowing that if I fuck you right now it will piss off your insanely annoying brother makes me want to do it more. But if the only reason I was fucking you was to piss him off, then I’d be doing it in front of him.”
Your brows raise. 
“Okay, that came out wrong,” Jake says quickly. “My point is… I go crazy thinking about you. And everything I think about doing to you can be made possible when I’m, as you said, all big.”
“But… Norm—”
Jake groans, all smiles. “Oh my god, can we please stop bringing up your brother for a sec? It’s a huge turn off.”
“It doesn’t make me feel any sexier, either,” you point out, “but I’m just thinking—”
“Don’t think,” Jake tells you. “This is the one time you don’t have to think about anything at all except for how you’d like me to take care of you.”
Jake returns his face to your stomach as you blink furiously, a flustered feeling creeping up over your body at the bluntness of his words. If you thought he was playing around, you’re officially convinced when his hands tighten around your thighs and he spreads them apart, pinning them down against the boulder he’s made your bed for the night. You inhale a deep breath when Jake’s thumbs dip underneath your shorts, bunched around your inner thighs.
“I suppose it would be like killing two birds with one stone…”
Jake laughs against your skin. “Jesus Christ, Spellman, quit talking so much. Who knew you were such a yapper?”
“Am not,” you protest.
You shudder when he plants another kiss on your abdomen, pings the fabric of your shorts back against your skin with a sharp sting and he grunts with a nod.
“Okay,” Jake agrees, his ears high and tail swishing playfully. “Now take off your cardigan.”
Still watching Jake on your forearms as he hooks his fingers around the waistline of your shorts in an effort to pull them down, you wrangle a sigh of protest and lift your lower body up for him, all whilst reaching for the buttons on the front of your cardigan. 
You breathe heavily as you mumble, “Do you really need to take off all my clothes, Sully?”
“One of us is halfway there, honey, and it’s not you,” replies Jake. His golden eyes watch with intent as he pulls the shorts down the expanse of your legs with your underwear in tow. As you shudder with the breeze fanning between your legs, Jake takes a big inhale and stares.
He barely moves an inch once the shorts and panties are in a bunch around your feet, but you busy yourself by sweeping a look at Jake’s own attire, or striking lack of. Between his legs hangs his tewng, a simple and sparsely intricate item of clothing that leaves little to imagination when it comes to what is growing between his thighs. 
It’s standard attire for the Omatikaya, but you’ve never seen it up close, and never on Jake himself. It hits you then that he’s still in his entire hunting gear, as if he finished up with Neytiri and brought himself here right away.
Jake’s thighs clench as he finally moves, readjusting his footing in his dropped squat; to him, this position has become as natural as breathing, but you stare at his thighs bulging and wonder how he’s not in agony from it alone.
Jake looks up at you after his allocated time spent analysing the spot growing wet between your legs and you gulp, feeling almost nervous. 
“Well, you’re gonna be an Omatikaya soon. One of the consequences is wearing your little g-string everywhere.”
His head leans to the side as his amusement grows. “It’s called a tewng, genius.”
That makes you laugh, and say in a melodic and sweet tone, “I know.”
But Jake bites back with the same sweet tone as you and says, “Then shut up,” and you comply. It’s the least you can do for him when he smooths his big hands back between your legs and up close to your cunt.
Pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, Jake inches his hands further, relishing in a deep breath as he returns to staring at the spot just inches from his fingers. From his perspective, you are hideously tiny; given the obvious lack of research on Na’vi and human sexual relations, Jake isn’t totally sure you’ll be able to withstand what he wants to give you.
Worth a try, though.
Jake’s chest rises and falls as he stares in wonder at your pussy, the scent divinely pronounced, and he runs one of his fingers between your folds and up, collecting the juices on his finger as he rounds your clit in a rather observational manner. 
You bristle, your legs instinctively trying to close — all the good it does, as Jake pushes them back open. His eyes flicker back up to yours, as if assessing his next steps, before he lowers his mouth to your cunt and without doing you the kind service of looking away, stares at you as he spreads his tongue flat between your folds.
His actions earn him a strangled moan of pleasure, and his ears twitch in satisfaction. The feeling of his tongue against you is strangely addicting, rough and soft at the same time, warm and wet and enough for your hips to lift. 
“Jake…” You gasp, feeling your eyes close, half with the pleasure of it all and also sheer embarrassment. 
Like a predator watching its prey, Jake never looks away from your face and the way it twists, your jaw hanging open as he licks your cunt. With the size of his head alone, his tongue virtually covers every corner of your pussy with no difficulty, leaving you with no untouched itch, no ignored stretch of wet skin. 
You can’t even bear to look down at him again, and you toss your gaze up to the stars as they twinkle above, blinking, conspirators to your escapade. Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, your hips slowly roll up and down as Jake sucks around your clit, his big hands working overtime to keep you from wriggling away entirely off the rock and to the ground.
“Oh, god…”
Between your legs is a flurry of warmth, a tingling feeling rippling down to your toes. After five dry years, it comes as no real shock that even someone’s tongue could be ripping this kind of response from you. 
“You good?” Jake murmurs.
“Mmh. Hot,” you rasp. It doesn’t help that there’s an exo-pack warming your face with every deep breath you take. Jake moves his mouth from your cunt momentarily as if trying to hear you, watching with curious eyes when you bite back another noise which stirs as he slides his finger towards your entrance. 
“This mask is really ruining my vibe right now,” you groan, your voice so throaty and strangled that Jake has to fight a smirk. He fails miserably.
“Take it off and hold your breath,” Jake replies; a laugh rumbles from his chest when you lift your head to scowl at him.
“It would frighten people if they knew how much of a genius you were.”
Jake hums, his eyes glistening as he cocks his head, “I’m incredibly humble.” Then he wastes no more time talking and sinks his finger into you.
He sinks in with plenty of ease, your wetness guiding his finger all the way in to the knuckle and you choke back a strangled sound; one of Jake’s fingers feels like two of your own, the stretch unfamiliar but not unwelcome after your dry spell of five cryo-stolen years. 
Jake grins widely and inches his tongue back between your legs, swiping it over your clit and forcing the moans out from hiding in your throat.
You turn your head to the side, sparing a glance at the distant laboratory. You can only hope you’re not loud enough to startle your sleeping colleagues and brother.
“Eyes down here, Spellman,” Jake mumbles, his voice vibrating across your pussy and pulling your eyes back towards him. Tears spring to your eyes as he looks up at you, working his fingers in and out of you slowly while matching his licks to the tempo.
His tongue is slightly rough and textured, each lick leaving you feeling almost ticklish. A rush of warmth pulls from your cunt up to your neck, and your thighs tremble around his head with a flushed squeeze, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind; he pulls your one leg further apart with his other hand and slips in a second finger, the stretch of your hole making your back arch with a half pained, half pleasured moan.
“Jake!” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his mouth, his fangs brushing across you. He has the nerve to laugh all of a sudden, pulling his mouth away after pressing a sloppy kiss to your clit. “Jesus, fuck, Jake—”
“Goddamn, you are a yapper,” Jake comments, and you glare at the almost human look of pure smugness on his face, his chin coated with saliva and juice. 
“Fuck you,” you huff, feeling the absence of his tongue immensely, despite his continuously moving fingers. Jake’s fingers are thicker than they looked from afar — it feels like you’re full already, but you’re not willing to confess that to him. He already looks far too proud with what he’s doing.
You suppose, now that you’re thinking about it, Jake’s had years to become familiar with a pussy; he seems to be back between your legs with a certain hunger for you, the taste of your juices sweeter than he initially expected. 
His fingers are coated in juice, slipping into you with no resistance and curling his fingers up to make your hips lift once more. He almost wants to make a comment to fluster you, to tell you how insanely good it feels for your cunt to be quivering around his fingers, welcoming him up there as if you’d prepared for them beforehand. Jake parts his fingers inside of you, stretching you out, his mouth comfortably attached to you.
His ears twitch when you let out a wobbly cry — actually, he’s not sure if you’re crying for real or not. His eyes follow your hand as it creeps down to the hood of your pussy, just above his nose, and he pulls his mouth away for a split second.
“No, no, go back,” you pant, and like a dog given a command, Jake pulls his soggy fingers out of your cunt and pushes his head back between your thighs, satisfied by your own pleasured sounds when he does.
Jake hooks his arm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the sloping boulder while he uses his other hand to keep your legs wide apart. You forget all about modesty and self-control and open them as wide as you can for him to help, your hand stroking the top of Jake’s hair as he burrows his way back between the wet spot he was devouring. 
You suck in a tight and high-pitched breath when Jake’s tongue shifts from left to right over your clit, the feeling of his tongue strange and almost like a vibration. Your hips lift from the boulder again and shift up and down — Jake’s barely even trying, barely broken a sweat, but when he glances up at you he’s both amused and surprised by how twisted in pleasure you look. All he can see is the underneath of your jaw tilted to the sky, and one of your hands curling up around your tit under your tank top.
Jake guides his arm from trapping your abdomen up to push the bottom of your tank up above your wrist. There’s no way he’ll let you gatekeep the sight of your tits when he’s the one making you touch yourself in the first place. His eyes are wide with excitement when you fist the fabric of your tank and yank it up above your boobs, the curve of them bouncing with the quick movement of your hand. 
Jake groans into you, his tail curling up high. Jake’s tasted a lot of pussy in his life, but he doesn’t know what exactly you’ve done to taste so good to him. He momentarily convinces himself that it feels different because he’s in a whole other body — it must just be because he’s big and strange and he’s been fucking you in his mind for a while now that you somehow feel ten times better than anyone else he’s ever been with. 
The pool of warm juice between your legs leaves you incredibly soft and squishy, like a tìhawnuwll that he has to remind himself he can’t just sink his teeth into.
It could be because you’re Norm’s sister. Could be because you usually appear so big when he’s resorted to sitting down all day, but now you’re helplessly tiny underneath him, trapped by his arms and head. Or it could just be because he’s an idiot who quashes his feelings rather than gives in to them.
He blinks. Your hips are so high off the boulder that Jake has to bring his arm back down to hold you in place. The less you squirm, the more drawn out he can make it, but he’s acutely aware of the tremor in your legs, the impatient rutting against his lips, the painful hardness under his tewng.
“Sweet,” he grumbles. The word leaves you flustered, and the heat brewing like a bomb against his open mouth begins to rise through your body again. You forget to be quiet as you let out a high-pitched moan, feeling your toes curl in your boots and you desperately finger at your nipple, rolling and tugging on the hardened nub of flesh as Jake pins you tighter against the boulder. He laves his tongue down your cunt towards your entrance, the warm tip of it pushing to the tightened hole that Jake wants more than anything to squeeze himself inside.
“Mf — Jake, come on,” you whimper.
One of his thin brows raises. “You seduced yet?”
“Fuck off. Yes.”
You feel the rumble of his laughter against your pussy. Jake presses a kiss against it and then moves his mouth to the soft skin of your inner thigh. 
“I never let a woman go without making her cum,” Jake says, his voice muffled against your leg. He feels you quiver beneath him, and his grin widens. “You wanna at least cum first, right?”
“Please, Jake—”
A startled cry of pain rips from your throat when Jake gently sinks his teeth into your leg — Jake knows his own strength and pulls back before he can draw blood, glancing at the red outline of his teeth imprinted into your leg, a ridged ring of saliva in his wake. Your head is lifted entirely to gape at him, and he looks at you with a coy expression.
“Did you just bite me?”
He smirks. “Accident. Sorry.”
“Yeah right.” Your legs shift slightly around him, but Jake can smell the twisting agony of pleasure leaking out of you — he’s never been more thankful for his Na’vi body and its strange sense of smell than he is now, to be able to pick up on the need you try to hide from him, a scent he actually understands. Normally he can admire your determination, but right now, he’s more concerned with finding out how to break down your walls and unravel you the way he knows you’ve been wanting him to for the last two months.
He smooches the bite one more time, his ears pricking when you whimper out a sort of desperately small sound and say, “Come on, Jake. You got me out here, don’t torture me about it.”
“Me eating your pussy not enough for you?” he asks smugly. He knows it would be more than enough — call him conceited, but he’s sort of an expert on it by now.
You don’t say much, nothing worth noting, at least. Jake’s ears are tall as he lifts his head slightly, but his thumb continues to rub up and down your slit, carefully smoothing over your swollen clit almost sympathetically.
“Please,” you beg in such a small and desperate voice that Jake smiles at the sound. You see his eyes flutter, half-lidded, as he cocks his head to the side until his temple is against your knee. 
“Hm? You just wanna say please and get it over and done with?” Jake mutters. “You can’t take any more of my fingers?”
“Don’t be a prick,” you whimper. “You want it, too.”
You feel that unkind heat simmer over you again, but not for the reason you expect. Jake blinks at you lazily, like an unimpressed cat, and then you watch as his eyes curve into crescent moons, the slint of gold virtually glowing in the Pandoran night. Then, the fucker smiles again, looking so smug that you feel embarrassed somehow, caught under his gaze.
“Yeah, I do,” agrees Jake. “I’ve been wanting you a long time.”
“Then, come on,” you urge. Something excited claws at you, and you feel your heartbeat race when he lifts himself slightly. “Come on, big guy. You got me out here, you win.”
He swells with pride, pleased by what is leaving your mouth in a flustered flurry. 
“You think you can take me all by yourself?” he asks, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he turns his gaze back to the clenching hole between your legs. Jake looks almost thoughtful as he stares at you, as if analysing. “You could only just take two fingers.”
For such an intelligent woman, Jake finds himself amazed when you look anxious about that statement. What, do you really think he’ll just give up and go? Jake doesn’t care if it takes all night to get himself up your snatch, because no matter what, he’ll get himself in there.
He sniggers when your mouth flounders like a little fish, your tank sliding with the angle of your body back down over your tits, but then he tuts and reaches back to pull it up. In fact, he decides it’s better off, and he uses one finger to pull the whole thing up to your chin, and lets you suffer in an anxious string of actions — you tug the tank up over your head, eyes wide, lip pouting. 
“Wanna try?” Jake asks, if not to speed along the increasing agony of his hard cock tenting under his tewng then just to put you out of your misery. “Or should I go back for seconds?”
“Jake…” Your chest rises and falls as you gape at him. He went through all the trouble to get you here, and although you never expected to look at Jake’s avatar and feel a throb between your legs, you can’t even look at him without feeling overcome with the terrible, pressing desire to squeeze whatever weapon he has under his loincloth into your cunt. Jake watches your eyes look down at the darkness between his legs, to the pretty band of string tied around his middle, and then looks back at you with a sickeningly sweet expression.
“Aw, honey. You want me to fuck you?”
It takes an incredible amount of effort not to scowl at him. Jake is lucky he looks so attractive with your arousal around his lips, otherwise you’d be up off the boulder and marching back to the labs for being so unbelievably full of himself. 
But even though he’s double your size and consumed by a cocky smugness from being able bodied and towering over you, you can’t think of enough reasons to warrant your leave. The only things on your mind are how much it’ll hurt to get him inside you, and how good it’ll feel once he is.
“That’s why you brought me here, after all, isn’t it?” you murmur, your lips curved slightly when he bows his body over you, his hands flat against the boulder on either side of your waist. “You’ve been thinking of me, right? Oeyä sayrìp tsamsiyu — you must have thought about this every time you went and found me a flower, right?”
Jake’s smile turns wolfish. “Yap, yap, yap.”
You all but whine underneath him. It is so unbecoming of you to be so desperate for something that you resort to writhing like a brat, but with Jake just straddling over you without doing anything, you feel the eager feeling of want coiling in your lower stomach. Your hole clenches around the air, as if trying to feel for Jake’s fingers again, and you lift your hips up off the boulder as if to entice him.
He barely even looks down at you, which only infuriates you more. 
For a moment, you wonder if the only reason he lured you out here was to satiate a desire of his own; maybe he just wanted to prove that he still had what it took to make a woman beg for him — though he needn’t have tried so hard, considering you’d have writhed and whined for him just as much, if not more, had he just made it known that he knew about and returned your feelings sooner.
But having you touch him in an impossible silence in the shared bunks pales in comparison to now, to having you look so small and soft and inviting; for you to beg for him, to let yourself be ravaged by him in all of his strength. Why would he prefer to have you while he feels useless when he can make the most of the strong, brawny and big body his brother passed down to him?
Jake breathes deeply through his nose and chews on the inner skin under his lips. You watch in the dark as his tail coils, his ears flat, until he lowers his body down like he’s doing a press up and pushes his nose against your sternum. 
“You smell so pretty, baby girl,” Jake mutters, pressing a kiss against the skin sloping between your tits. Biting your lip does little to suppress the moan that spills out when Jake cups one of his hands around your breast, and you hold the back of his hand as he gently squeezes. 
The hanging cloth of his tewng brushes past your pussy and you jolt in surprise, just in time for Jake to bring his mouth down over your other boob. The sheer size of Jake dwarfs every feature of yours, but something about your tiny size only excites him more. 
With his lips wrapped around your tit, you try your hardest to muffle another moan at the feeling of his tongue toying around your nipple, desperately trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the absurdly good feeling of Jake’s mouth or the tewng brushing past your pussy every time Jake rocks his hips backwards and forwards.
You clench your hand over his, feeling your legs squirm around him as his sharp teeth scrape against the squishy curve of your breast. Fear should rip through you when you feel his teeth tighten around the top of your tit, but it doesn’t; instead, a rush of warm excitement burns you from the inside out when Jake’s cheeks hollow, sucking a purple blot into your skin.
“Hey—” you say cautiously, but the damage is already done. It’s as if Jake’s determined to make you the same shade as him; the mark he leaves is blooming and bright, and he looks all too proud of himself when he looks up in acknowledgement of your voice. His tail thrashes excitedly. 
“Leaving that so everyone can see what you were doing when they wake up,” Jake explains, licking a strip from the swelling bruise to your neck for good measure. “My dirty scientist.”
That is if you ever make it back to the lab in one piece. 
Feeling the pleasure spreading across your body, you’re half contemplating staying here on this rock forever, hoping that Norm or Grace never come back here looking for samples only to find your corpse. You’re overcome with a conflicting contrast of emotions — you suddenly feel so exposed, so unraveled, half guilty for encouraging Jake to shove his big blue fingers up your crotch, and even guiltier about the fact that you want more from him.
“Enough. Come on,” you huff, and Jake dips his attention back to the rutting of your hips, the glossy shine of your arousal. “While I’m wet.”
“You really think I’m gonna let you dry up before I can get inside you?” Jake asks, as if the idea is beneath you both. “Have some confidence in me, Spellman.”
“I do. Full confidence. So, come on, gimme.”
Jake grins; he leans his weight up on one knee and in the light, you can just about see the protruding point of his tewng and feel your desire pooling. It’s only when Jake undoes the string around his waist and frees what hides beneath that you start to feel your body tense unexpectedly; it is beyond you how Jake has managed to keep the spear he calls his cock hidden for so long, and even more unthinkable as to how it will fit inside of you. 
You stare at it with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Jake holds the base of it with his hand and assesses the space between your legs again. When he guides the tip to your folds and strokes himself up and down, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your legs turn like jelly.
“You like it?” he asks, ever so sweetly, as if it’s a new gift brought back for you to enjoy. In a way, it is a gift, something for you to sample. Jake’s body seems to vibrate with nothing short of delight at the speechless state his dick has left you in — and he hasn’t even put it in yet.
“Big, right?” he continues to ask, a smirk on his face.
All you can say is, “how do you walk around with that thing?”
He barks out a laugh, his head tilted to the stars as his smirk widens. Jake then pushes the tip against you again with his thumb, choking down his amused sniggers as he drags himself up and down your cunt, and more than anything, he wishes he could see your face better in the moonlight. Luckily, Jake’s spent hours staring at you in his wheelchair to be able to piece together the smudges of your features he can see in the reflection of light hanging over the front of your mask. And what he can’t see, he’ll hear, and what he’s not satisfied with not seeing he’ll seek from you again later.
“It’ll be a tight fit,” Jake thinks out loud, prodding the tip of his cock against your entrance and looking up at you once you whimper, “but I know you can take it.”
“I dunno… Looks kind of big—”
“You can fit it in,” he tells you confidently.
But now you’ve seen it, you’re slightly nervous. “What if I can’t—?”
“You were just begging me for it,” Jake says pointedly. “While I’m wet, you said.” Then, he leans forward so that the wide slope of his nose is pushed against the front of your mask. “I don’t care if it takes all night trying. I’ll help you fit it all in, okay?”
You breathe in sharply, feeling your hips grinding up against him. Jake tries to find sympathy for you; he supposes that if he were you and some ten foot Na’vi was trying to burrow his cock between his legs, he’d be apprehensive too. 
“Just…” you rasp, watching him desperately, and he waits kindly, though his tip is on the verge of being swallowed by your cunt. Your legs tremble when he smiles at you, one hand on his cock, the other flat against the boulder. “Just go slow, okay?”
The way he looks at you is as if you’ve just said something stupidly endearing. “Sure thing, Spellman.”
Jake does his best to keep up his presented facade of coolness, but you feel so warm and wet, his arm begins to shake as he supports his weight on the boulder, grunting when he aligns his cockhead with your hole and very slightly pushes in. Even though he only just had his fingers up there, he can feel your pussy resisting, and it’s only the tip. 
Your mouth hangs open with a pained whine, the stretch uncomfortable but in spite of it, you arch your back as if trying to feel more of him inside of you.
“Easy,” he chuckles, very slowly pushing more of himself into your pussy. The noises from your mouth grow louder, and something proud purrs in his chest. His tongue pushes against the inside of his lower lip as he smirks, teeth showing, as he makes an almost amused groan. You’re insanely tight, and unbelievably squishy and wet — and hey, it’s been five years for him, too.
“Yeah,” Jake groans, pushing his hips further and pulling out, each stroke gentle and tentative. He wants more than anything to go rough, to make you mewl and cry and curl up against him, but the tearful look on your face makes him reconsider. Each time he sinks in a little bit deeper, softening the resistance of your walls as they make room for him. 
It takes an incredible amount of self restraint to stop himself from shoving all of it in at once; you’re so tight, the tightest pussy he’s ever felt closing around his cock, and easily the best. Jake closes his eyes for a second, honing in on the squeezing clench around his cock and the unnerving, uncharacteristic silence leaving your gaping mouth. 
“Talk to me, Spellman,” Jake groans, inching deeper inside. His ears perk again when you cry as he sinks in deeper. “Say something.”
“You told me I talked too much,” you manage out, admirably trying your hardest to remain quiet despite the pushing twelve inches of Na’vi cock up your cunt. Jake’s barely even inside of you; more of his dick is out than it is stuffed inside. 
“I love hearing you talk,” replies Jake, even though he had just poked fun at your ability to talk someone’s ear off. Had he known it would swear you into silence now, he’d have never said anything. What Jake wants now most of all is to hear your voice again, hear your pleasure, your instructions, your pleas. 
Hearing you slip out a high pitched moan when he pushes more of his cock inside of you feels like a reward almost. 
“Could listen to you yap away all damn day,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes finding yours behind the glaze of the exo-pack. “I know you’ve always got something to say, so why’re you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jake’s grin brightens when you manage to suck in more of his length, “Talk to me, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”
“Just… Put it in,” you whimper, and his eyes widen excitedly. 
“You said to go slow.”
“I know what I said, but I need more.” Your eyes are so blown open he’d laugh if it didn’t look so goddamn sexy. “Please, Jake.”
“You sure?” he croons. 
“Mm. Please — come on, please—!”
Jake snaps his hips forward so quickly that more than half of dick disappears inside of you, and the primal noise that leaves your mouth takes Jake completely by surprise. 
“Fucking shit, mama,” Jake groans, his voice rasped as he bows his chest over yours, dropping to his forearm on the boulder as he adjusts to the warmth enveloping him. “Holy shit.”
You swallow a deep breath, your hands gripping tightly to Jake’s shoulders which forces his eyes to your face. He can make out the distinct shimmer of tears under your eyes, and he brushes his fingers across the side of your neck, tapping you to bring your eyes open and searching for him in the dark. 
“You with me?” he asks, chuckling slightly. “You good?”
“Oh my god,” you squeal, cunt clenching. “Wait—”
“Breathe,” Jake says quietly, pressing a kiss to the swollen bruise he sucked into your skin earlier. “You can do it, pretty girl.”
“Keep moving, it hurts when you just stay still.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, his hips falling back into a slow rhythm to keep you adjusted to his twitching cock. It’s almost disturbing how easily you’re taking him now he’s forced more of his length inside, how wet and responsive you seem to be as he sinks deeper into you.
At first, Jake goes slow, familiarising himself with every noise you give him, every twitch and shift in your body, every clench around him. You feel the smooth ridges of his cock kissing your insides, the sensation unfamiliar and strange but so fucking good. He snakes one hand under your back when you lift up off the boulder; his large palm is flat against the arch of your spine, his fingers curled around your hip. 
You look like a toy underneath him, something he could easily just hold with one hand and fuck himself up into.
His hips snap again, faster than he intended, and more of his dick disappears inside of you. You could easily take all of him if he took his time getting you to that point, but the warmth wrapping around him like a glove is so sinful that he can’t think of anything less appealing than going slow. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and squeezes your waist with his hand; one desperate little cry from your mouth later, and Jake forgives himself for having waited so long to get you in this position, to fuck you stupid. 
It’s been so long since Jake’s been able to fuck a woman like this, and for his first time since his accident to be with you, of all people — well, Jake could think of no greater victory, no better reward for all the shit he’s endured so far. 
He stares down at the gap between your legs, watching as his dick vanishes and reappears with every rock of his hips. You’re taking it so well, like a champion. Pride blooms in his chest — he’d expect nothing less from his woman.
Pulling your hips down slightly to meet him as he thrusts up, Jake shoulders the control and moans in a low tone, pushing until he feels your body seize underneath him. Then, he pulls back, falls back in, and gets himself comfortable.
The stretch no longer burns the way it did, but you feel as though you can barely breathe as Jake ruts his hips up. He’s so big in every definition of the word. He doesn’t seem to notice nor care about the deep indent of your fingernails in his shoulder; he seems entirely devoted to gaining momentum, creating his own pace with his ears flat against his bowed head.
“God… Jake,” you moan, feeling the slight point of the boulder against your shoulder blades and his hand squeezing your middle as you finally speak, after what feels like eons of silence to Jake.
He latches his gaze to the rise and fall of your breasts as he fucks you, his breathing heavy. “Oh, you like that?”
Ever so slightly, he hastens his pacing, eliciting a tearful sob from your mouth. “Mmf—”
“Is it everything you hoped for?”
His stomach churns when you laugh, albeit with a strangled kind of tone, and clench around his cock again.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“So’re you,” he points out, lifting his chest slightly to glance down at your stomach. It should be criminal how turned on he feels by the sight of his own dick outlined in your lower tummy — it should be criminal how insanely good it feels knowing he’s fucking a part of you nobody else has before. You’ve lost all self control as you decide to let yourself be noisy, which Jake is all too pleased to hear.
Peering down at your hips, you marvel at the sight of Jake’s frightening length pushing up against your stomach. It looks just as weird as it feels. Jake hisses and runs a hand across the spot his dick is hitting.
“Feel that?” he asks. He knows you do. It’s a stupidly dumb question, but you whine at it all the same. “I told you it would fit. Look at you, taking it all, no problem.”
“Mhm. Feels good; so, so, so good, Jake…” Your body feels limp and tingly, and you let your head fall back so your gaze is pointed up at the sky. Even as you blink dazed up at them, they have the striking appearance of Jake’s skin, the dark blue wash of sky with littered balls of bright white light. The image of him is printed on your mind, and no matter where you look to avoid his gaze, you find him again.
Jake shifts. Keeping his dick sliding in and out of you with more of an upbeat rhythm than before, he bows his chest back over yours and brings his ears close to your ear.
“A perfect fit for my perfect girl,” he mutters. He becomes so reliant on his one hand on the boulder when he uses the other to hold your leg up around his waist, bringing forth an entirely new burn from the stretch of it. His breath is warm on your ear, making you shudder. “How long you been waiting for me, baby?”
You scoff disbelievingly, trying to think of something to say despite your mind being both full and empty at the same time. All you can think about is the building pressure in your tummy.
“Long,” you offer, snaking a hand up his neck to the back of his head. 
Jake licks his tongue across the arch of skin connecting your neck to your collar. “Thinking of me with your fingers up your cunt at night, huh?” His hand squeezes around your middle when you begin to shift with his thrusts further up the boulder. Even with your loud cries in his ear, Jake can hear the squelching wetness around his cock, the tightening spasms around his length bringing him closer to giving in to the dull ache in his own stomach. “Bet you wheelchair Jake Sully couldn’t make you feel like this. Next time you get off to the thought of him, I want you to think of what we’re doing right now, about who’s got you feeling this way.”
“How…how do you even know about that?” you gasp, half pleasured by his thrusting and half horrified by the revelation that Jake might have been privy to the fact you masturbated with him in mind when everyone went to bed at night.
Actually, he didn’t know. But he sniggers smugly that his teasing jeer turned out to be true. 
Jake presses a kiss to your collar and peppers a line of them up until he is thwarted by the mask covering your face. Peering down at your face hidden behind it, Jake gives you a sad pout and says, “I wanna go fast.”
“I…” you start, his hips already moving and you feel the heat simmering below again. Anymore from him, and you’ll be finished, cumming all over him. “I don’t think… I’ll — I’m gonna—”
“Then let’s get it done,” he says with as much finality and refine as he can muster before he picks himself back up, finding the energy he had before to pin you down against the boulder. You keep your leg wrapped around his waist as he sets one hand down over your tummy, the other on your shoulder, and then the real fun begins for him.
Jake isn’t ignorant to the twisting ache inside of him — like you, he knows he probably doesn’t have that much longer until he’s completely tuckered out and ready to fill you up. What can he say? It’s been a long time, and he doesn’t have the same kind of stamina as he used to. You’re tightening up around him in anticipation; it’s like being gripped in a vice. 
He pulls his hips back and then pistons himself back in with so much speed that you almost fly up off the boulder in surprise. Too fast, he thinks, so he gets accustomed to a regular fast pace and sticks to it loyally. In return, he’s rewarded with a litany of pretty sounds, your hands curling around his arms, desperately trying to hold on. 
“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jake groans, feeling your cunt fluttering around him as he fucks in and out, slipping in and out of your wetness as if he owns it. The hand that’s pressing your shoulder slips to your throat, and while he doesn’t squeeze, you claw your fingers around his and feel his grip tighten ever so slightly. 
“Fuck!” you squeal, clamping your eyes closed suddenly. “Shit—Jake, baby—”
He moans at that, really moans. A ringing rises in volume in his ears as his thrusts grow more rapid, relentlessly smacking his hips up until he slides all of his dick inside of you. 
God, you’re fucking perfect — he can’t name many women, if any at all, who could take a dick this size with as much ease as you are now. But the increasing pressure in your tummy is so overwhelming that you’re not even too aware of the size of what’s getting comfortable inside of you. All you know and understand is that in the next three seconds, you’ll be seeing white.
Jake’s name falls like a mantra from your lips, and he looks at you in surprise to see that you’ve very bravely opened your eyes to stare at him, although the tears lining your waterline and smeared down your cheeks make your stare look ten times more attractive to him. He almost wishes he hadn’t looked — his hips stagger slightly and he growls, the noise earning him another whiney moan from the undone woman beneath him, the woman he’s committed to filling with his cum and making his.
“I—!” You say nothing — you don’t even have to. Jake feels your cunt strangling his length like a goddamn fist, and by the buffering look of pure ecstasy on your face, he’s fairly certain all of those things mean you’re about to cum.
“Yeah, mama, cum for me,” Jake coaxes. “Lemme feel you.”
The warmth around him clenches, and all of a sudden, your body seizes with a jolt, your back arched so high off the boulder that it leaves him hitting entirely new angles inside of you, pushing your orgasm to a new level. 
For you, it feels like you’ve been blown up. Your entire body is consumed by a blazing heat, your legs going immediately limp as you cum around him. Jake’s eyes instantly shift to your quivering hips, to your cunt still swallowing him up, the white dribbles of cum leaking down the length of his cock. He watches the small cluster of glowing freckles decorating his dick disappear behind a rolling drop of your cum and his jaw goes slack.
“My girl,” he crows, his head bowing as he eagerly fucks into you a few more times, muttering the same thing as he does: “Oh, my girl, my pretty girl—”
The hand around your throat rips itself away only to squeeze into your hips, as though Jake intends to leave fingerprints there once he’s done. He grips you tightly and with a monumental and low, throaty moan, he snaps his hips one final time and feels a tug in his tummy.
You probably feel him cum before he does. Jake seems caught up in his thrusts while you register the unmissable burst of warmth inside of you, ropes of cum spilling out as if his sole intention were to breed you, stuff you full of his seed. 
In actual fact, Jake just wanted to fuck you silly, fill you with boat loads of cum, and bask in the evil satisfaction of watching Norm smell Jake all over you, claiming you as his. 
“Mm—fuck, Jake!” you rasp, squeezing your little hands around his wrists. The feeling is enough to bring him up to the surface he was drowning under, the ringing in his ears dulling as he catches his breath and opens his eyes, staring down at the embarrassingly wet mixture of cum and juice between your legs. 
He stays inside of you for a moment, his dick still hard and even more pronounced up your cunt than it was before, and it’s as if his eyes are unfocused in absolute awe as he observes the sight of you stretched open, locking him in place greedily. 
It sinks in that you managed to fit all of him in, that he just used his avatar to fuck you in the forest behind the lab. You. Norm’s sister. The object of his desire. The woman of his literal dreams.
Jake lets out a loud and heavy breath, a sigh of relief, and rubs his palms up and down your stomach gently. Despite having had him fucking you just seconds before, you feel a heat flush over your face when he looks up at your face, sweaty and tear-stained under the exo-pack, and he grins wolfishly.
“You’re incredible,” he laughs, which makes the act of looking at him feel ten times more rewarding. Your body warms with the praise: all you’ve wanted was for Jake to like you back, and now, to be full of his cum and knowing he thinks you’re incredible… You laugh with him. 
A few disbelieving laughs later, and Jake finally moves his hands under your thighs and slowly pulls himself out of you. The bump of each ridge along his length knocks past you, and Jake stifles a howl of laughter at the whiney, high-pitched moan you make as his cock pulls out of you with a slick, wet pop. He cranes his head slightly to watch his cum pool out of you and you pick yourself up on your forearms, looking for his dick between his legs to have a final peek, a good look at him covered in your cum and his…
Your eyes widen. “Your cum glows.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “What? Scientist of Pandora didn’t know Na’vi cum glowed?”
“I haven’t exactly had a selection of Na’vi men or women to tell me that it did!” you reason, your eyes still marvelling curiously at the shiny soft blue stain over the hanging fruit between his legs. 
He hums, poking a finger against your folds and smirking when you flinch. “Hm. Put that in your research notes. Wanna take samples?”
“Fuck off,” you laugh, keeping your legs wide as you struggle to sit upright. The discomfort between your legs is suddenly making itself known, and already the cum around your pussy and thighs is drying, sticky and thick. “Jesus, Sully. Look at me.”
“I know,” grins Jake, his eyes soaking up the image of you. “You’re fucking sexy.”
You roll your eyes with a twisting smile. While Jake seems incredibly fascinated with the marks he has either left accidentally or on purpose over your body, you groan and roll your shoulders. Frankly, you wish Jake had just thrown you down on the grass and fucked you there — in hindsight, the boulder had been a bad idea and you know it will come to haunt you in the morning.
Lazily, and yet with a rush of shame and exhilaration, you glance back at the lab, sitting in the curve of moonlight and caged by bioluminescent flowers and shrubs, each glowing vibrant spectrums of cyan and purple and lime. 
“You’re the luckiest woman alive if nobody heard you yapping,” Jake says playfully, rising upright to stretch the agonised muscles of his legs. “You’re so noisy, honey.”
“I apologise for not thinking too much about the volume of my voice,” you drawl sarcastically, your eyes still glued to the glazed thick glass windows looking into the back of the lab. Anxiously, you glance at him, “Was I that loud?”
He gives you a tight, sympathetic smile. You frown.
“You weren’t quiet yourself, you know,” you grumble, feeling the pinch in your back ease slightly.
“Yep.” And he seems smug about that fact, for reasons beyond you, although you wager a guess as to why he seems proud all of a sudden.
As you shuffle awkwardly off the boulder, you wince as you lean for your shorts and panties, dropping a little look at the sliding dollop of cum slipping out of you. 
“You gotta keep it in there,” Jake says. 
“Jake, as soon as I stand up and walk around, it’s all gonna come pouring out anyway.”
His lip curls with disappointment as he watches his cum drip out of you onto the edge of the boulder, splatting on the wisps of grass around your ankles. It’s a good thing he’s full of copious reserves of cum to give back to you another time.
“Can’t wait for Norm to get a whiff of me,” Jake tells you, and you fight the urge to sigh and roll your eyes, because of course — of course that had been a motive for the gallon of glowing blue sperm Jake just squoze into you. “The look on his face when he figures out I’ve been breedin’ his little sister—”
“I have never been more thankful of the fact that Na’vi and humans can’t reproduce together. Hand on my heart, I mean that.”
You slide your shorts and panties back up your legs and reach for your thrown tank top. The inconspicuous smudges of green from the boulder across the back of it fill you with a puny drop of dread — you’ll just pray really hard to both God and Eywa that nobody pays it any mind. 
That and the bulbous bruise on your tit, the bite on your leg, the finger indents on your hips.
“I was doing that thing you were doing. Killing two birds with one stone,” Jake says as he searches the ground for his tewng. “Fucking you ‘cause I wanted to and fucking you because I know wanting you is gonna piss off your annoying big brother.”
You had said that, hadn’t you? And even though the entire scheme of Jake wanting to scorn your brother so badly that he has to use you as a human fuck-toy seems ludicrous, you can’t deny the very minuscule jolt of thrill it gives you. It would be fun to piss Norm off a little bit. He has been a total arse lately.
“Norm’s all you think about,” you tease. “You sure you don’t like him instead?”
“Shut up.”
Jake hands you your cardigan with an amused smile, his tail whipping to and fro happily. 
“Your coat, ma’am.”
“Love how you only have one thing to slip back into,” you point out as you take the cardigan from him, and he reaches for the tewng and chuckles. “You could’ve just lifted it up.”
“Could’ve, would’ve, didn’t,” he replies.
There’s an uncharacteristic silence between you both as you climb back into your clothes, and while Jake fiddles with his tewng with his tongue between his lips, you look back at the lab and sigh. 
Somewhere in that lab is the man you’ve been thinking of for two months — Jake in his human form, lying in a link unit as he takes control through another body. You wonder what he might think when he wakes up: will he come searching for you in the dark? Come kiss you, tell you how he feels?
Jake creeps up to you with an alarming light foot, and the feeling of his hand on top of your head makes you look up suddenly. 
“What’s on your mind?” he asks. 
“You,” you sigh, looking back at the lab. “Are you going to follow through with tonight when you’re back as yourself, or is this an avatar Jake exclusive?”
“Come on. You still want that loser in there?” Jake feels his heart tug — he doesn’t know if to feel offended that you’re still thinking of someone else, or flattered because that someone else is technically him, the real him, the version of him that Jake hates the most.
“You’re so mean to him,” you grumble. Then pause, and add, “To you. That’s literally still you in there. If anything, doesn’t that make me look a little bit obsessed?” Jake gently pushes your head as you fall into a slow walk in the direction of the remote lab. “Wow. Actually, I just realised that’s true.”
“Finding out that you liked me was the only reason I started spending more than five minutes at a time in the lab,” Jake tells you. 
“Who told you?”
You both accept a short silence as you stride past the wall that most of the bunks are built against, and you feel an anxious knot forming in your stomach when the clearing at the front of the lab expands into view. 
“I meant it when I said you were horrible at hiding your crush on me,” Jake reminds you. 
Right. 
The tsawksyul Jake found you is thankfully still where you left it, and you slip out of Jake’s touch to fetch it from under the window, but when you turn to him, his eyes are pulled back across the miles of suspended mountains.
“You have somewhere else to be?” you call.
His top lip curls into a half pout as he says, “Not now. But tomorrow I’ve got to do some hunting. If I make a clean kill, I start my iknimaya.”
“Impressive,” you comment, twirling the tsawksyul between your fingers. “You… Will you be gone long?”
Jake hesitates for a moment. Is he reading into it, or are you looking a little bit more crestfallen now you know he’ll be gone for a little while longer?
“Why, you wanna go again?” he asks with a laugh.
“Respectfully, I think my vagina is broken and I need to lie down,” you quip, making him laugh even more. “I was just…curious. If you’re gone too long, I’ll be asleep before you get back.”
Jake creeps towards you and drops to a painful crouch. He’s definitely going to feel the cry and protest in his legs in the morning from being haunched for so long. Still, he frames your face with his hands and takes a long look at your face.
“I’ll roll past your bed extra quietly,” he promises. 
You snort and push yourself away from him. “Safe travels, big guy. I’ll see you in the morning?”
Peering up at him, you breathe in the sight of him one last time as he nods once and rises to stand. The long shadow drawn by his lithe figure falls over you.
“Affirmative,” he states. You look up at him for a second and smile. Did it take having his cock in your stomach for you to realise how pretty he is like this, or have you known all along?
“Go,” you tell him, nodding towards the edge of the cliff before turning to the door. Over your shoulder, Jake scoffs a laugh and turns on his heels, his eyes scanning the mountain range as he approaches the edge. 
The bravery you had before died long ago and you quickly twist the air-lock to the door and force it open, your heart in your throat. You don’t look back at him, even when he looks back at you with an endearing smile on his face.
The lab is deathly silent when you slide back inside. You were half expecting someone to stir at the sound of the door sealing shut, but if anyone’s awake, they make no effort to show it. Tip-toeing to the small bathroom, you very hurriedly go about your business and wipe away the eternal flood of cum from between your legs. With the amount Jake just put inside you, you’re fairly confident that even a human with an average sense of smell could sniff him all over you.
The long stalk back to your bunk is made silently and carefully. Norm is fast asleep on the top bunk he unhappily shares with Jake, the aforementioned’s bunk empty and cold, the link unit whirring quietly. Just the sight and sound of it makes you unnaturally nervous, and you turn to speed towards your bottom bunk and peer at Trudy. She’s out like a light. 
The thin blanket is pulled to your chin once you settle in the sheets, and you refuse to accept that it’s cowardice you feel when the sound of the link unit slowly begins to fade and Jake hauls himself out with a pained groan. You remain very still as he fumbles for his chair, though you fight the urge to get up, help him and while you’re at it, kiss him until he can’t breathe.
You hope your acting has improved since your terrible attempts of hiding your crush and try to make it look as though you’re asleep, but the distinct sound of rolling wheels makes its way towards where you sleep; you steady your breaths so it looks like you’re out of it, and perhaps Jake will fall for it this time. 
Your stomach tightens when the wheels stop next to your bed, and you’re uncomfortably aware of the set of eyes staring at you curled up and facing the wall.
Jake’s hand brushes the back of your head gently, and you’re not sure if that means you’ve been caught, but then you feel Jake’s fingers brush a section of hair away from your neck and nearly sigh at the feeling of his mouth pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. It is so sweet, so fond and gentle, and annoyingly quick. He pulls away and the sound of wheels roll towards his own bunk.
Every sound he makes feels like it’s right in your ear. 
You almost wish you’d rolled over and took his face into your hands. But Jake’s smooch against your nape feels like a stolen secret, something shared between only you two, something special. 
No matter, you think as you wriggle to get comfortable. He’ll be there in the morning. And it’ll be the man you’ve wanted the entire time who wants you back who receives all your stirring desires.
3K notes · View notes
teeskzagain · 2 months ago
Text
pov: bully!perv wooyoung couldn’t resist an opportunity to mess with you
warnings: brief mentions of bullying (nothing severe), mentions of sexual frustrations, elements of cnc (but again, nothing extreme), fingering, mutual masturbation, “unwanted” ejaculation on to reader, public sex, like a smidge of fluff? take it or leave it, desperate woo (my fav actually) minor tit play.
wc: ~ 3.2k words
Tumblr media
a/n: yk, i find it funny how i always try to make quick drabbles, but somehow it always gets turned in 1k and up fics…….anyways, enjoy!
taglist: @hwasbbyg @velvetmoonlght @blackp1nkfan @gigikubolong29 @solarhwa
Tumblr media
imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s been sexually frustrated for the past few days, grumbling softly to himself. He hops up onto his usual bus route, the one he takes after a dance lesson, with pure agony and dread.
not only is he ticked off at how shitty his sex life’s been going (he was supposed to meet up with a girl tonight, yet she flaked) but now he has to endure a 40 minute long ride back to his home city with a currently dead phone. how annoying.
scuffling down the aisle, he continues to mumble about these facts whilst darting his lower lip out in a pouty way. there wasn’t many people occupying the front section of the bus, and so as he’s getting ready to take a seat nearby, he spots something that makes his whole body go rigid.
you. near the back. staring idly out of the window. hands clasped together, watching the nightly glow from outside. wooyoung cocks his head to the side. what are you doing here? had you always taken this route and he’s never noticed before? but that couldn’t have been the case, surely he would’ve recognized you at some point during his few weeks of riding the bus here and back home.
wooyoung mulls this thought over.
well, knowing you, you’d probably ride all the way back on the dirty bus floor if it meant completely evading him.
he seriously wouldn’t put it past you to do such a thing. the dynamic between you two has always been skewed since the start of university. it’s almost laughable the extreme measures you’ve gone to stay out of his vicinity, though, wooyoung somehow always finds a way to taunt you.
and just like that, his lips form into a crude smile. he knows that you dislike him to no end. he knows you always try to avoid him at all costs. and, yeah, maybe he’s a little crass acting when he’s around you, but you make your hatred towards him so obvious it’s sort of hard not to take advantage of that. hence, the constant teasing courtesy of him.
and yet, he also knows that the work uniform you’re currently wearing is doing wonders for him right now. a pretty pastel dress that stops mid-thigh, with a crisp white collar around your neck. how it curves at your chest so nicely.
the way it cinches your waist, practically sculpting your body in perfect portions that he’s honestly never seen you in such a way before. makes him practically want to start salivating.
imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s just been so damn horny that he’s willing to do anything for a release. a chance to expel some of that pent up stress he’s been feeling, at least what he’s been feeling for tonight.
which is why moments later, you find the vacant spot right next to you now being occupied with a body. a body, that at the recognition of his face, makes you visibly shudder in disgust.
wooyoung wastes no time in sparking up conversation, though it comes off as one-sided with your lack of participation. he wouldn’t expect anything less from you. he deems your cold act towards him something that intrigues him. a challenge almost. and he wants to see you break.
“y/n….you’re so quiet today.” he remarks more towards himself as he watches you closely, “something on your mind?”
you drag the lower part of your lip into your mouth in attempt to distract yourself from this bastard. gosh, does he just get off on messing with you?
at the beacon of silence, wooyoung prompts more questions and even leans in to further accentuate his presence, “yah, you know it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you right? i’m your senior too, so treat me with more respect.”
without turning too much towards him, you partly twist your body and speak quietly. you didn’t wish to cause a scene, “stop it.”
ah, now he’s got you.
“i’m just pointing out that you’re a bad junior. what, does that bother you?” he raises an eyebrow with the question, and in turn has to hide the spreading smile on his face as your body does yet another scootch towards him.
“will you please be quiet?” your somber voice ends with a bite, doing a quick glance over your shoulder.
he digs further, “i’m wanting to talk with my favorite, little y/n, and here you are. acting so cruel to me. really, it’s hurtful-”
“jung. wooyoung.” you snap, shifting once again so you’re currently chest to chest with your classmate. as your gaze bores deeply into his own, you can see a mix of emotions radiating in the center of his pupils.
“yeah?” wooyoung stares you down with a sinister grin, happy to get some sort of reaction out of you.
he isn’t sure how sex deprived he is, but just hearing you say his name already sends a wave of arousal surging through him.
your lip twitches out of annoyance. there’s more words threatening to spill from your tongue, but it’s like nothing wants to come out, so for a moment you're quiet. eyes scattering around, you eventually break eye contact with wooyoung and gaze your attention downwards.
though when you finally avert your eyes, your breath quickly catches when you spot a large lump resting idly within his baggy joggers. a small, 'hip' leaves your throat.
wooyoung follows your eye line, then lets out a soft chuckle once he sees what is you’re gaping at. yeah, sporting a half chub right now probably isn’t the best look. but if he’s being completely honest, he’s getting harder at the fact you’re straight up gawking at him.
“oh, right.” he begins to half-comment, then does a quick peep at you, “this is kinda your fault, just so you know.”
"huh?" skittishly, you go to look at him before turning away as embarrassment floods your skin after getting caught staring.
wooyoung tucks in his lips to suppress an affection grin, him reaching a hand up to tug at your dress. he tries to gain your attention once more, “come on, don’t act stupid.”
he closes the space between you two as he continues to press you for another clapback. in response, you tuck your face into your shoulder and create a shield from him. but, wooyoung’s relentless.
his hand on your dress turns into a hand on your thigh. he grips your flesh with a sing-song voice until you eventually look back at him. as he continues to spew comments, you couldn’t help if your eyes caught a glimpse of the now fully erected bulge protruding through the fabric.
he’s quick to notice this and calls you out on your glances, “you wanna see it or something?”
horror washes over you face. you begin to stammer in protests, asking him why he would say such a thing and that he’s being inappropriate.
a hearty laugh bellows from wooyoung. god, does he find you cute. so dumb, yet so cute. keeping his grasp on you, he begins to slouch further into the bus seat while he spreads his legs out. his knee accidentally knocks into yours just as he rolls his neck in your direction.
“seriously, you want to?” he waits for response but as you go to shake your head, he’s already reaching for your hand, “y/n, i think you’re a fucking perv.”
“w-wooyoung, what the hell?.” you fight to take your hand off of his crotch, but he simply fights right back, keeping a strong hold on your fingers. in no time, he drops your hand on top of his clothed hard-on and forces you to rub him.
"let me go!" you hiss, but the request goes ignored. he’s enjoying your struggle, your combat against him.
in an almost exaggerated manner, he starts to accentuate his hip rolls against your touch. it begins as a joke, with him enjoying your bewildered expression at his actions. but quickly does he start to lavish in the desperate heat he’s been feeling all night, “oh fuck. y/n, you always touch guys like this?”
the nerves in your fingers feel electrified, almost like a buzz when he’s teasing you. the sensation is foreign. you want to scrunch your face in disgust at his gratification. scream help at the other three people who sat towards the front of the bus, oblivious to what’s happening.
however, you can recognize what the worst feeling was. the fact that through it all, a tiny pulse begins to build between your legs. how badly you hated this, you hated him, and yet, that’s the very thing turning you on. what is wrong with you?
the realization of his hard length being dragged against your fingers brings you back, as you start to register the slickness coating your skin. wooyoung darts a tongue out and flings his head back, exposing the vast area of his neck. he’s got a small smile on his face, “go inside my pants.”
“you’re disgusting….” sneering, you glare deeply at the boy who’s simply basking in the pleasure you’re providing. he feels your stare and you watch him slightly tilt his head down, the little hairs on his forehead falling forward.
“do you really think that?” his voices pipes up at the end before giving you a smug look, “you think i’m so bad?”
and right as you go to confirm those thoughts, a quick motion cuts you off. soon, you feel pressure from underneath your dress, then against your underwear; he’s now pressing his fingers on top of your cunt.
“cause if i didn’t know any better,” he removes his hand from your area and decides to shove it in your face, “you fucking like this.”
the movement startles you briefly and it takes a second for your eyes to focus. though as soon as your vision clears, you see wet fingers staring back at you. it causes your breath to hitch, “i don’t.”
“bullshit.” he dives his hand back under your dress, ready to collect more slick, and involuntarily you clasp your thighs around his hand. eyes squeezed shut, the moment contact was made, you’re brimming with sensitivity.
he watches you intensely. now that you have him trapped, he takes the time to start grazing the fabric of your panties, beginning at a leisure pace. wooyoung leans his head close to your ear and starts to murmur, “right. you clearly hate this.”
with each stroke his fingers get wetter. with each massage his dick gets harder, if that’s even possible. and with each rub, he sees your body beginning to relax into his touch. your shoulders droop, your body slouches deeper into him, and he can see your chest heaving up and down lowly. you’re such a liar.
“oh, god.” you mumble, and wooyoung has to stop a groan from leaving him at your current state. you’re succumbing to him so well, so easily. he loves each and every second of this, but he even with this, he understands there’s always more to enjoy.
“alright, y/n, nothing’s free.” he starts to ease up on you, his touches becoming lighter, and he gives you a knowing glance, “come on, let’s go.”
his pelvis raises slightly to draw attention towards his lonely cock, and you could only crane your head slowly towards him. going from his crotch and up to his face, you gaze at him with an expression of reluctancy.
the aching in your cunt is screaming at you to push forward, however, the logistic side of your brain is harshly reprimanding you for even considering. after thinking it over, it’s almost as if your hand began to move on its own, essentially giving into your tempted desires.
you drag your somewhat limp of palm up towards his waistband, slipping past the blue boxer’s he’s sporting, and finally place it onto his bare cock. he’s immediately responsive, sighing as he slowly rocks himself into your palm to create momentary friction.
at his expression, you can’t help the bubble of disgust that’s rising up inside of you, mixing with your feeling of lust. you grip his bulge, he hums in content. you start to slide your hand up and down, he’s staring at you with ever-loving eyes. in just a few tugs, he’s already huffing with breath stuttering. his own pre-cum begins to cover his shaft, and in return you can sense your hand getting drenched.
“you make me sick.” you say in a hushed voice and wooyoung scoffs at your words.
“oh, fuck off. you love it.” he counters as he takes the fingers inside your dress and uses them to shove your underwear off to the side, going back to circling your now unclothed pussy. literal drops of wetness spill from your entrance, and he can feel it spread in every round strokes he’s producing.
you melt like putty at his hand. from the perfect pressure he’s applying to his occasional dips inside. he’s giving your core the desperate assistance it needed from the moment you for first began feeling like this. it’s almost difficult for you to continue with your jerking inside of his pants, but at every moment you begin to slip, wooyoung swiftly reminds you to do a better job.
“you except me to get off with that flimsy hold? grip it like you mean. yah, i said grip it.”
he halts his movements monetarily, creating an ode to himself to not start up again until you do exactly as you’re being told. your eyelids vibrate in irritation, part of you wanting to keep up with the defiance act. yet, you knew if wanted to leave this situation with some sort of pleasure, obeying this ass would be your best option.
you reposition your hand on his cock, then start your motion up once more. wooyoung’s transported back into his bliss, his eyes having difficulty staying opened. his hips involuntarily ruts inside of your grasp, as he tries his best to not blow his load in the confinements of his pants. no, if he’s going to finish, he knew he needed to make it as easy of a clean up as possible.
which is why a few strokes later, from both you to him, and when wooyoung senses your fat pussy clenching particularly hard against his digits, it’s only then he decides to execute the final stage of his self-pleasuring. he also starts to notice the familiar streets and roads of his neighborhood which lets him know his stop is going to be coming up soon.
just as you feel yourself ready to unravel, coldness floods your core you realize wooyoung’s completely removed himself away and is scrambling to get your hand from being trapped in his sweats.
he’s rushing, now, evident of the quick turnaround he has and how his own hand replaces yours inside of his fleeced joggers. with deep breaths and hazy eyes, he drags his look towards your eyes before dropping his gaze down to your full chest.
“fuck, and i didn’t even get to see your tits,” he mumbles quietly to himself, then darts his vision up to you, “you wanna take ‘em out really quick? just enough so i can how sexy they are.”
an apprehensive groan leaves you, nervousness replacing the arousal you were feeling just a few seconds prior. but, you would be lying if you said the desperate look on jung wooyoung’s face wasn’t getting you bothered right now. how he has an expression between wanting to kiss you and wanting to do more swirling in his pupils.
which is why in no time, you’re turning your body away from the front and more toward the boy, as you begin to undo the buttons of your pretty, pink dress. you don’t go all the way down, just enough to expose the matching pink bra you decided to pair with the outfit.
he whimpers softly at the reveal, “oh my- go all the way for me.”
you do as instructed and reaching up towards you breasts, you begin to pull out your mounds and leave them to hang off of your chest. the cool, still air grazes your erected nipples, causing them to be pointed and you almost resist the urge to twirl your fingers between them.
wooyoung’s tugging grows faster, seeing as the way his hand bobs up and down inside his pants. it’s almost as if he forgot he’s wearing clothes, then once he remembered this fact, he’s scrambling to pull his sweatpants and boxers down mid-thigh. you can now see his thick, red cock out in the open, and threatening to spill at any second.
his breathing turns shallow, and wooyoung continues to rub one out. he even goes as far as taking his unoccupied hand and brining it towards your flesh, grabbing a handful of your tit then moving on to playing with your bud. the action causes you to wince and whine, your mouth forming into an ‘o’ with shut eyes.
at hearing your adorable voice, wooyoung loses it. he feels his orgasm getting ready to wash over, but instead of finishing all over himself, he tilts his cock forward and points his head directly at you.
and before you know, ropes of wooyoung’s cum is getting spritzed onto you lap, all over your legs. he’s marking you with his semen, and god is it so much. his ejaculation continues with tiny moans floating from his lips, beating his cock to your horrified look at the whiteness painting you a beautiful shade.
imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s finally had the release he’d been so needy to have all night.
“you’re so good, so damn good.” he says in more of an after thought, finally relieved to have been able to release his frustration, better yet, onto you. he’s still twitching from sensitivity, but that doesn’t stop wooyoung from tucking himself back into his pants and hoisting them up once again. you,still relegate in the fact that you are literally dripping with cum.
just as he’s finishes redressing himself, the bus begins to slow before coming to a stop. you don’t even have time to process what just happened as wooyoung’s quickly grabbing his stuff and standing up, ready to leave. however, he makes sure to leave with parting words before seeing you again at school the next day.
“yah, y/n. take a picture of you in that dress and send it to me.” he quietly asks with up-right corners.
you could only huff out a, ‘fine’. eliciting anything more would’ve taken far too much effort and right now, you were upset at the lack of pleasure for yourself. wooyoung softly laughs at your response but before he fully exits, he dips his head down to place a gentle kiss on your cheek.
he gives you one more smile and a, “now we can cross this one off of the list,” then in a flash he’s gone and off the bus, disappearing into the night.
it’s weird. the relationship between you two.
one minute he’s annoying the absolute reckon out of you, the next he’s placing soft pecks against your skin. you still hated him, and everything he did. his actions that somehow always left you in a perplexed state.
however, maybe what you hated most, was not the crude, antagonizing jokes, but rather the flutter your heart does at the remembrance of his lips lightly on your cheek after each and every encounter.
Tumblr media
552 notes · View notes
nouvxllev · 7 months ago
Note
CLINGYGRUMPYJENNA X READER!!
plsplsplsplspls
Summary: Co-workers in public, lovers in private 🙌🏼, while shooting for Wednesday, J gets really stressed, and craves for R's intimacy, but can't have that yet until break of dawn, so J basically gets sooo annoyed with anyone who tries talking to her that isn't R.
the waiting game
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader
Summary: request!! ^^
Words: 4.8k
Warnings: fluf, grumpy & clingy jenna!
a/n: caught basically the nastiest cold for a whole week, but im back! sorry requests taking too long, tryna to balance everything rn but it all will be done soon!!!!
masterlist.
Tumblr media
Jenna hasn’t seen you in almost 4 hours, 36 minutes, and 4 fucking seconds. 
Yes, she counted, yes, it’s still ongoing, and, yes, she could almost murder someone with her bare hands if time even dares to pass by without you.
What makes matters worse is that she's terribly sleep-deprived even with someone's arms wrapped around her night after night.
Of course, the aforementioned someone swirling in her head 24/7 is you. Her not-quite-lover in public but entirely her beloved behind closed doors.
If Jenna had it her way, she would’ve jumped off a building by now and hard-launched the both of you by herself just so she could get hugs, kisses, and your hand intertwined with hers all she wanted.
Obviously, the universe decides to be a stuck-up bitch just now in their 14 billion years of life, wanting nothing more than to see Jenna Marie Ortega suffer without having you.
But it's fine.
She could get through this.
If there's someone in the world that could handle a single day without your warm hugs and lovely kisses, whether it be on the cheek or the lips, it would be her. She didn't endure almost half a year seeing that godforsaken Wednesday dance to go completely insane without you.
— Is what she kept telling herself 30 seconds earlier before she broke down and almost turned to witchcraft if you don't appear in front of right her.
She could push through with it, like she always does. It's a simple routine that never got the best of her.
Wake up and have breakfast with the love of your life while prepping each other with kisses and whatnot, run to set for the both of you to act out a scene for a while, when break hits all Jenna has to do is intertwine her pinky with yours under the table, then do hair and makeup after, act out a scene then wrap it all up, lie to everyone for the 100th time that her house is just a few steps away from yours, hit a bakery on the way home or maybe an ice cream shop if Jenna feels peckish, break down the apartment door Jenna shares with you, run to the bedroom, and smother each other with kisses and cuddles. Maybe a makeout session if Jenna's lucky.
It's bliss then repeat.
But today just so happens to be the day that Jenna takes over the whole episode, doing stunts and everything with little to no cuts for side characters.
She'd think that you would have nothing to do than act out your scenes—with her—might she add and it'll be all fine and the nights she'd spent waking up at 3 in the morning would be all's well.
But no, unfortunately you were the epitome of the perfect person and everyone just has to drag you around to who knows where to deal with some difficulties.
Plus, the both of you woke up late so she didn't even get the full girlfriend treatment she always got in the morning.
It was completely unfair!
Jenna was tired, grumpy, a bit too snappy, desperate for your attention, and she misses you. Alot.
And by that she means she misses the way you would wrap your arms around her after a busy day of filming together, pull her close, and feel the way how her lips fits perfectly on yours.
She would've dragged you back to bed and cuddle with you if she knew what was about to happen. Every second not spent with you is absolutely meaningless in her book.
Unfortunately, she has to play the waiting game.
She's fucking losing it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was 11 PM on a Thursday night.
Jenna is really so fucking tired, she could almost snap.
She had almost endured five to six hours of you nowhere even near her. The most she even interacted with you on set was when the both of you were acting a scene then abruptly got cut because of technical difficulties.
Plus, everyone but you was talking to her as if she was some kind of star! (she is.)
Jenna almost wished for an accident, or maybe a wardrobe malfunction that leads her to discovering some sort of new allergy about herself, just so she could be rushed off to the hospital and have you fussing over her, then maybe you could hold her hand and kiss her as if she would heal.
"How's it going, Ree—"
"Literally, I mean this in the nicest way possible, shut the fuck up Georgie."
He doesn't respond immediately, his eyes wide open as he steps back in surrender with his hands up in the air. "Ooooohkay!"
The brunette's head shot up immediately, her eyes burning and her shoulders slumped as she sank further into her chair for what felt like the millionth time.
"I... I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry." She closed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples, "I'm doing fine." She reassured herself more than anyone else, gripping the armchair for support.
"Biggest lie ever."
"You caught in Jenna's crossfire too, Emma?
"Oh damn, even Moosa?"
As if on cue, the whole cast decides to join in the damn conversation. Jenna loved them all, really, but it would've been so much better if a certain someone also joined and not far off into the distance talking to one of the editors.
Come on, would it literally kill you to question yourself why half of the cast was surrounding practically the love of your life while you're standing like 10 feet away!?
"You seem tense, J."
"Something wrong?"
"You've been staring at us for an hour with that Kubrick Stare of yours."
Who's exactly talking to her? Georgie, Emma, Moosa, it's all in that order but their voices seemed deranged, and it couldn't be any more worse when she's been trying to catch your eye for what seemed like the past hour.
She couldn't take shit when she's horribly missing you. So, she bites, and raises her voice more than she should, "Should I close my eyes to spare you the terrible fucking horror? Fuck, man!"
Jenna let an exasperated sigh escape from her mouth as she rose to her feet, eyeing the group with probably the most intense stare someone could bear witness to. She half-expected she'd get another pain-in-the-ass comeback from atleast one of them, but she was met with unusual silence.
The three look practically horrified, as if they were seeing the fictional idea of Wednesday Addams in the form of a 5'1, 22 year old woman dressed as her. Like they have the small but terrible quote running gears in their heads.
She heard them in unison muttering quiet apologies, "Sorry, Jenna…"
Her mind told her to forgive them for whatever they did, but her heart told her y/n.
"No, no it's fine." The brunette shook her head, her words forming icicles on each synonym and her eyes were like seeing inside of a storm. Without the peaceful atmosphere of an eye, clearly. "I'm just... stressed. Is Y/n free?"
Emma tilted her head to the side, "Actually, I never really saw them that much today, no?" She exchanged glances with the both of them.
"Heard they're busy with the tech team," Georgie crossed his arms, "Even for an actor, they've got a skill to be a director with how familiar they are behind the scenes."
Moosa nodded in agreement, "Yeah, they've been pretty tied up with all the technical stuff lately. Must be exhausting."
For fuck sakes, why did you have to be the most perfect and talented goddamn person?
"Why you looking for them?"
Jenna definitely did not need another goddamn voice entering her goddamn space.
She could almost roll her eyes and flip everybody off if not for Joy and the others being the most precious co-stars of them all.
"Because!" Jenna exclaimed, her voice cracking while lifting her arms in the air, "Y/n's my fucking lov...-"
Oh, shit.
"Lov...?"
"...Lovely neighbor." She blinked. "They... They bake me some cookies whenever I get in a bad mood."
Oh to fucking hell with this lovers in private bullshit. Lovely neighbor, that was the best damn excuse she could come up with?
"Well, heard they went home early because of an emergency, but it's kinda pouring out—"
It was in Jenna and Jenna alone on how insanely and horrifyingly fast she bolted out of the conversation, quickly changed clothes, thanking to the literal heavens (fuck the universe, Jenna will die on this hill) that Tim wrapped up early.
Josh. Josh was always the one you manage to bring up to be one of the most carefree guys in set, it's certain that he knew wherever the fuck you went. Actually, you always looked so happy whenever you talked to her about Josh and how much he lends with whatever left over set pieces they had, it's almost insane that you were—
"Aliyah, I'd tell you to shut up and fuck off as of this moment but I am literally too tired to even say that, what!?"
"Jenna, where the hell is your hoodie you wore on Christmas Eve!? I literally told you like an hour before your half-assed reply to tell me where'd you put your clothes."
Of course her sisters, more specifically Aliyah Goddamn Ortega, would find the most perfect timing to call her about the stupidest shit there could ever be.
"Okay, now, fuck off."
Jenna grimaced through gritted teeth as she hung up. She loved her sister, but does she love you more? Absolutely.
"Josh!" She called out, running towards him, "Sorry, kind of abrupt, but do you know where Y/n went?" Atleast she had some decency left in her to be polite to some.
"Actually—"
"Let one more word come out of your mouth not related to my question, and I swear, Josh—"
"Y/n left early, they told me to tell you but I guess I forgot."
Maybe a little too carefree.
"You fucking guess!?— I mean, yes, thank you. I’ll be going."
Oh, the waiting game is a pain in the ass.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You pace back and forth in Jenna's apartment, your socks making a dent in the fuzzy carpet in the living room Jenna bought when you moved in with her, a nail in between your teeth and rain pouring in the background.
How in the hell did you forget possibly all your devices on fucking set!?
Your phone was dead, and your laptop was unfortunately abandoned by its owner (yours truly) and you have no way of contacting your lovely girlfriend.
And worse of all, it was a little over midnight.
All this because you got a notification that someone was at the door for an hour.
And it was just a fucking cat. (To be fair, they were really cute.)
You were starting to worry, especially how it was pouring outside like there was a hurricane incoming and how you left early without Jenna intertwining her warm and soft hands around yours.
So not only did you leave all your devices behind, but you also left Jenna without any means of contacting you.
You almost cursed yourself, maybe even doing the most stupidest and financially unstable decision of ordering a new phone as if it was going to be delivered same day.
Until you heard a slight click and a door opening.
There were times thunder struck, but it definitely did not beat the way your heart almost leaps into your throat as you hear the door opening.
You pause in your steps, a deep breath stuck in your mouth as you cross the living room and peer through the door way.
The door swung open and you're met with the, one of the most gorgeous and relieving sights you may add, of Jenna standing there. Slightly damp and with an... angry? Expression on her face.
"Jenna!" You blurted out, rushing over to her and enveloping her in a tight hug. "Did Josh fill you in? I feel terrible for getting home early, I'm so sorry. There was this whole thing I had to deal with, then the rain came pouring down, and I thought I'd at least get you a cab—"
"Shh. Just stay still. And preferably quiet."
When she's in your arms, she melts in the warmth of the comfort you bring to her. "Guess you caught the cab." You whisper under your breath.
You notice her breathing slowing down, the tension in her body easing away, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she buries her head in your neck. A sway the both of you took upon as she tugged at your chest with her hands wrapped around your body.
Jenna felt and smelled like home. Maybe heaven really is real if you're back in her arms after death.
"Is everything okay? Did something go down on set while I was away? Oh, Jenna, I'm so—" You start to pull back, placing your hands on her shoulders.
"Y/n, push me away, I fucking dare you, I'll bring down hell upon this godforsaken world."
You hesitate, but her gaze wants nothing more than to be in your arms. Who were you to deny her?
With a gentle squeeze of her shoulders, you pull her back into your arms. You weren't much taller than Jenna, in fact, just an inch or two apart. You loved that about eachother, like the two of you were a perfect fit.
Minutes pass, the only sound of the soft rhythm of Jenna's breathing and your heartbeat became a melody to your ears.
"I'm gonna hard launch the both of us right fucking now."
Well, that definitely caught you off-guard.
"Something happened?"
"You weren't on set for like hours! And everyones got too damn annoying for my ears to even process so I was trying to look for you, but then I ended up insulting Emma and the others, then I called you my lovely neighbor because I almost ended up saying you're my lover so I had to cover for it!"
"...That's quite a handful. I'm sorry I wasn't there, baby."
Even so, you knew that Jenna wasn't ready for a public relationship, not now that everyone was currently holding her at a social and cyber gunpoint with her life.
And even back then, you were the first one in the relationship who told her that the both of you would be better off if they both kept it private.
Even from their friends... And maybe more so families. Or maybe Jenna's. It's pretty hard to keep secrets from her family.
Obviously, look how that turned out.
Finally, Jenna murmurs something. "Sorry. It's been a rough day." Then she adds, almost as an afterthought, "Just without you."
You could almost kill yourself of the mere thought of even having to leaving Jenna the whole day.
"I—"
"Don't worry, I know you were busy with tech."
"Yeah. They got me wrapped up in their troubles, but 's all fine."
"Ever thought beating the complete shit out of them?"
"Jenna, you can't just say that!"
"But they've been literally hogging you from me! And I think that's completely unfair!"
"But you really shouldn't. You'd probably end up getting destroyed, especially with your height."
"Oh, but I definitely should. Besides, we're the same height, Y/n."
You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Okay, you know what, tempting as it sounds, I don't think violence is the answer."
She scoffs another time, a crease in her forehead. "Well, it's definitely an option worth considering."
After a moment of silence, you carry her to the living room, her legs dangling as you lift her from her feet and settle her onto the soft-cushioned couch.
You start to pull away once you set her down, stretching your body after a tense day, yet a certain someone was making grabby hands for you while shooting a look with her eyes begging you to stay.
"Y/n, don't you want to stay here with me?" She pulls you closer, locking her legs around yours.
Oh, Jenna knows damn well you couldn't resist her.
"Jenna, just relax," you gently tug her legs apart with your own, letting them fall as she permits, "I'll just get you some water."
She tugs at the hem of your shirt, "Then I'll come with!" Her smile almost comes back alive and she's already clinging onto your arm.
"Jenna. The love of my life."
"Y/n?"
"You're tired, stressed, snappy, grum—"
"Okay, I am not grumpy or snappy!" Jenna bites back almost immediately. "Why does everybody keep saying that?"
You shoot her a look. A yup-thats-why-look, and it's enough to get a pout to form on her lips.
"Grumpy, and you're still damp from the rain. I wouldn't be surprised if you wake up with a cold in the morning." You gently pat her head before sitting her back down. "I'll be quick, alright? You know I'm not going far just for a glass of water."
"Fine," Jenna huffs, "But you better hurry back! Ten seconds, tops!"
With a smile playing on your lips, you roll your eyes before making your way to the kitchen. And of course, Jenna's gaze from the couch was following you. You know patience was never Jenna's strong suit when it comes with you.
It wasn't even a few seconds before you heard,
"Y/nnnn!" Jenna's voice calls out from the living room, almost sounding like a groan and a whine.
It's almost amusing how someone as seemingly nonchalant yet sweet as Jenna could also be this puddle of affection and clinginess when it came to you.
You chuckle to yourself before quickly making your way back to her, holding out the glass of water for her.
"That was well over ten seconds." Jenna remarks, downing the water in one go before setting the glass on the coffee table. Then, she pulls you back towards her, and before you know it, you're both collapsing onto the couch.
"Well, I thought I did great." You say before Jenna tackles you into a very tight hug.
Leaning back against the cushions, you let out a sigh, feeling the everything slowly melting away when she's in your arms. Jenna inches closer, resting her head on your chest as you wrap an arm around her, holding her close.
"Hug me tighter, y/n." She murmurs softly, almost demanding if she didn't have a soft melody to her voice, her body warm against yours and her breathing seemed to be in sync with your own.
"You'll die if I do." You sigh contentedly.
Jenna lets out a huff, her breath warm against your skin and her scent was all too comforting. That earthy rain smell and her aromatic fragrance. "You know that I don't mind," she replies, "Of course you'd think I'd care if I died in your arms."
You laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, Jenna." You shake your head once against, ruffling her hair as you give her an extra squeeze before loosening your hold slightly to let her breathe.
"You want dinner?" You whisper to her after, not even above a decibel just for her to relax. "I didn't get the chance to stop by at the bakery."
"Please," comes Jenna's response.
You know what a full-on smile with dimples from her sounds and feels like when she has that hopeful and happy tune to her otherwise grumpy voice today.
You slowly pull yourself back up, gently pushing Jenna off your chest. And also unknowingly pulling a koala trapped in a 5'1, 22 year old body named Jenna Ortega clinging onto your back.
"Jenna."
She buries her head into the crook of your neck, eyes half-lidded. "Mmm… Yeah?" It's honestly surprising how she can actually and literally attach herself to you.
"Jenna, you have to let go so I can cook." Even as you ask her to release herself, you adjust to her weight on your back, carefully making your way to the kitchen, your hands securely holding onto her legs.
"You can cook just fine, Y/n," she whines, "You have two arms."
"And you," you reply, gently patting her legs, "have two legs and two arms. I can't cook with you piggybacking, baby."
You can tell the nickname made her smile. "Yeah, but I don't have a built-in Y/n in my system that I can cuddle with all day. So please just let me be."
"No, Jenna—You're gonna get hurt."
You reach the kitchen and gently lower Jenna from her back, setting her down on the kitchen island.
Her arms still lingered around your neck for a moment before she reluctantly, and against her will so it seems, lets go. "You know how frantic I am when I cook."
"Then maybe, you're not a good cook."
"I'm trying to keep my girlfriends, which is you, may I add, life out of harms way."
"Maybe that's the reason why you're not a good cook."
"Jenna."
Grabby hands, once again, making a return and tugging you by your shirt collar. But this time, you resist.
"Whyyyyyyy?" she whines, her bottom lip jutting out in a Jenna Ortega fashionable pout. "Do you hate me, Y/N?"
You roll your eyes playfully before booping her on the tip of her nose. "I'm cooking you a meal to show that I love you, baby." You pull back yourself and put on an apron standing off side to the fridge, Jenna's gaze could almost burn holes into the fabric.
"Okay." She sighs, dropping her head down. "Okay, fine! Can I just hold your hand?" She looks up to see you standing in front of her, wearing the cutest apron with the well-known kiss the chef quote.
A faint blush spreads across her freckled face, and you couldn't help but smile at her.
You can't really cook with one hand that properly. But if Jenna wants you to cook for her even if you had your hands surgically removed from your body, then so fucking be it. A few missing limbs can't top a few smiles from your girlfriend.
"Alright, baby." You place take her hand and lead her to the stove where it seemed like you've got everything prepared. "Just get behind me when there's oil splashing, mkay?"
A few minutes pass by with Jenna's hand in yours while you cook. Her head leans against your shoulder as she stands close.
Between the two of you, Jenna was always the one who takes over the cooking part of the relationship, no matter how much you insist cooking for her. But you're grateful and very fortunate now that she's allowing you to take over. Plus, Jenna keeps you entertained with her witty remarks and random stuff about her day.
Oh, what a life you're living in.
"You didn't cook for yourself?" Jenna's voice interrupts your thoughts as you plate a serving of salmon topped with herbs, accompanied by sliced lemon and a few kiwis. With the skin left on, of course, just how she likes it. Only for your loving girlfriend.
You shake your head, taking her hand and her plate in the other, leading her to the dining table. "I'm good. I had a late lunch earlier," you reply, gently placing the plate on the table and sitting her down. "Besides, it's not often I get to cook for you. It wouldn't be as special if I cooked for myself too."
Jenna's eyes almost appear teary as she looks at you. "Please never show yourself again in public. I seriously cannot lose you." She replied almost immediately.
If you didn't miss it, you would've seen the adoration and love shining in Jenna's gaze. It's as if she wants to ditch the meal entirely and cover your face with kisses.
You swear you probably ate a seed in your chest by how you kept feeling warmth bloom in your heart at her. "How can I do that if I'm an actor?" You chuckle, "They'd probably question you first if I disappear."
Jenna takes her fork and points it at you, slicing a piece of salmon with her spoon. "Hey, I've seen the tweets about people practically drooling over you. It's like they're your lover and not mine!"
You crease your forehead, crossing your arms, "You get more thirst tweets more than I do!"
"And I believe you contribute to that percentage." She raises one eyebrow, smirking at your direction before chewing on another piece of salmon. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
A factual one at that.
You almost choke at your own words. "Oh, you know me so well."
A sigh escapes your lips, your smile still in place. "Besides, we're not exactly public, are we?" Leaning in, you draw Jenna into your own little world. "You're the only one who gets the real me. If I leave, I'll cross my heart on my own and I'll die on my own."
Jenna looks at you while taking a bite of her salmon, chewing slowly as if she's contemplating something, a tug in her lips. "Mn, guess so."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You'd think you'd get some work done, maybe memorize future scripts or send out some emails to directors asking if you could audition for a show at one in the morning.
Instead, you're lying in bed with Jenna.
Or maybe a koala in this case.
In bed. Blankets over the both of you. Pillow's a bit too comfy to even think about getting up. Plus, the koala in question may or may not have hidden your phone and charger.
Jenna wasn't always a light sleeper. Sometimes, you'd wake up in the middle of the night to find her sitting up with a blanket draped over her entire body, furiously typing away in her notes app. It's endearing, but also makes you wonder if she's ever dabbled in witchcraft.
Now, she's wide awake to even be one.
Her eyes closed and her breathing steady enough to lull you asleep. The atmosphere is cozy, and so is your girlfriend laying atop of you.
Her arms were wrapped around yours for the millionth time while her head rests on her favorite part of your chest, her head staring off to the side as if she's trying to hear your heartbeat.
You thought she'd be passed out after dinner, but she dragged you by the cuffs of your hoodie and lead you to the bedroom.
"Jenna," you whisper not above even the slightest decibel, "I have work to do." The gentle rise and fall of her chest steadies in sync with yours, her head tilting slightly in the other way, and the grip she has on your body suddenly got tighter. It's already as if you'll fly away from her.
She huffs as she raises her head to face yours. "Your work—whatever that is—can wait, but I can’t." The room is dim, too dim, yet you could see the slight dip in her bottom lip.
You know you should focus, but with her so close, it's hard to think about anything else other than, 'Nah, fuck it. I'll live.'
You bring your hands up to cup her cheeks, gently brushing her messy fringe away from her face. Even in this dim light, you could see her freckles scattered across her face like vines making something so abandoned a painting.
Jenna sighs when she looks at you. "Y/n, how long are you gonna keep me playing the waiting game?"
"The waiting game? What even is that—"
"Can you kiss me?"
Oh. Her eyes become almost second nature to her words.
"Because I remember being woken up to the most gorgeous person ever but they didn't give me kisses, and I think—mpmhmmh..."
It took all your effort not to pull her into a kiss.
Obviously, your efforts were in vain.
Truth be told, you miss the way her lips hung on yours, she was perfect in every way. How her arms would wrap around you, how she'd reach up to tug on your jawline, tracing every thing you had offered her, how you would push back only for her to pull you closer.
The kiss soon ended with you and Jenna locking eyes. No words exchanged but the heavy breath the both of you took apart from eachother.
"—I think I might die..." Her words are breathless, her arms perfectly secured around your neck as you sit up.
You smile at her. "Well, I kept you alive, didn't I?"
"No," she breathes, taking hold of your cheeks before sitting up herself. "No, I'm still six feet underground if you don't continue what you were doing."
"You know, I'm starting to like the waiting game."
"Make me play that shit again, it'll be the last time you'll ever make a decision."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
jennaortega
Tumblr media
Liked by ememyers and 1,398,938 others jennaortega goodnight to my gorgeous gorgeous girl @.y/l/n x 6 hours ago
natalieortega1: My fav girls!
joysunday: what lovely neighbors we have here
ememyers: !?@#%%#?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
user: WE FUCKING KNEW IT
moosa_mostafa_: we never knew....
user: MY??????? MY???????? WHAT MY WHY MY?????????????????????
user: now how long....
georgieebleu: the coolest ever
user: WHATS IT FINNA PLAY??????
naomijogawa: two losers having a loser rs
user: having a heart attack holYHIST WHAT HT FUCK
user: literally stop.
hunterdoohan: Respect!!!!
user: shit so insane she got the whole cast to comment
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In short, Jenna won. Plus, she got all the kisses and cuddles she wanted until the alarm hit. (When it did, your name was surprisingly all over social media along with Jenna.)
997 notes · View notes
sanakimohara · 4 months ago
Text
[ CHERRY POPPER ] H. H.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ A/N ]: A redo because I refuse to let this account flop!
[ SUMMARY ]: request; “Shy/quiet/innocent/virgin (idc which one) reader texting bsf felix (or whoever you choose) about having a crush on hyunjin, and him seeing it and deciding to do something about it (nsfw?)…” - anonn
[ PLAYLIST ]:
[ WARNINGS ]: NSFW + SMUT + MDNI + PERV HYUNJIN + FEM READER + VIRGIN READER
Tumblr media
Cherry Popper Hyunjin hardly believes anything Felix says when he's drunk. However, he pays more attention when the younger rambles about you - one of the many friends he’s made in the first year of college. You’ve met him more than once, and despite matching Felix’s hyperactive personality, you seem oddly shy around him. You talk quite a lot, but the instant Hyunjin makes his presence known, you zip your lips and cave in on yourself like the world is swallowing you whole. According to Felix, you’re a homebody by nature, and you never go out unless he drags you by the hand and promises to be a buffer between you and the hazards of socializing with strangers. You’re deeply in love with playing old vinyl records to dance to, read, or sleep. Felix thinks you’re old-fashioned and too old of a soul to understand his modern references and jokes, but Hyunjin envisions you differently. He notices the flutter of your lashes when you look at someone speaking, your patience, and your sweetness. He listens to your giggle when Felix reminds you to stop dazing off randomly, asking what’s on your mind. You nearly tune him out when Hyunjin is around
Cherry Popper Hyunjin admires the blush on your cheeks as a smirk tug at his lips, watching relief wash over your face when he stays silent and diverts Felix’s curiosity elsewhere. You're too adorable not to help out of an awkward situation, and that gracious smile on your face goes straight to his head.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin poured Felix two more glasses of soju, pushing him to the point of drunken oblivion, enduring his endless joking until he slumped on the couch and completely dozed off with his phone lying face down on his chest. Hyunjin debated whether to take it or not, knowing that Felix rarely minded when he or their other shared companions used his phone for a quick search on the internet or to text another acquaintance. However, neither option was on his mind when he finally plucked the device from Felix’s limp hand.
One peek at your messages wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin does more than scan over your texts with Felix. He sits up straighter on the couch, reading them with shameless interest. Your messages paint a wild picture of what you think of him, and he can't get enough of reading it. When Felix brings up Hyunjin, you gush, brushing off his obvious prying to know if you like the older. He stands, restless and buzzing with alcohol-induced energy, as he scans higher into the conversation. He abruptly stops when a particular section catches his eye.
“I mean, yeah, I’m a virgin, but there’s nothing wrong with that, right?..”
Cherry Popper Hyunjin sinks his teeth into his bottom lip harder than he meant to, pants tightening around his crotch as the word echoes in his head.
Virgin virgin virgin…
She’s a fucking virgin…
Cherry Popper Hyunjin shuts his eyes, locking Felix’s phone again before letting a sigh so long his chest burns from the gradual lack of air. No wonder you couldn’t even look him in the eye when he greeted you. It all made sense why you’d keep your legs closed no matter your position. The apparent stares you raked over him when you thought he wasn’t looking had a purpose. He could only begin to imagine what happened in your pretty head when he was around.
Why did those big eyes of yours gloss over so quickly when he spoke to you, barely touched you, paid attention to you?
Did you touch yourself to the thought of him, working yourself up with the fleeting interactions you two had, covering those same pretty fingers he’d feel on his back when you hugged him in your slick?
Hyunjin hoped you did, and he could imagine you doing it for him on command like any desperate and painfully infatuated girl would when their innocent crush spiraled into desire. You just had to be that cutest whore, all alone in your room or wherever you could manage it, pleasuring yourself to keep from making a complete mess in your panties the next time you saw him.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin presses his head back into the nearest wall dragging his consciousness from the fantasies of you and your virgin cunt and into distorted logic. He sets Felix’s phone aside, carefully rising from his seat, double checking that the blonde doesn’t stir awake before snatching the fourth half-full bottle of Soju off the coffee table. One sip numbs his tongue again, and a second steels his overconfidence as he strides down the hall towards Felix’s room. You’ve been asleep there for at least an hour, tired from trying to keep up with either of them in a drinking game and needing to wind down alone before joining them again. Felix believed you, growing childishly but waving you off as you scampered to his room, leering out drunken giggles as he shouted for you not to search for his gaming snacks when you arrived. Hyunjin suspected different of your excuse to leave their company. You couldn’t sit still; you sat between him and Felix, who regularly ended up on the floor, leaving you closer to him instead. Twice, he’d brushed his hand over your thigh. First, by accident, after handing you a bottle to open, and second, on purpose, when you leaned into him in a fit of laughter, Felix droned on about a professor you hated. You barely flinched from his touch, laughter dying down immediately, and your head resting on his shoulder as you stared at him dreamily.
“Am I too close?..”
Cherry Popper Hyunjin noticed your mischievous smile and the wheels turning in your head as you whispered your question. His cheeky smile made it clear that your inquiry was far from innocent, and it seemed like you were successfully breaking down his defenses. Without much thought, he glanced at your lips and, in a calm voice, said, "No. Come a little closer if you want... I don’t bite." It was an invitation, and you seemed poised to accept it until Felix suddenly sat up from the floor. Nervous, you shifted away from Hyunjin, redirecting your attention to the younger member, who was too drunk to notice the blush on your cheeks.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin dwells on the interaction even after you slam Felix’s bedroom door shut, the sound of its lock never echoing from the hall, and he’s grateful to find the doorknob twists in his grasp now.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin shuts the door behind him as quietly as possible, eyes fixed on your sleeping form splayed across the bed. The puffed sleeves of your vintage printed romper sliding off your shoulder, high-waisted jean shorts riding up when you snuggle closer to the covers, and your dark red thigh stockings unmoved despite your tossing and turning. Hyunjin watches, tongue slipping out to catch the taste of alcohol on his lips as he eyes the way your back arches as you huff in restless frustration. It’s been a laughable sight to anyone else: your commitment to comfortably lay in the oddest position, but Hyunjin couldn’t imagine a better advantage for himself. You groan quietly, muttering in your sleep, but not audibly aware of another person moving around the room. The soft clink of a bottle on Felix’s gaming desk is distant. The shuffle of feet nearing the end of his bed was even quieter. And the sound of a belt unbuckling is comparable to white noise in your head. You can’t be bothered to startle awake in the middle of a reoccurring dream, caught up in tracking the details of what a specific cock would feel like plundering your insides, and intoxicated enough to be drooling over the thought with a fulfilled smile etching its way onto your face.
“Hyun…Jin…”
Cherry Popper Hyunjin isn’t startled to hear you moan his name sleepily, partially focused on the noticeable wet patch forming on your shorts, a thin line of arousal dripping from the fabric with every subtle rut of your hips. He glances at your expression, lazily smiling, when you crack an eye-opening in the middle of your deep sleep. You see him through a haze, not entirely sure if he’s real, but too tired to find out and too drunk to stop the giggle that flies from your mouth when his eyes narrow at you playfully. “Dreaming of me?”
Cherry Popper Hyunjin doesn’t expect you to respond, but you do. You give him a nod, eyes fluttering closed again as you mumble into the pillow clutched in your arms. “Can’t help it…”
Cherry Popper, Hyunjin knows you’re halfway conscious when he puts his hands on your hips, fingers pressing into the waistband of your jeans just enough to get a whine out of you before he hooks them under the material and pulls it down your half-cover thighs and completely off to land on the floor at his feet. You do nothing but sigh in relief, feeling the coarse fabric peel away from your naked pussy, shivering when the air sweeps over your wet folds and gasping as the warmth of his hand cups it. Hyunjin chuckles, stunned to see you void of panties, to begin with, and glad to have one more thing out of his way. He wasn’t too far off with his assumption of you being a secretive slut, your slick coating his fingers as they gently glided back and forth across your sex. “T-that feels…so-“ you cut yourself off, whining into the pillow as the rings on his fingers make excellent impressions against your inner folds, the tips of his index brushing right over your clit as if to flick it but never pressing down. He groans, watching your hips begin to roll, tentative and slow, thighs quivering each time his fingers barely slip into your tight entrance.
“Good…I know, sweetheart…I know,” he finishes the phrase for you, eyes lowering to fun dripping down your legs and trickling around his wrist.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin sets his crotch against your raised backside, needing to be as close as humanely possible to you the moment he sinks his middle finger past your soaked folds. You shudder violently, wanting to run from the singular and slow intrusion of one of his fingers as it barely disrupts your untouched hymen. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?..” he coos into your ear, wrapping his freed arm around your waist to keep you from entirely collapsing into the bed as you whimper loudly. The pillow you grip muffled the sound, withholding the string of desperate moans you let out, feeling him slide his index in, adding pressure and strain to your tight walls as you clench down on both his fingers. “Too…too m-much…’ mmm,” you whine in defeat, clawing at the covers as he nuzzles his nose behind your ear, a drunken gesture of comfort translating into a chaste kiss you shiver at. “You can take it, baby…you need to, or you’ll never be able to take my whole cock..” Hyunjin feigns disappointment; lips pressed into a frown, which you only glimpse before your eyes roll in pleasure. His fingers curl forward with intent, reaching for unfamiliar nerves in your cunt repeatedly, and you groan as they find their mark several times. “What are you?…H-hyunjin, what are you d-doing?..” you pant, hips buckling against his hand as he plunges his fingers deeper and deeper, exploring your pussy for all it is.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin gets lost in the feeling of your walls swallowing his fingers whole, the ridge of his bulky rings sliding against your insides so quickly he was sure they’d slip off from how wet you’d made them. Your constant writhing and grinding on his hand caused your ass to press back into him consistently. His cock twitched every time, solid against his thigh and unbearably sensitive. Your moans coming quicker, louder, more forcefully as your insides curled with heat worsened his patience. You were so close; he could feel the strain in your cunt building, how sloppy your walls had become around his fingers, cum drenching them and pooling on his palm. You breathed heavily, your head lifted inches from the pillow, your eyes watered, and your lips fell into a dreamy smile.
“More…please…more Hyunie…” you plead quietly, stomach doing flips as your drowsy state shifts into pure joy. “Want more…”
Cherry Popper Hyunjin forgets the idea of seeing you cum on his hand, the effects of drinking for two hours straight and seeing you on all fours, begging, cunt sufficiently spread to his liking all twisting a knot in his gut he knew one way of unraveling. “Fuck this..” he snaps, drawing his hand away, jaw locked to surprise a self-serving smile as he hears you whine pathetically, unwrapping his arm from your waist to pin you on your side. “Hyunie…!” You squeak in surprise, face flushed as you stare up at him in wonder, strands of your hair sticking to your sweaty cheeks. He says nothing to you at first, hands grasping your ankles and pulling until your right leg gingerly rests on his shoulder while the other is pinned to the bed. His nails dig into the cherry red stockings wrapped around your left thigh, hand pressing it firmly against the covers at an angle that leaves your pussy wide open for his view.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin causally glides his right hand into his pants, staring fixed on your awed face as he frees his cock. Seeing the phallic muscle up close and personal, your eyes widen, how it fits perfectly when he runs his hand up and down the slender girth. A low whine tickles your throat, watching him pump the leaking tip, adding to the slick you left on his fingers and trickling down onto his pants when he lets go to grip your right hip. “Mmm…mph…” you shift away from it, a fearful haze in your eyes as he holds you still and nudges the fleshy head of his cock to your puffy and slick folds. “‘ts N-not going to fit-“ you start to protest, a little afraid of having more than his two fingers buried in you.
Dreaming about it and feeling it was a contrast you’d barely begun to conceptualize until now.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin slaps your thigh, a gentle infliction of pain that draws your eyes back up to his face, “If it’s too much, I’ll stop, but…” he trails off, gaze lowering as he presses his hips forward, gently plunging the head of his cock past your folds. You swallow a moan, back arching as he inches in a bit more, hips rocking at a controlled pace, and his voice quiet but steady as he continues, “You’ll try to take all of it for me, yeah? Give me all of your pretty little pussy before anyone else has it like a good girl?..”
You nod eagerly, eyes fluttering, mouth agape as breathy moans fall from it. “Y-yes…Hyunie...”
Cherry Popper Hyunjin exhales heavily, hearing you confess so quickly, eyes stuck on the view of your creamy folds spreading open around his shaft as he sinks into you. A swift gasp leaves you as he fills you up with a solid rut of his hips. The base of his cock firmly placed against your swollen clit, a burning stretch quickly fading in your walls as he barely pulled back before plunging in again, adding an inch to his detachment with every thrust until you could take his cock with minimal resistance.
“So full…” you exhale, damp thighs trembling each time he snaps his hips down into yours. Another coil pulled tight in your stomach the instant his head nudged your sweet spot, every ride of his cock brushing past the sensitive nerves you were beginning to realize could have a mind of their own.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin raises his head, proud to see your eyes clouded over and drool dripping from the corner of your lips. Your breasts beg to slip from your top, nipples perky against the thin cream fabric, and reach a hand to palm one. You arch into his touch more, head pressing back into the pillow, drag your top down to free them both, tossing your leg off his shoulder to fix your posture underneath and give him the freedom to lean over you wholly.
Cherry Popper Hyunjin stops your hands before they reach him, sliding his fingers through yours and pulling your hands above your head as he lowers to your breasts. You didn’t fight him, too caught up in the feeling of his cock bullying it way past your suffocating inner walls. Hyunjin flicks the tip of his tongue over your left nipple, sucking it just once to hear you stumble over a breathless moan. Your legs lock around his waist on instinct from the fleeting friction, eyes half open and distant as you stare at him, speaking in a haze he feels himself slipping into with you as your highs near.
“You’ll always…be my first…Hyunie…”
He smiled, groaning out a response without a second thought, “And your last…”
Tumblr media
[ A/N ] Thank Lana Del Rey & Beach Weather for this one.
[ AO3 LINK ]:…. N/A
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
You know life is overrated. I want to be the water bottle in his hand instead… Credits to creator ❤️
951 notes · View notes
eddiesxangel · 1 year ago
Text
Babydoll| Dom!Eddie
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Cw: porn with a slight plot, daddy kink, mechanic!Eddie, dom Eddie/sub reader relationship, reader referred to with pet names (babydoll, babygirl) oral (f receiving), lots of dirty talk, p in v, eddie and reader are in their mid 20’s
Summary: You're having a hard week, and your bf knows just the cure.
wc:2.2.k
This week has been challenging. Work had been a nightmare; you had been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You were drained physically, mentally, and emotionally; you were exhausted. So when you get home to see your man, Eddie, on the couch after work, already cleaned up from the grime and oil he has to endure, you can’t help but crawl into his lap.
You tell him you didn’t have time to breathe these past four days. You told him that everyone needed you then and there and that you didn’t even have time to finish your regular duties. You were at your breaking point…he could see it on your face when you walked through the door.
Eddie knew what he had to do. He had to take control. He usually does, but when you’re in dire need, such as this week, he had to help you relax. He had to help you forget about everything and anything. You needed to have your mind numbed, and he knew just how to get you into that space.
“I’m sorry, baby girl, you should have told me earlier in the week. You know you can always talk to me.” Eddie caressed the back of your head before wrapping his arms around you in a protective hug.
“I know,” you sniffled, “but I didn’t wanna burden you; you’ve been so busy at the shop, and I didn’t want my stress being your stress,” you stressed. This was the problem: you didn’t know how to dump all of your stuff onto others healthily. You usually held it in until you exploded. Usually, you exploded alone in your room, but being with Eddie seemed to make everything better. He made everything better.
“No. None of that. You need to know when you can come to your Daddy, okay?” Eddie pulled back to tilt your chin up and look you in the eyes.
“Oh,” your voice stammered as your stomach did a backflip. So that’s how tonight was going to go.
“Now, be a good girl and sit up.” You obeyed and wrapped one leg over his waist so you could be straddling him.
“There she is, there is, my pretty girl.” You still blush at his praises, even after all this time.
Eddie reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “You want me to make you feel good, baby?” He cooed.
You slightly nod your head. God you needed to let go, to no longer have control. You trusted Eddie with every fibre of your being.
“Words babydoll.
“Yes, Daddy."
“Good girl.” He traced your cheek with his rough calloused fingers. Before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You could still smell a hit of motor oil permanently attached to his scent, but you didn’t mind. It’s what made him your Eddie.
You leaned your head into his touch; he was so gentle, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. Not when you two played like this.
You watched as Eddie tilted his head so his lips could reach yours. A soft and gentle kiss at first, nothing but PG 13. That was until a small moan left your lips. You wanted and needed more. Your hips were on autopilot as you started grinding back and forth in his lap. His rough jeans felt so nice under your clothed pussy, the friction was just right, especially with his hardening cock coming to life under you.
“Take what you need. Tonight it’s all about you. Take what's yours.” Eddie whispered even though it was only the two of you in the apartment unit. His big hands gripped each cheek of your ass and helped guide you. Your pussy wax throbbing, getting wetter with each of his words.
“Daddy, I want more.” You let out a shaky breath. Yes the jeans were nice but they would never satisfy.
“What does my baby need?” He cocked his head.
“You”
“My, what? Baby girl, use your words.”
“Your everything, Daddy.”
Eddie didn’t push any further. Tonight, he knew you couldn’t take the constant pestering for specifics he usually puts you through.
“Okay, baby, I’m here. Your Daddy’s got you.” With that, he stood with you still wrapped around his waist and carried you into the bedroom. When you first started going out, you were so scared you were too heavy for him, but then he reminded you he lifted tires that weigh hundreds of pounds for a living. So the way Eddie was carrying you now didn't seem to phase him.
He placed you down so you stood on your own two feet and let you know he was going to undress you. Once you were entirely naked, he gently laid you down on the bed.
“There you go sweetheart, all you have to do is lay there and look pretty.” The way you were looking at Eddie made his cock stand up even more than it had been when you were on the couch. He couldn't wait to have his way with you. He was so excited to play with you.
Your delicate hand slowly trailed down your body, but Eddie pushed it out of the way before it reached its destination. “Not too fast, sweetheart, this is my pussy, and you know I don’t like to share.” He tutted.
“M’sorry, Daddy.”
“I’m going to let it slide this time, but don’t get used to it.” His tone was stern, you knew he wasn’t fucking around tonight.
“Yes, Daddy.” You bite your lip. You were starting to completely forget about the troubles you had faced merely an hour ago.
“Good girl,” Eddie spoke as he stripped. “Now, where to start first?”
You knew he wasn’t asking you, it was a rhetorical question, but you so wanted to tell him your pussy. Your clit was screaming at you; you could feel your heartbeat down there at this point.
“Please!” you whine.
“Patients darling.”
You pout at his words. You needed him, he knew how badly you needed him. You could feel your arousal seeping out of you as it trailed down your inter thighs.
“I need you now.” You spread your legs ever wider to prove how needy your pussy had gotten for him, so he could see everything.
“Fuck baby, you’re killing me.” Eddie groaned and dove head-first into your pussy. You let out a sigh of relief when his soft warm lips come into contact with your pussy lips. His hands reached up, never forgetting about your breasts. He teased and tugged at each nipple sending a ripple of pleasure through your body.
“You’re always so sweet for me, aren't you, babydoll?” He moved his free hand to stroke your clit with his index finger as he spoke. “Who’s this pussy belong to?”
“Yes, Daddy, only you.” It was so meek, but he still heard it in the silence of the bedroom.
“Good.” Eddie dove back in. His mouth attacked your clit until you were seeing starts. His tongue wrapped around your clit and pussy lips before lapping into your drenched hole. You gripped his hair as your body went into autopilot again. Your brain was finally shutting off completely; you forgot about everything and anything that wasn't Eddie. All you could focus one was the feeling of pleasure building inside of you as you ride Eddie’s face.
“You’re doing so good for me." He praised. "I want you to come on my mouth before you get to come on my cock a few times…. How does that sound?”
“Mmmmhmmpf,” you managed to nod your head, and your hips continued to grind Eddie’s face. You used his mouth to get off and you finally exploded. That’s all you wanted was to feel good, and Eddie always gave that to you.
“I'm coming!” You cried before yelling out Eddie’s name.
“Good girl.” Eddie kissed your clit once before giving your clit a slight slap making your body jerk, continuing to ride out your first orgasm.
"You want to make Daddy feel good now, don't you?” He asked, and you nodded your head dumbly. You needed to have him feel good and you did, you would give him the world if he asked. “That's it, there's my good girl." He smirked as he sat up to align his angry red cock at your gooey entrance.
“You ready for me?” He asked permission like he always does. And you nodded like you always do, as if you would say no? But if you ever did you knew Eddie would roll right off and cuddle you the rest of the night.
“Words, baby, I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes I want you to fuck me, Daddy!” you answered.
Eddie could see your eyes were glazed over with lust. He knew he had you in his favourite place. Cock drunk and needy... just for him.
"Daddy is going to fill your pretty little pussy right to the brim and then keep fucking you until you can’t think anymore, that okay with you baby girl?"
“Okay, Daddy.” You let out a shaky breath in anticipation. His words make your pussy flutter once again. His mouth always made you wet in more ways than one.
Eddie took his cock by the shaft and slapped your very sensitive clit a few times with the head before he ran it up and down your slit a few times to collect your slick so he could slip in smoothly but you still winced at the size of him.
"I know, baby girl, Daddy's cock is so big, but you can take it."
“I can.” You countered back.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He is cock slid in without any hesitation. He made it to the hilt, and you finally felt complete. Like a missing piece of you was found.
Eddie slowly pulled back before slowly pumping back into you, gaining speed with each delicious pump. He watched as his thick long cock disappeared inside of you.
“You feel that babydoll? I’m so deep inside you I can see it in your stomach.” He pressed a hand down onto your lower stomach, and you let out a long, drawn out moan.
“Oh god! Fuck right there!” It was like a bolt of lightning ran through you.
“Ohhh oh, oh yes! That’s it squeeze my cock, you’re going to milk me so good” His eyes squeezed shut, trying not to cum until you’ve had your fair share.
“Please I’m so close!” The feeling inside you quickly built back up.
“I know, baby. Let go for me.” His hand trailed down to your overly swollen clit. He rubbed quick little circles until he felt your walls clamp down on him. Your body was washed over with another wave of pleasure.
“God you squeeze me so good” he gritted through his teeth. Again refusing to cum until he gave you one more. Eddie pulled out before he could bust inside of you too soon. You let out a cry at the loss of Eddie’s contact. Eddie could see your tight hole closing in on its wild again as he pulled out.
The loss of contact didn’t last long as his thick fingers replaced his cock. He watched intently as his fingers stretched you out once again. They swam in your slick before he brought them to your lips.
“Taste how sweet you are, babydoll.” He grabbed your jaw to open your mouth and slipped his fingers inside of your mouth. You could taste the mix of you and Eddie on your tongue.
“God, you have the prettiest lips. Can’t wait until they are wrapped around my cock later.” You swirled your tongue around his fingers and hummed. Eddie’s eyes were full of lust as he observed you. You were lost in your own lust, all fucked out and needy. You hardly were processing Eddie’s words.
"Now baby, you're gonna take all of Daddy's cum, and then we are going to make sure it stays in there all night long. Okay? Gotta breed this pussy so good so everyone knows who you belong to.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned in a daze. The thought of Eddie filling you made your head spin. Having a part of him growing inside you, god, you needed it more than air to breathe.
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to manhandle you and flip you over into all fours, and you let out an oomph before you feel his strong hands grip each hip. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his thick cock slams back into your wanton pussy. He then gabs both of your hands and holds them behind your back as your chest falls onto the plush bedding. And then he rides you. He fucks into like there will be no tomorrow.
“Fuckin’ love this needed little pussy, love it so much.” Eddie slammed into you between each word. “Love it ever better when it’s been bread with my cum.”
“Yes!
“You going to let me own this body?”
“Yes, Daddy, please!” You cried. His cock was grazing your G spot with each pump. Having eddies cock stretch and pump into you never failed to make you moan.
“Show me what’s mine baby, yea that’s it arch your back for me.” Eddie loved you in this position because it was when you were the most obedient. You were so playable you would do almost anything he asked of you when he had you bend over like this. It was also when you were the loudest without realizing it. All fucked out and cock drunk, not aware of your noises.
“Oh fuck, scream my name! Let everyone know who owns this pussy!” He cheered as he slapped your ass.
“Daddy!!” You scream because your throbbing pussy can’t take anymore. Your third orgasm is washing over you before you know what is happening. Your whole body felt like it was on fire but like you were also floating simultaneously.
Finally, Eddie can breed your pussy. “Gunna fills this pussy” Eddie lets out a loud grunt as he cums inside you. His cock twitches inside of you, releasing his hot sticky cum inside.
Eddie pumps his cock two more times, making sure it stays inside of you before he pulls out.
Your limp body is flopped on the bed, and Eddie pulls you into his chest.
“Thank you, baby,” you whispered as you returned to reality.
“I’ll always be here for you, baby girl.” He kisses you sweetly before you spend the rest of the evening in bed.
Tagging those who showed interest😈 @take-everything-you-can @reidsbtch @itsfreakingbats @lofaewrites
2K notes · View notes
f1byjessie · 4 months ago
Text
HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81. [REWRITE]
he may not be a london boy, but you love him all the same, and you’re about to learn the hard way that loving someone can be a wild ride.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part one.
Tumblr media
INSTAGRAM.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by logansargeant, daltonsargeant, and 61,816 others
yourusername me and london boy have made so many memories here together and i’ll cherish them forever ❤️. i love this sport and i love the people i've met in this sport. i'll always love it and them, but sometimes you have to take a step back and set your sights on new horizons. that said, neither of us will be competing in any events this year— endurance or otherwise. london boy will stay in richmond and continue to receive the best care possible from people who have grown to love him as much as i do, and in the meantime, i'll start looking to those other horizons.
view all 1,761 comments
user wishing you the best of luck!! we’ll miss seeing you and london boy, but we know this decision wasn’t made lightly and we hope whatever you do will make you just as happy as riding does!!
user london boy lives a more luxurious life than i could ever hope 
↳ user real like why am i jealous of a horse 😭😭
↳ user knowing how well these horses are treated? we should all be jealous
↳ user some of these horses have rain coats that cost more than my entire wardrobe combined… the day i learned that was not a fun day… 😔
user honestly only ever tuned in to watch you both
user the events won’t be the same without you!!!
user I’LL MISS YOU LONDON BOY
user take all the time you need to explore other options! you can love something and still get burnt out on it. sometimes taking that step away can be the decision that allows us to continue loving something instead of growing resentful towards it. do what you need to do to be happy! 🫶
↳ user this is such a good way to put it!!
↳ user THIS. i did competitive jumping for ten years and towards the end of that time i started seeing it more as a chore than the sport i used to be so passionate about. you absolutely CAN love something and still get burnt out on it. taking breaks is so important.
user i’m sure london boy will miss you but you do you girliepop! take a trip or go on an adventure!
user oh to be a girl riding her horse across the beach at sunrise 🥲
↳ user IKR?!? talk about dream life, she’s literally living out scenes that i’ve only ever seen in movies
↳ user it’s london boy’s world and we’re all just living in it
user wait does this mean no more horse content???
↳ user i mean she’s not getting rid of her horse or even outright retiring, she just won’t be riding competitively for 2023
user is she leaving the uk or smth?? bc she said other ppl will be looking after london boy?? i know nothing about horses guys i’m sorry
↳ user london boy will be staying at the stables as per her caption! he will be looked after by many trained professionals who will ensure he is properly fed, watered, exercised, and groomed each day! it’s actually very common for people to board their horses at a stable since horses often need large fields to graze and exercise in, and not a lot of people have big enough backyards or own property to be able to provide that themselves. whether she’s leaving the uk or not, we don’t know, but it definitely sounds like her training with london boy will be put on hold for the time being!
user miss girl we’ll always remember you and london boy as the greatest duo in endurance racing history
↳ user REAL REAL REAL
user does this have to do with her falling off a few months back??
↳ user it could, she did mention the encounter leaving her pretty shaken
↳ user yeah but the possibility of something like this happening is so high that a lot of riders have accepted it as an inevitable occurrence in their career
↳ user even still, that doesn’t change the fact that she could very well be traumatized or experiencing lingering side effects
↳ user guys!! speculation will do us no good!! if she wants to tell us, she will!!
user YOU KNOW I LOVE A LONDON BOY 🗣🗣🗣
logansargeant wanna trade one paddock for another?
There’s a sort of terrifying uncertainty that comes with breaking a long-standing routine.
It’s like a fucked-up sort of package deal— you stop following the methodized schedule you’ve meticulously upheld for years, and in exchange, you receive more time than you know what to do with and an overwhelming responsibility to fill it.
The only question is: with what?
The muscle memory lingers, and you suspect that it’ll take some time for your body to un-familiarize itself with a sleep schedule that you’ve religiously held on to for years, but there’s no demands to maintain any of it and that makes any sort of attempt at continuing to run through the motions feel entirely obsolete. You may instinctively wake up at the ass crack of dawn, but without the necessity of a horse relying on your punctuality to get him fed, watered, and turned out to the paddock, there’s nothing you can do beyond filling the morning with something until your internal clock catches the memo and decides to let you sleep in for once.
“You know, when I invited you to tag along with me,” Logan begins in lieu of a greeting when he opens the front door and sees you standing on the stoep of his apartment, clad in athletic wear and a pair of well-worn running shoes, “I was under the impression that we both understood that to mean the traveling to races part and not necessarily the pre-season training.”
“‘My dearest sister,’” you sarcastically quip back in a mockingly deep voice, feigning heartfelt sincerity and pressing your hand melodramatically to your chest. “‘How good it is to see you after so long! I would be absolutely delighted if you joined me on my morning run today.’”
Your twin brother shakes his head in exasperation, but through the facade of annoyance, you can recognize the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Honestly, Logie,” You pretend to wipe a tear from the corner of your eye and add in a sniffle for extra flair, “you're too sweet. What would I ever do without you?”
“We saw each other a week ago at brunch,” he grumbles, reluctantly taking a step back from the door and allowing you to pass over the threshold into the warmth of the apartment and out of the winter’s frigid morning air.
“When?”
“Last Wednesday—”
“—did I ask? Oh! Boom! Gotcha!” You whoop out an exclamation of victory as you continue down the hall. “Gosh, I am four for four now. You gotta step up your game, Logie-bear, or this is gonna end in a miserable shut out for you.”
He heaves out a heavy sigh that carries with it twenty-two years of suppressed brotherly rage and the exhaustion that can only come from being reminded at every chance that he is, and always will be, a minute younger than you. “You're the bane of my existence, and I do sincerely hope you know this.”
“Aw, I love you too!”
You step into the small kitchen at the end of the hall. With the exception of a little potted cactus sitting on the windowsill— a housewarming gift from you— it looks nearly identical to how it was the last time you visited.
A month ago.
When he moved in.
There's a woven mat on the floor in front of the sink, an ashy green that contrasts nicely with the off-white cream color of the cabinets and laminate countertops. You can't really tell if Logan actually bought the mat, or if it came with the place, but it's cute nonetheless and serves as one of the few pops of color in the otherwise monochromatically beige apartment.
“I see that my cactus continues to reign supreme as the only individuality in this place,” you comment, glancing over your shoulder in time to see him appear in the doorway.
He shrugs at your words. “Yeah, well, you'd be surprised how busy you can get when you're preparing for everything you've ever dreamed about. No biggie.”
“Logan,” you turn to face him, “you'll do great. There are two other rookies on the grid—”
“And I'll be in the worst car out of all of them.”
“You don't know that,” you chide gently.
This side of Logan isn't unfamiliar to you— the anxiety and fear of failure. It's always existed, and you've known about it since the morning of his first kart race when he confided in you that he was so nervous he felt like he was going to be sick.
The insecurities surrounding his own skills have persisted and thrived with every new track, every new team, and every new series, and as you've grown alongside him you've found ways to challenge his self-doubt, but you've also learned to accept that there's only so much you alone can do.
You can debate it and challenge the self-deprecating thoughts all you want, but the voice in his head will always be there, no matter how quiet it occasionally becomes.
So you choose to drop the topic for now.
It's too early in the morning for an impromptu therapy session anyway.
You turn back around and scan the countertops until your eyes latch onto the container of pre-workout tucked away in the corner, nearly hidden amidst the mountain of vitamin and nutrient supplements.
“I thought it was part of Benny’s job to make sure you didn't have to use all this shit,” you comment, picking through the jars and eyeing them each with unapologetic distaste.
Logan reaches over your shoulder and plucks a packet of vitamin C tablets from your hand, “Sometimes these just work better.”
“Yeah, maybe if you don’t have a nutritionist being paid to quite literally curate a diet specifically to ensure that you don’t need to use these,” you gesture widely to the assembled mass of supplements. “But, last I checked, dear brother of mine, you do have a nutritionist— and a very good one at that— who would be horrified to learn you’re substituting real fruit for…” you squint down at the nutritional label of another one of the jars, but there’s very little that you recognize amidst the scientific jargon and long, five-syllable words, “little gummies that taste like fruit.”
He huffs, “Get your pre-workout or I'm leaving without you.”
“You wouldn't dare leave without me,” you grumble.
“I've done it before and I'll do it again,” he snipes, giving a brief yank on your ponytail and cackling when you swat behind yourself in futility.
There’s more he isn’t saying— there always is, nowadays— but you recognize the deflection for what it is. You want to claw him apart with questions and demand answers that bare every inch of his soul so you understand what he isn’t telling you and why he feels the need to keep it locked away even from you, but you know better than to keep pushing at something Logan clearly doesn’t want to talk about.
It makes you nostalgic for a time in your life when he’d sneak down from the top of the bunk bed after your parents had tucked you away for the night and slip under the covers with you, a well-loved stuffed bear hugged to his chest. He’d curl up beside you and you’d pull the blankets up to your chin and watch him with big, curious eyes until he’d whisper out into the darkness of your shared bedroom what he was worrying about.
More often than not it was a byproduct of a hyperactive imagination still plagued by the fears of childhood. Something about the space beneath your bed and— “What if there’s something down there? And the only way you can see it is by its glowing eyes? But what if it knows when someone is gonna look under the bed, so it closes its eyes so you can’t see the glow?” Or the curtains and— “You have to make sure they cover the whole window because what if you don’t and then something looks inside and it knows I’m not asleep and then it comes inside? I always hold really still and pretend to be asleep even when I’m not if the curtains aren’t closed.”
But sometimes it was about anything and everything else like the fox sitting in the bushes by the bus stop on the way home from school and whether or not it had water to keep it cool in the Florida heat, or the purple glitter pen Mrs. Moore used to grade his spelling test and how the girl sitting next to him had gotten her test graded with the green glitter pen, or— “I forgot my coat in Mr. Garrison’s class yesterday, and you went and got it for me and brought it to the car with you, and I didn’t say thank you, but I always feel bad when I leave my coat behind because what if it has feelings and felt really bad because it thought I was abandoning it, so thank you for getting my coat so it didn’t feel abandoned.”
But that was then and this is now.
You’re both adults, and you live in different apartments on different ends of the city, and you work different jobs that separate you by half the globe at times. There’s no more talk of foxes by bus stops or glitter pens, and certainly no more sentient coats with fears of abandonment.
When you look at Logan now, he isn’t wasting away, and really you owe it to him after you announced out of the blue a week ago that you weren’t just taking a break from competitive riding, but rather taking a break from riding as a whole. He didn’t press you on it then— still hasn’t pressed you on it despite having every right to do so. The least you can do now in return is respect the boundary he’s trying to set.
You mutter a few curses beneath your breath— words your mother would throw a fit over if she could hear you— and feign a scowl, but some of the tension in Logan’s shoulders has released and that's all you can ask for.
“If you leave me behind, I’ll leak a picture of your pathetic kitchen to the tabloids and let everyone tear apart your design choices,” you threaten, digging your knuckles into the tender spot of his arm where bicep meets shoulder and taking pride when he squirms away and beyond reach.
He flips you off. “You’re just jealous I have a cool cactus and you don’t.”
“Hey!” You give a lazy kick in his direction, but he sidesteps it easily with a laugh. “I gave you that cactus!”
“Tomato, tom-ah-to.” He flippantly waves his hand in your direction, laughing again at the indignant squawk you make. “Just hurry up and make your damn drink.”
As he makes his way out of the kitchen, presumably to grab his shoes, you unscrew the lid from the container and reach for the scoop.
Only to find it entirely empty.
“You asshole! There's nothing in here!”
Logan’s cackle echoes from another room.
INSTAGRAM.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by logansargeant, daltonsargeant, and 42,451 others
yourusername day 14 without london boy and i have officially succumbed to the boredom and willingly subjected myself to the presence of my arch nemesis (love you logie 🫶)
view all 1,382 comments
logansargeant in my defense, you just showed up
user you could not PAY me to go out in this weather
user as a florida girlie myself, this is my nightmare
↳ user REAL
↳ user genuinely seeing this makes me so glad i live in a place where there’s no snow cuz yea, the view is pretty and all, but not even a gorgeous sunrise would make up for me freezing my ass off and having to wear seven layers just to keep the feeling in my fingers and toes
user i wish the most stressful part of my day was going for a morning run 😔
user calling logan her nemesis is so real i just know that man is a menace
↳ user the f2 clips of him and liam are proof enough
↳ user logan sargeant was a menace back in f3 💀 have you SEEN the prema videos with oscar and fred? bro is diabolical when he wants to be
↳ user i'm so excited for the chaos he'll bring to the grid this year
user the snow man is so cute!!
user “14 days without london boy” OH I AM ILL 😭😭😭
user ok but that view is gorgeousness
↳ user ikr?! winter sunrises are genuinely so pretty
user i’m still so confused as to why she isn’t riding anymore?? can someone pls explain
↳ user to be entirely honest, i’m not sure really what there is to explain. first and foremost, we aren’t owed any sort of explanation as to why she’s decided to take a step back from riding. it could be a personal decision, a career decision, or something else, but whatever it is we aren’t automatically entitled to it just because y/n has previously been very open and vocal about her and london boy’s training. second, she never actually said that she isn’t riding anymore. she said she’s taking a step back from competitive riding to focus on other things, and the “without london boy” part of her caption implies that she hasn’t seen him, but she could just be taking a prolonged break, or she could be focusing on something else that has prevented her from going to see him. but again, none of it is our business and she doesn’t owe us any further explanation to what she meant.
↳ user THIS THIS THIS!! as sad as i am to not have london boy on my feed, y/n is a grown adult with her own private life and we have to respect her decisions!! if or when she chooses to come forward about the specifics of her future plans and goals, then that’s great and i’ll continue to support her endeavors, but for the time being we all just have to be patient
user the selfie logan posted with you on his story was so cute!! 🥰
user she’s a runner she’s a track star
user i’ve missed the twin content!
↳ user me too!! i really hope that her taking a break from competitions (as much as i love london boy) will mean we get to see her actually going to more of logan’s races, especially now that he’ll be in formula 1!!
oscarpiastri if the rumours are to be believed, i look forward to getting to catch up at the races this year
━━ tags: @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @awritingtree @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel @lewisvinga @81vas @maih23 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @elz-xo @the-navistar-carol
━━ a/n: surprise! i've been working on this for a little while now (i got my wisdom teeth removed yesterday, so the time i've spent recovering has been spent polishing up the last few details for this first part) but here she is! as promised, the newly rewritten and revamped 'he likes my american smile'! i feel like i always say it, but the original genuinely holds such a special place in my heart because it was the first work i ever posted here on tumblr, so i'm really happy to take all that i've learned since then and apply it where i can in this new version. i really hope the changes and development is as loved by you all as it is by me, and that you all enjoy!
467 notes · View notes
synchodai · 5 months ago
Text
When I say Tyland Lannister is my favorite character...
I am being 100% dead serious. Here is why I prefer this seemingly average nobleman over the many many many fan favorites in Fire and Blood.
Tyland Lannister is a second son in a story about second sons. Whether his feelings on this are as strong as Aemond's or Daemon's, we never know for sure in the books, but it's obvious that he's subservient to a mirror image of himself who only has more authority because of a few seconds separation between twins. It's a great display of both the arbitrariness and rigidity of succession.
His initial role in the Dance is as the master of coin for the greens. He's depicted as a typical Lannister: charming, comely, and cunning. He did what any savvy accountant would do and divided the crown's treasury amongst different allied regions for safe-keeping, ensuring that if King's Landing were sacked, their enemies wouldn't loot their coffers dry and they'd still have plenty of gold for their war efforts.
And of course, King's Landing gets sacked. Tyland is put in the black cells and ordered to be tortured by Rhaenyra to extract the gold's whereabouts. Winter is coming, people are starving and rioting, her army is dwindling, so she desperately needs that gold. Tyland is gelded, maimed, disfigured, and blinded but the torturers get nothing out of him.
Mind you, this man has been a rich, pampered bureaucrat all his life and he endured all that without breaking. When Aegon II releases Tyland from those cells, he has no fingernails, his eyes have been gouged out and/or sewn shut, this man who was once known for his good looks doesn't look human anymore — but he still manages to maintain his wits so much so that he plays an important role after the Dance.
Even with Rhaenyra dead, there are still armies raising their banners for her eldest surviving son, Aegon Trois. Tyland tells Adult Aegon to kill Child Aegon because obviously, the latter threatens the former's claim and Tyland's understandably angry over what his mom did. Aegon Dos is like, nah, I'll keep the boy hostage instead — that'll keep the armies at bay more than outright killing him.
So Tyland volunteers to go to Myr to hire sellswords for Aegon 2 since their armies are pretty much kaput after six years of this civil war. Tyland is blind at this point I remind you — there is a huge chance this man will never get to go home again. But he does it anyway, because even after years of fighting, he keeps his unwavering loyalty to the monarch he declared for.
Aegon II dies while Tyland is in Myr, and Tyland goes back to Westeros just in time to see Cregan Stark use his powers as the new Hand to marry Aegon III and Princess Jaehaera to unite the green and black sides. Cregan dusts off his hands, says my work here is done, warns the boy king not to trust anyone, then leaves for the North for everyone else to sort this mess out.
Now comes the part where Tyland shines as a character. He becomes the Hand of Aegon III and when you see his policies detailed in the book, it's clear that his goal is focused on repairs and renumerations. After what happened to him, he has every right to be spiteful and bitter against the blacks, but instead he "claimed a curious failure of memory, insisting that he could not recall who had been black and who had been green." He abolished the heavy taxes imposed on the smallfolk, sent out gold to lords whose holdings had been devastated during war, and set out to rebuild the Realm's granaries and fleet. Cleaning up is a tedious, unglamorous job — and because of his monstrous appearance and former allegiances, Tyland was looked upon with distrust.
And yet, while other regents grasped for power and tried taking advantage of the 13-year-old King Aegon III, Tyland seemed to be different. If he wanted power he could have married his twin brother's widow and convinced the boy-king to route more resources towards Casterly Rock and the Westerlands. But he didn't.
Instead, he genuinely seemed to be a father figure to Aegon III.
Tyland Lannister, blind and crippled, had always treated the king with deference, speaking to him gently, seeking to guide rather than command.
And for that, many lords saw him as a weak Hand. But Aegon, who cared for very little and never laughed and was always sullen, seemed to care for Tyland.
When the plague ravaged King's Landing, Tyland dutifully prioritized it over quashing the Ironborn raids at Lannisport. He was the last person to become afflicted with the Winter Fever, and the king sat by his Hand's side during his final hours. When the council starts discussing who should be the new Hand, Aegon (the boy who rarely ever speaks) says:
I would have Lord Rowan as my Hand. Ser Tyland thought well enough of him to offer him my sister’s hand in marriage, so I know he can be trusted.
This boy trusted Tyland, the man who only years ago wanted him dead.
So it's easy to imagine that this man saw Aegon III as the boy he was responsible for, as the son he could never have because of what the war had done to him. Tyland Lannister was a broken man who despite losing everything, his king and his brother and himself, kept a broken Realm and broken boy together when everyone else swarmed like vultures just trying to pick at carcasses.
What motivated this man's loyalty for a boy whose mother mutilated him? Did he regret pushing for the death of an innocent child and this was his penance? Did this man who gave everything for his cause think that this boy was something that could still give all that sacrifice and tragedy meaning? Was the mercy and kindness he afforded an apology for the horrifying trauma that scarred this boy — did he feel responsible for his mother's downfall and the failure to save his uncle? Did his disfigurement and blindness allow him to let go of the man he once was and become someone capable of seeing the folly of pride and power?
Here is his obituary in Fire and Blood:
Ser Tyland Lannister had never been beloved. After the death of Queen Rhaenyra, he had urged Aegon II to put her son Aegon to death as well, and certain blacks hated him for that. Yet after the death of Aegon II, he had remained to serve Aegon III, and certain greens hated him for that. Coming second from his mother’s womb, a few heartbeats after his twin brother, Jason, had denied him the glory of lordship and the gold of Casterly Rock, leaving him to make his own place in the world. Ser Tyland never married nor fathered children, so there were few to mourn him when he was carried off. The veil he wore to conceal his disfigured face gave rise to the tale that the visage underneath was monstrous and evil. Some called him craven for keeping Westeros out of the Daughters’ War and doing so little to curb the Greyjoys in the west. By moving three-quarters of the Crown’s gold from King’s Landing whilst Aegon II’s master of coin, Tyland Lannister had sown the seeds of Queen Rhaenyra’s downfall, a stroke of cunning that would in the end cost him his eyes, ears, and health, and cost the queen her throne and her very life. Yet it must be said that he served Rhaenyra’s son well and faithfully as Hand.
Tyland wasn't extraordinarily badass, noble, or even skilled. He was an excellent politician but no way the best. But I think that's what makes him compelling to me — that he's this down-to-earth depiction of a POW, a war veteran by all accounts, trying to pick up the pieces and slowly glue what remains of the Realm and himself back into something vaguely human.
We tell so many stories about the glory, the tragedy, and the losses of war. But I think it's important and beautiful to tell stories of those bravely and optimistically choosing to keep living in the aftermath as well.
403 notes · View notes