#do you think that ever bothers him as much as it’s a saving grace

[worstloki]

Do you think Thor ever gets tired of the himbo jokes? People always valuing his physical strength like he’s got nothing else to offer but good cheer and a strong swing

[jeanbie]

FANTASIZE ★ masterlist.

pairing: jake x reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, fem!human!reader, semi-public sex, piv sex, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, breeding kink, cumming inside, glowy cum | wc: 16k | ♬

note: i've been promoted to: avatar writer. my first time writing for it (def not my last!) lemme know what u think ;-) also his smirk in the header....GET INSIDE ME

★ ⏤ fantasize | all the time (if you were mine)

⏤ It's official - Jake is sick and tired of Norm giving him shit. While he can't claim to know as much about Pandora as Norm does, there's still a few things Jake can afford to do to piss him off even more for the fun of it, and it just so happens that Norm's sister works as a scientist in the lab - which to Jake spells perfect revenge in its simplest form.

It’s official — Jake has had enough of Norm’s bitching and whining.

For the last two months, Jake has endured a lot, more than he ever asked for or wanted; whether it was Neytiri on his ass about becoming an Omatikaya and never missing a single beat of training for it, Grace nagging him about video logs, or even Norm giving him so much shit over every single thing he didn’t spend three years learning in simulations and classrooms — he’s sat and listened to all of it without complaint. 

Jake has never once fought back, never once raised his own grievances about how tedious and time-consuming everything actually is on one man’s shoulders, and yet it all keeps coming.

The worst thing is that he can understand all of it to an extent. There’s a necessary need for attentiveness when learning the ways of the Omatikaya, and the longer it takes, the worse his chances get with the rest of the clan. The video logs? They’re not that important, Jake thinks, but it keeps Grace off his back for the small kernel of time he actually spends in the real world and not inside of his avatar. 

But with Norm, Jake can’t seem to understand what is actually bothering him enough to be so goddamn bitter about every little thing.

Of course, he’ll never fit into Tom’s shoes, not in the way everybody expects him to. He didn’t spend three years of his life learning how to control an avatar or how to function on Pandora — every day is quite literally a learning experience, a practical education that neither a lab nor a stuck up prick like Norm can teach. 

And, while he’s on the subject, Jake actually thought Norm would be a decent ally, at least until he almost died and got saved — with reluctance — by the daughter of the Olo’eyktan and somehow ended up being thrust into learning their way of life. 

Nobody seems to remember the giant part of the story concerning how he almost got devoured by an oversized dog in the process.

Instead, Norm wants to bitch about how Jake knows nothing, and treats him like a genuine idiot. Jake might be a few years short of being educated on the Na’vi, but he’s not stupid. He can still do stuff, stuff that Norm can’t; but reasoning with the man is like trying to convince the Na’vi that the Sky People are actually friends and not foes, and it’s pretty obvious that that’s never going to happen.

When Norm begins his daily ritual of berating Jake on his lack-of knowledge regarding the Hallelujah Mountains that surround their shitty little containment, Jake’s willing to sit through it and take it like a champion. 

Norm starts weaving his conspiracies to the cluster of scientists about how Jake is a terrible candidate for joining the Omatikaya clan and that all he cares about is sucking up to the Chief’s daughter — not true, by the way, for Neytiri can only stomach being near Jake because she has to and on rare occasions, he can do something absurdly dumb to make her laugh — and Jake begins to mentally tap out of the debate, rolling his eyes to the side and sighing as he watches you duck your head through a low archway with a bowl of slop in your hands.

Jake watches you for around three seconds before the lightbulb flickers alight above his head.

And then he grins.

It’s hard to believe that you and Norm are related — Jake can’t find any similarities between the two of you. You’re incredibly compassionate and communicative, never letting Jake suffer in his silent struggle of stupidity, and not to mention you’re incredibly beautiful; whereas Norm is just… Norm. A bitter, angry, red-faced man who does a piss poor job at hiding his insatiable jealousy of how wasting your life in a classroom or behind a book actually means very little in the grand scheme of achieving your goals. 

Example A: Jake of the Jarhead clan, ex-military, future Omatikaya. Cross-reference to Norm: sad loser. Jake signs his name on the mental essay he’s compiling as Norm drones on about culture and ignorance and narrows his gaze on you as you close in on the group.

Jake’s actually always liked you. You’re a no nonsense kind of woman who loves science and the Na’vi, and, unlike your brother, you actually treat him like an equal. Even now, as you slip next to him and lean back against the low metal work-surface, you meet Jake’s gaze with an eye-roll and smile, and his grin only widens from it.

Oh, how he loves that you like him. Although you spend so much time engrossed in your work and documenting on paper whatever Jake recites from his daily activities within the clan, Jake happens to know that you like him, and in hindsight, it’s never been a secret. For the first time, Jake lets himself consider the possibility of that being just another reason for Norm to suddenly despise him, but the idea warms his stomach rather than churns it.

“I can totally see Jake ruining all of our chances at building bridges by just burning them all together,” Norm huffs, folding his arms and wrangling a dirty glare in his direction. Jake welcomes it with the same smile that’s been blooming over his face for the past two minutes, which worsens Norm’s mood. 

“I don’t see you building any bridges, either,” you say to Norm. “Jake’s been more valuable to this program than you have as of late.”

Norm bristles. “One of us has actually been doing research while the other is trying to seduce an Olo’eyktan’s daughter—”

“Jake’s doing field research, Norm,” Grace says, her eyes still glued to her microscope. “And he knows better than to seduce anybody when we haven’t properly studied the relations between Na’vi and avatars yet. And there are bigger issues at stake right now.”

“I can get results on that if you want me to,” Jake offers.

“No, Jake.”

Jake shrugs. While Norm continues his tirade against Jake’s rather noble endeavours with the Omatikaya, he turns his gaze back towards you and lets his mental clogs turn.

At this point, Jake thinks that even if you agreed with some of Norm’s points, it wouldn’t make any difference. There is absolutely nothing he can do to please Norm, and so maybe he should just stop trying. Then again… There’s something hideously funny in how worked up Norm gets when somebody jumps to his defence, particularly you.

And considering most of Norm’s insecurities come from seeds he planted all by himself without any concrete evidence to support most of the points, Jake knows that anything he does from here on out will drive Norm into a slow burning insanity.

“Is it because I’m in a wheelchair?” Jake asks suddenly.

Norm huffs. “Of course not. It’s because you don’t take any of this seriously. Everything is a game to you. All of us here have spent years building up to this assignment while you read a manual and called it a day.”

“What? I’m serious. I’m one of the best avatar drivers here,” Jake says smugly. Grace finally looks over with an irate look — something tells him he wasn’t supposed to tell everyone that she had told him that. 

Norm’s face turns a whole new shade of pink. 

“I’m also a quick learner. The Omatikaya are trusting me more and more each day, so while I go out there and find out valuable field research for this program—” Jake looks at you with a deliberately sweet look and you laugh quietly, “—you can stay here and look at plants and mud and cells.”

“You probably don’t even know what a cell is.”

“Sure I do. Where they lock up all the bad guys.”

Norm opens his mouth to say something more, probably missing the joke like he does every time, but this time Grace swirls in her chair and sighs loudly, looking between the two of them like they were children.

“Alright, ladies, you’ve measured your dicks at equal length. You’re both doing good work around here, so Norm, why don’t you just let Jake go back to doing his work with the Omatikaya and you can just get some rest. Jesus, you’re both making everyone miserable, it’s affecting my work ethic…”

“Yeah, sweet dreams, Norm,” Jake calls, and Norm gives him a filthy scowl before snatching his things up off the desk, holding them secretively to his chest as he stomps towards the back room lined with their bunks. 

Jake feels the dark and evil energy follow him out the room and then he finally looks around the lab in disbelief. 

“Jake, go, you’ll be late, don’t keep Neytiri waiting,” Grace reminds him, switching off the bulb to the microscope and stretching her arms as Trudy claps her hands and silently announces her retirement to the bunks after Norm. “Don’t forget to make a log when you get back. Don’t let him forget, will you, Spellman?”

Grace looks at you with a look that suggests no room for negotiation. It was an order. She collects her things, claps Jake on the shoulder and grabs a cigarette from the net by the archway and takes it with her towards her separated bedroom. 

When the door to her little cubicle rattles shut, Jake shakes his head with a quiet laugh and rolls himself forward, giving you room to assemble your own work station where he had just been.

“Staying up late tonight?” he asks you, taking a swig of water before pushing one of the buttons to the link unit, waiting as it whirs to life.

You settle your stuff down and walk towards him. “Yep. I actually do have some work on cells to finish up.”

Jake’s lips quirk. “Not your usual ballpark, is it?”

“No, but there’s not really a surplus of Na’vi around here to communicate with,” you say in reply, rummaging with the unit to help Jake into the gel pack mattress. Usually he dismisses the help, but when it’s you helping him get comfy, then he’ll stomach his pride and accept your kindness. He’s surprisingly light, as normal, and you frown. 

“Don’t forget about the real world, Jake, you gotta take care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry, I got this,” he assures you. “You need anything while I’m out?”

Another thing that will shave a few years off Norm’s life — Jake bringing you things, extraordinary and otherwise unattainable when stranded in the mountains things for you to study and report. You hum thoughtfully at the offer, pushing his head down softly when he wriggles restlessly, a little 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.

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.

[simplyreveries]

octatrio when a customer is being mean to you

azul ashengrotto

he usually keeps an eye on you throughout the day when working, even if he isn't always around because most of his time is spent in the VIP room swindling students. he'd giving you some sweet smile as he passes by and sometimes ask how everything is going- he considers himself quite lucky to be there to deal with this unpleasant situation.

azul is quickly by your side in a matter of moments as soon as he sees the guy giving even an ounce of irritation towards you. azul gives this blatant, fake, professional smile "oh dear... is there an issue here?" he'd inquire pretending like he really does care what this boy thinks. it's easy to deal with, because he is the manager of the place.

he is good at deescalating the situation and if it really comes down to it he'll bring in someone like floyd or jade to escort them out, that'll end up scaring the living daylights out of them. when they're out of sight he'll sigh shaking his head and adjusting his uniform, muttering how "troublesome" people are. you are the only thing he cared about feeling okay. he shows concern for you, but he still can't help but feel lingering frustration that you were even bothered like that in the first place. he'll tell you if there's a chance he isn't around and that happens again just get floyd or jade :).

jade leech

jade could see this situation happening from a mile away. he is painfully observant and already knew what annoyance this customer was going to bring. he was already lurking beside you ready to swoop in and save you from this guy. standing tall right behind you putting a hand on your shoulder, he'd have a calm and like azul an ever so fake look of concern for the customers wellbeing giving a "my, what seems to be the problem?".

he is so incredibly passive aggressive with the bothersome customer. showing such an unnerving look to them-- jade would actually be quite surprised if they tried to make any more of a scene, knowing who he is to others at school.

so, he manages to deal with the situation very easily. he almost finds the whole thing amusing to him if I'm being honest. chuckling, he'd give a small, graceful look of reassurance "fufu i hope you know not to take these things to heart, (name)." nevertheless, jade always seems to look out for you when he's got shifts with you. he knows how much of a bother some people can be.

floyd leech

he usually finds situations like these almost entertaining when shifts are tedious and boring- though he feels his mood goes sour and annoyed when he sees the guy making you upset and being mean. floyd is probably already next to you when you're approached by him. considering how he likes to annoy you and be clingy on shifts.

seems to have no patience and immediately gets defensive over you... like straight up gives a disgruntled expression and is like "eh? what's your problem?", "ok and?" zero formality. he has no qualms getting in people's face. the customer would most likely 1) completely backing off terrified of floyd or 2) getting even more upset because floyd just retorts back, even teasing him. if anything, it's someone like jade that needs to step in, so he doesn't do something out of line (ok as if jade is really any better???).

floyd will grumble and tell you how much that guy made him pissed off. yet his mood turns a 180 when he tries to cheer you up, he'll drag you claiming it's time for your break AND he'll even cook you up a lunch!!

[nathaslosthershit]

The Truth Behind It All

Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.

The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love. 

She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.

Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.

The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room. 

“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation. 

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.

“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.

“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.

“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”

“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”

He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself. 

“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”

“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”

“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”

“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”

“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.

“What, love?”

“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom. 

—

Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.

A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.

Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.

“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.

“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.

“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.�� “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”

“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”

“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”

“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”

“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.

Oh how unfair it all was.

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Wriothesley — and his sudden favoritism

cw: spoilers for wriothesley's story quest, alludes to nsfw but no actual nsfw, lets pretend the Beret Society lounge is somewhere more hidden

an: im so tired and sleepy from uni but my wriothesley brainrot surpasses all human limitations

Wriothesley doesn't do favorites.

You've been aware of that for as long as you've stayed in the Fortress of Meropide. The Duke is just. He treats everyone equally, whether it be guards or prisoners. He'd never be on you as long as you get your job done and stay out of trouble.

That's why you didn't buy his words as you stood by his side, Dougier looking at you with a subtle threatening glare, one that shook you to your core unbeknownst to the Duke.

"You've been spending much time with them, Your Grace," Dougier spoke, his tone friendly, and so was the smile on his face, a demeanor that is foreign to you. "I just can't help but worry. After all, she's part of my precious society."

His words were laced with practiced concern, but you knew it was a thinly-veiled threat. Don't you dare blabber to His Grace.

"No need to worry," Wriothesley reassured with a calm tone and a smile, looking over at you, not bothering to hide the suggestive tone of his voice.

"They've just become my favorite, that's all."

Bullshit.

You can see the strained smile on Dougier's face as he said that, and you were powerless against these authoritative figures. One slip-up and you'll be censured by Dougier, and who knows what His Grace would do if he's the one you pissed off?

It was evident to you and Doougier what Wriothesley wanted from you, but neither you nor Dougier could ever hope to go against the Duke. Dougier isn't quite ready for that just yet.

"You don't mind, do you?" Wriothesley added, not even bothering to hide his threatening tone, and Dougier had no choice but to shake his head no.

"Good." Wriothesley seemed pleased with that, turning to face you with a smile on his face, his fingers brushing against your arm, tapping a pattern against your skin before whispering an "I'll see you around," loud enough for Dougier to hear, leaning back and his eyes meeting yours as if waiting for your response.

You only stare back at him, unsure of what to think about the sudden turn of events, and sensing that he wouldn't get a response, the Duke then turns to leave.

Ever since that day, much to Dougier's annoyance, he can no longer keep you in the abandoned zone that he has transformed into his base. Not with the Duke popping up randomly in the Beret Society lounge to ask for you every time.

And so, whenever Wriothesley graced your presence, his focus seemed to be effortlessly drawn toward you, his intentions leaving no room for subtlety even in the company of the other members—actors that Dougier planted to keep up the facade of the Society.

While you didn't necessarily feel uncomfortable, a twinge of curiosity tugged at the corners of your mind; so many questions often danced in your thoughts, like a hidden undercurrent beneath calm waters weaving its way through your mind as you pondered the enigma that is the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide.

Wriothesley doesn't do favorites.

Wriothesley wouldn't just randomly start flirting with one of the inmates, knowing full well the power imbalance between them.

Surely, he doesn't want to get in your pants that badly?

This went on for a few days, Wriothesley would pop up, and you'd be there with some random member Dougier likely had tasked to ensure you wouldn't be spilling the beans to the Duke.

Until one day, surprisingly, there wasn't anyone else.

Still, the camera behind you was more than enough to keep you glued to the couch as Wriothesley enters.

The lounge lay silent, its once bustling atmosphere now empty, save for Wriothesley and yourself. His piercing gaze sweeps across the room, a mix of curiosity and anticipation filling the air.

"No one else today?" he muses, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue.

"No, no one else," you confirm, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. You clear your throat, feeling the weight of the Duke's undivided attention fixed upon you.

"Finally, our lucky day, huh?"

His words hang in the air, and before you can even respond, Wriothesley seizes the opportunity without hesitation.

In one swift motion, he lunges towards you, catching you off guard. Your body is pressed against the soft cushions of the couch while he looms above you, his presence consuming every inch of your being. His arms encircle you, caging you in a position that renders you breathless as you look up at him in surprise.

"I've seen the way you look at me," Wriothesley purred, his voice a seductive melody sending shivers down your spine. The raw desire in his tone leaves no room for doubt, and you find yourself rendered speechless, your widened eyes locked with his.

As he starts to lean closer, a sharp intake of breath escapes your lips, swallowing thickly, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. The gentle caress of his lips against the delicate curve of your ear sends a tingling sensation coursing through your body, awakening every nerve. His voice, a velvet whisper, dances across your senses, but his words make your eyes snap open, pulling you out of your fantasy.

"Does it have a microphone?" He asks, his question delivered with a hushed tone that matches the closeness of his presence. The warmth of his breath grazes against your skin, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake. Sensing your confusion at his question, he then added.

"The camera." He whispers, and you are even more surprised he was aware of it. "Does it have a microphone?"

"No... no, it doesn't." You whisper back,

"Can it see us right now?" He asks, voice much louder this time,

"Not fully, no." You respond, "Only you hunched over me, probably."

"Is he watching right now?"

"Y-Your Grace... I..."

"Dougier." Wriothesley's tone is more firm, "Is he watching right now?"

"He always is,"

A subtle shift in his position brings his nose tantalizingly close to the delicate expanse of your neck. His warm breath creates a delicate dance against your skin, refraining from making direct contact.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs against your skin, his voice laced with a hint of concern. The question hangs in the air, causing you to inhale sharply, the sensation of his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver down your spine. 

"Your Grace.... I don't understand..."

"I apologize for my behavior the past week." Wriothesley's tone is genuine as he apologizes, pulling away just enough for his icy gaze to meet yours. "I couldn't think of a way to talk to you while making sure Dougier wouldn't butt in halfway through."

He pulls back even more, his thighs now straddling your hips. His hands gracefully find their way to his tie, fingers deftly tugging at the fabric as he deliberately makes a show of loosening it. The tie slips from his grasp, cascading down to the floor, as his eyes remain locked with yours.

He dives back in, his face inches away from yours, and his warm breath dances along the surface of your skin, deliberately fooling Dougier from the other end of the camera, making him think that something is going on.

"As I said, I've seen the way you look at me," He repeats that phrase once again, shifting his position on top of you.

"You're always looking at me like there's something you wish to say, but you keep hesitating. Upon further investigation, I've noticed your gaze intensifies whenever Dougier is near you, but so does the fear in your eyes."

Your breath gets caught in your throat at his words, staring at him with a mix of surprise and amazement. You've been having thoughts of blowing Dougier's cover time and time again. You frequently see the Duke walking around the Fortress, and every time you do, you have the urge to approach him and just tell him what's been going on.

But you've always had your reservations. Dougier has some of the guards in his pockets, and Wriothesley supports the Beret Society, doesn't he? What if he doesn't believe you and tells Dougier about your attempts?

Just the thought of being caught and censured is enough to keep you to yourself, mouth shut tight like an obedient dog at Dougier's heel, looking longingly at the one person who can put a stop to your suffering and that of many others.

Unbeknownst to you, with every fleeting glance you cast upon Wriothesley, his icy gaze would return yours, a silent confusion and curiosity etched upon his face.

He wondered why your eyes carry an unspoken weight of perpetual struggle, as if drowning in an unseen tide. And he felt an inexplicable pull to extend a lifeline, offer solace, and rescue from the depths in which you've found yourself in.

Which brought you to your position now.

"I tried to send you subtle signs, waiting for you to approach me.." Wriothesley trails off before chuckling and shaking his head in light amusement. You blink at his words, that fateful day flashing back in your mind. The warmth of his hand against the skin of your arm, his fingers tapping against your skin. You hadn't noticed it then, but you do now.

Three short taps. Three long taps. Three short taps.

SOS

The look of bewilderment is obvious from the way your eyes widened. He'd been planning this from the start.

"I thought of taking you to talk in my office, but Dougier might get suspicious," he adds, his body shifting once again to keep up the act of something intimate happening. "Eventually, I knew I couldn't leave you to your own anymore."

Your gaze remains locked with his, and his own looks back at you with a mix of determination and warmth, wanting to reassure you and show you his determination at the same time.

"Tell me what's going on." He whispers, but his voice isn't a command. It was soft, still firm, but more on trying to reassure you than command you to do anything.

"Tell me everything, and I'll do all I can for you."

You find yourself gazing upwards, immersed in the shadowy depths, your eyes fixated on Wriothesley's figure. From the murky abyss, a hand stretches towards you, a lifeline amidst the suffocating darkness, beckoning you to resurface and breathe freely once more.

Yet, a hesitant pause lingers. Uncertainty clings to your heart like a fragile, delicate whisper that holds you captive, urging you to pause and consider the consequences.

Wriothesley, ever perceptive, notices your hesitance. He understands, all too well, that you can't save those who do not wish to be saved. Yet, he refuses to let go. With determination, he fights against the current, reaching out desperately, unwilling to let you slip through his fingers and deeper into the abyss.

"Tell me what it is that you're terrified of.." Wriothesely urges.

"No matter what or who it is, they will no longer be able to hurt you. I swear to you, on my name and honor as the Duke."

And finally, Wriothesley watches as with a trembling hand, you reach out to grasp his, intertwining your fingers, releasing the weight that had burdened your shoulders for far too long. It is as if he had lifted the weight of the world from your very being

He ignores the way his heart flutters at the sight of relief in your gaze, the edges of your lips turning up to a genuine, relieved smile, taking a deep breath before you spoke.

"The Beret Society... Dougier... it isn't what it seems to be."

Finally, you poured your heart out to him, telling him what's been happening under his nose.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part nine

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is the teaaaa guys,, also should i post the playlist tn?? i feel like its almost ready 0.0

series masterlist // playlist

"You should go home. You can't save her by just hoping she comes out of her little tunnels again..." Coryo turns his head at the Dean's voice on his left. "She could be dead in there. You wouldn't know."

Your friend sighs, rolling his eyes and redirecting them to the screen ahead. Just in case.

"What are you reading?" He points to the open book on Coryo's desk in front of him as the boy quickly closes it, pulling it down onto his lap.

"Just a book." He mumbles.

The Dean gets closer, leaning over to read the cover as Coryo flips it over. "Just a book?" He probes it more, raising an eyebrow at him. "The very same one your poet was reading in all the live feeds of the zoo over the last few days. That's sweet."

"It's interesting. That's all. She asked for it, I wanted to know why." Coryo brushes it off, holding the paper tighter in his grip.

"What do you want from that girl?" He asks, leaning against the empty desk next to him.

"Nothing." Coryo insists. "I want her to live."

Dean Highbottom hums, giving a slight nod. "And the Plinth Prize would be a happy coincidence, I suppose."

Coriolanus smiles bitterly, thinking over what his best response would be. "I believe I'd be entitled to it."

"Of course you do." The Dean nods, flashing him a fake smile of encouragement. "Of course you do. The prize, the girl. Hm. How convenient you don't have to choose between them."

Coryo tucks the book under his leg at the statement, choosing not to grace his superior with any kind of response.

"Who do you think makes that final decision for the prize you so covet, Mister Snow? Wake up. Even if she somehow wins it all, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you don't see a dime." Dean Highbottom spits, looking up at the screen as well as Coryo slowly looks over at him. "So, ask yourself, how much do you care if she wins now?"

Coryo listens to the man's footsteps as he walks away, pretending to focus on the screen again. If he truly had no shot at the prize, would it be best for him to go home now and sleep like many of his classmates already had? Should he even bother to watch the cameras hoping that you'll reappear in the dark arena at some point tonight? Should he even come back? Of course he would. He couldn't live with the idea of you coming out, in desperate need of something only he could give you, food or water, and knowing that at some point you would realize he had lied to you. That he wasn't with you anymore. He would have to watch your heartbreak in holiday reruns for the rest of his life. Even if you died in that arena all alone, would you realize that he didn't care about you at the end? He couldn't take the idea of it.

As he returns to the book that he's pulled back onto his lap, he hopes you still remember.

It's another slow hour before you show your face again, slowly, carefully opening the vent across the arena as the motion cameras pick up on it, allowing Coryo to watch the closest one to you. It's a moment before he looks up, entranced in your book when he sees the movement in his peripheral vision. He was the only one there, now, and he knew it likely wasn't you that the cameras picked up so it took him a moment to even tear his eyes away from the desk, slotting the dried-up flower between the pages. When he does see it's you, he sits up quickly. Watching, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it didn't come, there was no one else. It's just you.

Your eyes scan the arena in search of the nearest camera after seeing that there are no other tributes out in the clearing besides Lamina, where you left her on the beam. You crawl out, leaving the vent open behind you for a quick retreat. You find the camera, looking into it. You were covered in dirt head to toe, but even through that Coryo could see it when you tried to communicate with your gaze. With him.

You give a small wave to the camera, eyes flitting up with the sound of birds in the crumbled rafters above you.

He wasn't sure what you wanted, but he was grateful you listened. Tapping through his communicuff, he quickly finds water and hits send. Hopefully, it makes it to you instead of breaking like Lamina's did.

You stand up in front of the vent, stretching out your limbs from being curled up and crawling around in the vent system for so long. You wanted to explore as much of it as you could, but it was hot in there, and you desperately needed water so you could clear out the dust in your throat.

A smile falls onto your face briefly as you see the drone come in, carrying your water bottle. Coryo. He is watching. You hold your hand out, prepared to try and catch it before it crashes loudly into the stands just behind you. From watching what happened with Lamina's, you know you have to be careful. The blades aren't well covered, and they come flying in fast. Straight toward you. When it gets too close you bail, ducking down as the fast-moving drone flies straight past you and into the vent. You cringe at the loud banging that follows, echoing throughout the arena due to your beloved vent system. You stay hidden for a moment, making sure no one is coming after you before standing up and looking around. Satisfied that no one was coming besides Lamina who just stirred on her beam, you held your finger up toward the camera, signaling for Coryo to wait as you crawled back in.

He chews on the inside of his cheek as he waits, relieved when you emerge a minute or so later with an unbroken bottle in your hand as you kneel on the ground in front of the opening. You hold it up, shooting the camera a small smile before opening it and taking a sip. Or, you intended to, but you were so thirsty you downed almost the whole thing in one go.

You wipe your chin, take a deep breath, and close your eyes. It felt so good. Coryo is watching you intently. You don't look cold, which is good. Maybe even a little sweaty, if the hair that's clinging to your forehead is proof of that. You're probably hungry. And with that, he's sending you an apple. If you weren't hungry, it wasn't a lot to eat, but if you were, he would be able to tell by how you ate it.

You hear the distant whir of another drone, quickly standing up and stepping away from the vent. You want to avoid that loud echoing as much as you can. You brace yourself and duck beneath the seat in front of you, hiding behind the railing so it wouldn't hit you.

It crashes into the front of the stands, and you can hear it falling down onto the floor. You stand up slowly, looking over the edge. You were so hungry, now that you saw the apple there, that you hopped down over the side and walked along the edge of the railing before sliding down where it was safest. You watch your steps as you make your way over to the broken drone and the battered apple that was attached to it.

You scan the ground, looking for that delicious flash of red which you pick out quickly. You pick it up and wipe it off on your dress, taking a bite before you're even fully stood up again. You could moan just at the taste of it. You had missed fruit so much- occasionally Coryo and Sejanus had brought you some in the zoo, but now it was something else entirely. Every bite could be your last, and you try to enjoy it as best you can.

You track the arena again from the floor, looking around again for the nearest camera. You turn when you see it's pretty much directly above your head. You wave again, giving Coryo a grateful smile, weakened by the stress of the day's events, and by your inevitable death. Nevertheless, you tried to keep on a brave face; you didn't want him to view you as careless or ungrateful. "Thank you." You say, unsure if there is even a microphone.

You tilt your head at the camera, confusing him as you squint. "Can you hear me?" You ask and he nods, alone in the large room.

"I can hear you." He whispers back to the open air, watching as you swiftly turn around, facing away from the camera.

"If you can hear me, send..." You think about it. What is something they would definitely have available but obscure enough that you would know he heard you? "Send in something odd. Something you're surprised is even an option."

He flicks through the pages and pages of options, unsure what to pick. Bread was too basic, no apples, water, no. Milk? That's weird, and gross. It's perfect. He hits send and watches as you eat your apple, looking up at the opening at the top waiting for something else to come.

You smile as you see it coming in, looking back at the camera briefly before bracing yourself to dodge the flying gift. You wait until the last second, jumping out of the way as it smashes into the wall behind you, the bottle shattering and spraying the surface in milk. Coryo cringes just at the sight of it as you turn and look.

You scrunch up your nose and get closer, running your finger through the dripping liquid to try and identify it. "Milk?" You ask, looking up at the camera.

He smiles to match yours as it grows on your face and you start to laugh quietly. "That is odd, indeed." You giggle, shaking your head. "Well, thank you, dear Coryo. At least I shall have someone to talk to." You take another bite out of the apple in your hand.

"I hope you had a good day." You hum, covering your mouth as you chew. "But you should be getting home soon. I think it is late."

It's so you to be so caring, even finding yourself within the games you're still worried about him. He smiles to himself, shaking his head. He continues to click through the communicuff in the silence that follows, just to get a better idea of all your options, when he finds something better.

Finally, the keyboard makes sense. He quickly types the note out to you and hits send. It's pricey to send a note, putting a dent in your donations, but you had so many it wasn't really a concern at this point. After all, he was your mentor. It only made sense that he would kind of be able to communicate with you.

You perk your head up at the sound of another drone, ready to play this game again. You dodge it more smoothly this time, with a spin that puts a smile on your mentor's face before picking up the small container clipped on the bottom of the drone and prying it open.

You smile when you see it's just a piece of paper. "I'm not leaving. -C"  You read, looking up at the camera.

"Well then," You grin. "Let's talk! It is not day."

He remembers that one. You've said that one to him before- you said it was Romeo and Juliet. He's actually sure he just read it. If the book belonged to him, he would be highlighting and annotating every line you have recited to him over the last couple weeks just like he does in his textbooks.

"That's Romeo and Juliet, if you remember." You remind him, assuming that he wouldn't know it yet. Even if he had started reading it, which he shouldn't have considering you know he's been busy, it was unlikely he'd get that far in under a day. You didn't know that he was inhaling every word on the page in the moments you were off-screen, devouring every blank verse as if it were sacred. To you, and now to him, it almost was. 

You look around as you chew on your apple, stopping when you look at Marcus again. You sigh, sadly, seeing the birds now crowding his body as you quickly begin to make your way over. Lamina sits up as you approach, looking over the edge of the beam. "Just me." You whisper, reassuring her before you shoo the birds away as she lays back down.

You crouch down next to the boy, gently rolling him onto his back. You hadn't the chance earlier, too rushed by the daylight to get back into hiding, but now was as good a time as any. You gently cross his arms over his chest and close his eyes.

You sit back, carefully adjusting his clothes before getting up, as satisfied as you could be with the makeshift burial.

You take a few steps back, retreating quietly to the edge of the arena to get back to your vent. You climb up into the stands just as you hear another drone coming, quickly climbing the stairs so it doesn't fall back down into the ring. You grab it when it's settled, smiling to yourself when you see it's another note.

"No cameras in the vents. Only come out if you need anything. -C"

"Thank you, Coryo." You whisper, looking up at the camera and nodding before retreating inside, closing the fan quietly behind you.

You curl up just past the entrance to the vent, hoping to get some sleep near the fresh air. The exhaustion kicks in quickly after you eat the entire core of the apple, knocking you out in the darkness of the tunnel.

When you wake, it's still dark. You sit up quickly, realizing where you are. Rubbing your eyes, you look out of the vent to see the source of the sound that woke you. You quickly spot a figure kneeling over Marcus's body, blinking to try and see who it is through the sleep still in your eyes.

You should stay hidden, you know that, but from behind at least, it doesn't look like another tribute.

"Sejanus?" You whisper, the vast space carrying your voice to his ears and he quickly turns. You were lucky it was him, but you were able to make a quick escape if it turned out to be someone else. "Sejanus, it's just me." You continue, and as you ease yourself down the debris piled up against the wall he just turns back to Marcus.

You take careful, nearly silent steps as you walk up behind him. "Sejanus?" You say again, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He shakes his head slightly, looking up at you. Tears filled his eyes and stained his cheeks, and you very quickly felt the tears building up in your own eyes as well. "Oh..." You quickly kneel down next to him, pulling him into a hug which he gratefully accepts. "Oh, Sejanus I'm so sorry... I wanted to save him, I did..." You choke on every word as you apologize.

"It's not fair." He sniffs, shaking his head gently under your grip as you soothingly rub the back of his head.

"I know... He didn't deserve that." You agree, ignoring the tears dripping down to your jaw and tickling your skin. "But I want you to know I told him how loved he is, and how sorry we all are. He knew. In his final moments, he knew..."

He tenses under your hold. "It... it was you?" He mutters, pulling away.

"No! No, I-" You quickly defend yourself, head shaking as your arms drop from around him and he looks over at you, understated anger beginning to shine through. "Sejanus, I didn't..."

Any trust he had in you was seemingly gone at that moment. You were worried you flipped a switch you couldn't unturn, that any relationship you had built with the boy had died and been replaced with the thought that maybe you were no better than the game makers themselves. Marcus was defenseless, and it felt like Sejanus thought you took advantage of that.

Your thought process proved to be correct. "He was defenseless! Innocent!" You could tell he would shout if you weren't both so worried about staying quiet. His anger quickly reverted back to hurt. "How could you?"

"I promise, it's not what it sounds like-" You try to correct him, to get him to forgive you as your chest constricts around your lungs. One of the two friends you made in your final days; gone. Just like that.

"Hey!" Another voice startles the both of you, already just a few feet away. You didn't realize how vulnerable you were while you were fighting to prove yourself. You scramble to get up, standing just in front of Sejanus as he knelt on the ground, making no attempts to move. "Y/N. Get out of here." Coryo instructs you, still in his academy uniform.

"Coryo, I-"

"Go hide. Now. It's not safe for you out here." He insists, eyes cold and serious.

"No, not until-"

"I said go. I can't be talking to you, we'll both be punished. Go."

God, he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to do more than talk to you. He wanted to hug you for the first time unimpeded, to grab your hand and pull you outside to where you would be safe, but he knew that neither was an option. You're safer in the vent than you would be in the hands of Dr. Gaul after he was seen talking to you, that's for sure.

He has to bite his tongue to keep from asking you to stay while you scurry off to do as he said and climb back into the vent, his mother's scarf still tied securely around your waist. He hated that this could possibly be the last time you saw him, but he had no choice.

"Sejanus, let's go." He whispers to his friend, once he is satisfied that you are really going.

"She killed him..." He mumbles in response.

"She didn't kill him." Coryo quickly corrects him.

"She said-"

"He begged for their help, and she held his hand while she," He points up the beam where a now sleeping Lamina lay quietly, "did it. Now let's get out of here."

He urges him on and Sejanus looks up at him. "He asked them to." Coryo hisses to iterate his point. "Y/N couldn't do it even then."

Sejanus looks up to the vent just as the door creaks closed behind you. "I just wanted to help..." He says softly, eyes watering.

"If you want to help, the best thing you can do is come with me."

"No, I had to be where the cameras are, I need to show them-"

"Do you think anyone is watching this?" Coryo asks as his friend finally stands up. He was making progress, but slowly. This needed to move faster. "Gaul cut the feed. Come with me now, or-"

"But you said-"

"You can't help them if you die in here and become another body in Gaul's war." Coryo cuts him off. There was very little time for arguments, and that timer was rapidly ticking down. "Go home, spend your father's money, do some real good. And don't blame her. She's just as innocent as Marcus was and you know that. Who do you think shut his eyes? Posed him like that? She sobbed for an entire hour after holding his hand while he died!"

Sejanus is speechless, staring down at his tribute's body.

"I watched it all! She's alone in here. She has no one!" He whispers in his ear. "We are all she has. Me and you on the outside, and if you want to help that girl and all the tributes after her, we have to go right now or neither of us will see the light of day again and she will starve and die truly alone. Please, Sejanus. You're her friend... My friend. Come with me."

Sejanus looks at him, the two boys just inches apart as he nods with a resigning sigh. "Okay." He whispers.

Coryo sighs in relief. "Thank you, come-" He starts to turn back when they both are scared by the sound of footsteps sprinting toward them. "Come on!" He shouts, grabbing his classmate's sleeve and dragging him behind as they make for the red lighting of the exit.

You watch from the slits in the fan, hands perched on the blade as you lean against it to get a better view. Your heart is racing as you watch Coryo and Sejanus book it for the exit. God, you hope they make it.

They almost do.

Until Sejanus trips over the turnstile you know and hate, crying out in pain upon hitting the ground. Immediately, you're pushing the door open loudly and running along the railing, hoping to get closer to the exit without running the risk of cutting through the middle of the arena. "Coryo! Run!" You yell helplessly, careless of whether or not you'll be heard or seen by others. All you wanted was to create a distraction. To save him.

But he doesn't run, even as you see him stumble back in the red lighting of the tunnel, hissing when Bobbin's blade strikes him somewhere. "Coryo!" You cry out again, more out of fear. Was it serious? Was he already in the process of bleeding out?

You quickly hop the railing abandoning your safety, sliding down the concrete and stumbling upon hitting the ground. "I don't want to hurt you!" You hear his voice again as you run into full view of the tunnel, still about twenty feet away.

Just in time to see Bobbin fall back between the metal gate, landing a good ways away.

"Enjoy the show!"

You flinch when your friend steps out after him, chest rising and falling heavily as he stares down at the boy's body. Silent, unmoving, dead.

Then he brings the club down on him again.

[about-faces]

Last night, I was once again struggling to actually write smut for a Harvey/Bruce/Gilda fic, when I noticed a very timely new guest comment on my Gilda fic, Bust. It was the first truly critical response I’ve gotten so far, and while that sort of thing would normally send me into a depressive tizzy, I actually found it really interesting!

So instead of actually writing the ship, as I should have been, I wanted to take this opportunity to think about just why the heck I shipped them in the first place.

Here’s how I responded, with added scans to hopefully better illustrate my point, plus some additions that occurred to me upon drafting this post:

I’m actually glad you raised this point, because I would have felt the exact same as you just a few years ago!

I’m gray-asexual, and I used to be a bit bothered by the rise of Bruce/Harvey shippers, because it was their canonical platonic FRIENDSHIP that mattered so much to me. I gradually warmed up to the shippers, because 1.) I realized I was ace and they probably weren’t, and 2.) they at least understood the importance of Bruce and Harvey’s bond, which is more than I can say for LOTS of official DC media.

Still, something bugged me about the ship, and I realized what it was: the lack of Gilda from the equation. She’s always been deeply important to me, especially her scant older appearances, and erasing her for a Bruce/Harvey ship (even one I’d come to appreciate) didn’t sit right with me.

But like you said, it’s not canon, and I’ve always been deeply invested in canon, even the stuff that’s frustrating and contradictory. So yeah, the throuple would have bugged me too.

Except! It all depends on WHICH canon you’re talking about!

So over the past 15 years, I’ve been obsessed with tracking down the entirety of the obscure, forgotten Batman newspaper comic strip from 1989-1991. I’ve posted the entire thing at @batman-daily, and I strongly encourage you to check it out. A couple years ago, I reread it and noticed something really interesting: the remarkable relationship between Bruce, Harvey, and the latter’s wife, Alice, who is Gilda in every way but name. They are all mutual friends, with Alice even going to visit Bruce alone to help/bully him to take care of himself.

It all reads like a perfect long-game setup for a love triangle, or for Harvey—having become Two-Face—to go after his loved ones in a jealous rage, like he did in Paul Dini’s “Two-Timer,” a story which notably showed that Grace had feelings for Bruce.

With that in mind, consider the final story arc of the newspaper strip, wherein Bruce acknowledges his OWN feelings for Alice and PASSIONATELY KISSES HER, all in a hilariously roundabout way to save her marriage to Harvey! It makes sense in context and is frankly hilarious.

And it works! Because Harvey isn’t jealous! The love triangle conflict you expect NEVER HAPPENS! Because they all love one another! And that love saves Harvey in the very end!

Was it explicitly a throuple? No, but nor have Bruce and Harvey ever canonically touched dicks. And yet the love between Bruce and Harvey in canon is true and real enough that shippers who want to make it sexual are perfectly allowed to do so, because it’s the love that matters. At least, for those of us who aren’t afraid to acknowledge the love between men, platonic or otherwise. And that love is rooted in canon.

So consider this: the mutual three-way-love between Bruce, Harvey, and Alice/Gilda is ALSO canon. That comic strip has been officially accepted as DC multiverse canon in the “Crisis on Infinite Earths: Absolute Edition,” which designated it as Earth-1289.

Furthermore, there’s something else you need to consider: the fact that Harvey HAS been used in love triangles against Bruce in several stories in recent decades. I already mentioned “Two-Timer,” but there’s also Nolan’s “The Dark Knight,” the animated “Gotham By Gaslight” film, and the Telltale game. In various ways, these stories serve to throw a wedge in the friendship between Bruce (the protagonist, whose story serves him) and Harvey (the guy who is going to lose it all, the woman included). I hate that shit. I hate the contrived drama that’s meant to stir up needless added conflict between two men who love each other.

And then, on the other hand, you have Mariko Tamaki’s Gilda story from “Batman: Black and White.” Tamaki depicted Harvey and Gilda being in a distant, loveless marriage, where even on their wedding day, he was constantly ignoring her in favor of work. The only person who could actually get his attention was Bruce.

At the time, this felt an awful lot like that problem I was talking about with the Bruce/Harvey shippers: raising up the gay ship while throwing the woman under the bus. In this case, for the purpose of doing an avenging girlboss take on Gilda. I hated that too, especially when Tamaki didn’t even follow through with the gay subtext in her next, miserable Two-Face comic.

You know that meme of a bride, groom, and best man all kissing one another, while the bride flips off the cameraman in the end? @whipbogard redrew the Tamaki wedding scene as that meme, right around the time I reread the comic strip. And suddenly, everything clicked into place for me.

After a lifetime of never, ever having any serious fandom ships, I fell in love with the idea of Bruce/Harvey/Gilda. Take what the comic strip did and bring it into the mainstream canon I love to spite the canon I hate.

In those great old Gilda stories, she saw through Harvey’s bullshit and knew how to reach him, however temporarily. She could do the same with Bruce. She’d be a valuable third voice for the ongoing toxic relationship between Bruce and Harvey, the one who could love them both while also getting to be frustrated with how fucking stupid and fucked-up both these men are.

Before she was reduced to a ride-or-die killer housewife in "The Long Halloween" (which, I'll grant you, has its own appeal), classic Gilda would actually stand up to Harvey and tell him to cut out his shit or else. I love the idea that she can also see right through Bruce, understanding how very alike he and Harvey are, even if they don't want to admit it.

Writing Gilda this way speaks to me as a longtime fan of both men, while also wanting to try to develop her place, as a woman stuck in the middle of their decades' worth of conflict and angst. She sees these men at their best, worst, and most pathetic/ridiculous, and while she's got the nerve to stand up for herself and call them out as needed, she still loves them nonetheless. For me, Gilda has become the voice for fans just like me, who are helpless to stop Batman and Two-Face from continuing the cycle of violent, toxic friendship, but still loving them nonetheless, and always hoping for the best.

So, at this point, let’s say I’ve at least managed to make you grudgingly accept my reasoning for the relationship. Even if that’s true, I’m gonna guess that the mention of a threesome felt like it came out of left field. I can’t argue with that. I wanted to actually write that as its own smutfic but, being ace, I struggle with that. But I really liked the idea, and as I was writing this, it just really wanted to be mentioned, so I included it.

The response has been positive (until now), which indicated to me that I had been successful in introducing Gilda as a viable third into a slice of fandom which had only shipped Bruce and Harvey. This is fanfic, after all, such things are expected, even encouraged, so I leaned into it.

Now, if I were ever (un?)fortunate enough to write for DC, officially? I doubt I’d have the nerve to go that far. But I’d still want to at least embrace the polycule-coded relationship between those three that we saw in the newspaper comic strip. I think it adds a whole new, refreshing spin on their ongoing dynamics, while being rooted in relationships that were established all the way back in 1942 by Bill Finger.

Finger’s story, at its heart, was all about how love can save a life. How love is the only way to defeat the villain. For Harvey Kent’s part, Gilda’s love was every bit as important as Batman’s unwillingness to give up on his friend. So I’m just taking it one step further within the freedom allowed me by fanfic.

Sorry for the length of the reply, but as you can see, I only came to this shit after several decades of thinking about 80+ years of official material. I hope I have at least been able to lessen your feelings of being jarred out of a story you otherwise seemed to appreciate. For my part, I hope to further develop the potential of this fucked-up polycule in future stories, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll be able to get you on board too. Hope to see you then!

(art by ofossart)

[suffarustuffaru]

sincerely emilia (drabble for Day 2 - Injury / Role Swap / “What do I look like right now?” - rezero s3c1 fanweek!!)

Your name is Emilia, just Emilia, and you’re super duper good at everything you set your mind to! 

It was pretty rough learning how to die with grace, but it’s given you so many wonderful opportunities to learn other things as well! 

See, it only took approximately about a dozen or so loops to figure out how to make a suitable enough cake—you really, really don’t bother counting anymore, counting is such a downer unless it’s for something more fun—but, of course, you’re Emilia, and you can’t just half-ass any of the things you do! Ah, but oh my—you really, really shouldn’t be cursing or anything even in your internal dialogue, so you suppose this may call for another loop! Besides, you accidentally put too much frosting in one corner of the cake when you were writing the big important message on the face of it, so you must correct that as well. 

You duck into the nearest bathroom and bite down on your tongue. It’s good practice, given that’s usually one of the deaths you struggle a little bit with, and you like to practice. You like becoming so good at things that no one can think of you as stupid, silly Emilia anymore. You like being so good that nothing can ever touch you again. 

That you never hurt anyone again.

Anyway, this world has given you so many fun opportunities ever since that day in the capitol! Felt may have stolen your insignia at the time, and Elsa was quite an opponent, but you’ve learned all sorts of valuable things ever since! Of course, after your dozen or so loops spent learning to make a cake, you spent some more learning to make the perfect cake. It was only a tiny bit of looping—maybe about another dozen or more? Besides, you already had the chance to catalog even more important information:

Natsuki Subaru is from beyond the Great Waterfall. Natsuki Subaru, presumably, appeared in the middle of that capitol the same day your insignia was stolen. Natsuki Subaru is your knight because you let him mold himself into something stronger. You let him try, like how you always try and try and try. Because Natsuki Subaru is a stupid, stupid boy who lives life oh-so-recklessly, and yet you can’t help but admire his passion. His heart. You wanted to squeeze it, just a little, that one time you found him dead in an alleyway with his murderers panicking because they hadn’t expected to kill him. They weren’t even trying. And, of course, the knights weren’t trying to kill him. Of course not! And, of course, of course, of course, Natsuki Subaru had to follow you everywhere you went like a dumb puppy wagging its tail, but he can’t come back to life like you can. You’re dead weight. He’s even deader weight. But you can come back. After all the crying and vomiting and screaming you did, after all the times you got beat down and never came back up again, after all the times you let everyone around you die, after all the times you saw your own maids and your own father do horrible things you never would have approved of, after all the times you were targeted and stupid, stupid Subaru got caught in the crossfire, after all the times you saw Geuse—Petelgeuse—you figured it out: you can please everyone all at once and as much as possible so long as you used the power you were forced into. This is the one thing you can control: you make yourself beautiful, force your personality into a better place the same way you can force a broken shoulder back into its socket. The same way you can hear your own voice whisper back to you in a void, I love him, I love him, save him, I love him, save, save, save. The same way you can make sure Natsuki Subaru is safe.

And happy.

You can make sure everyone around you all at once is safe and happy. There were—there were a few errors. But you’re good at pushing forward. You even got over your personal hurdle of disliking lying and broken promises. This is because you’re not broken bird Emilia anymore. In fact, your power proves everyone wrong! How could you not be great after everything? You have it down to even the smallest details— 

“Subaru!” you exclaim as you burst into his room. He leaves the door unlocked; this is out of habit, even if he doesn’t remember her, due to all the times a certain maid had been at her bedside before she—before she—haha—

Subaru, of course, startles awake. He’s a little jumpy, though he can be quite the deep sleeper when he’s really exhausted, but he always has this habit of relaxing the moment he sees you! This is related to how the moon is beautiful, isn’t it is a phrase that really means I love you, along with other such foolish things like how Emilia-tan, is Emilia-chan is some childish form of endearment, and how take care are words that have either made Subaru cry tears of joy or tears of complete and utter despair depending on the loop, and how Natsuki Subaru was a lonely little shut-in NEET who imprinted on you like a duckling would with its mother. He’s frightened at first once he’s fully awake now, practically jumping out of bed and looking around like he’s expecting an attack—like that one loop where he died in his sleep, or that other loop where a certain maid died in her sleep instead and he got caught in the crossfire again, like he always does—but then his eyes land on you. His face brightens, and then brightens even further when you say—

“Happy birthday!” You proudly hold out the cake you’ve made for him. It’s butterscotch, exactly as he said he was craving since the first loop of this current period, and you made sure to write out the words Happy birthday in perfect characters onto the cake as well. Pretty poignant, you think, that his birthday is just a few weeks before the anniversary of that day in the capitol. You look up from the eighteen birthday candles scattered amidst the frosting. 

“It’s a new you,” you add with a cheerful smile. “I’m reaaally glad that you’re here, Subaru, and I’m honored to have another year with you as my friend—” You wink at him. A little teasing, but just innocent enough to only be slightly flirtatious. Subaru runs away in a panic if there’s too much. “—and my knight.”

Subaru squeaks in embarrassment at that. You allow yourself a measured giggle at that, hidden behind a polite hand. Subaru’s eyes roam all over you and the cake you’re holding out for him with your other hand; like this, all the muscles you’ve been working on are showing, all pure heroine grace just the way he likes, and your laugh is also pure grace. Just the way he likes. 

Pure, pure, pure. 

You make sure to alter the formula a little with others, though. A person like Anastasia likes being caught off guard by pure, simple sincerity, and you like seeing her narrow her eyes at you every time you already knew what she was going to say. Otto likes to take other people under his wing, as much as he pretends he doesn’t want to, so you indulgently allow him to advise you on everything and anything, and you laugh when he doesn’t know how you’re predicting every possible move he makes in shatranj. Garfiel’s desire for strength is admirable, and your sparring sessions with him have been some of your favorite loops. The moment he declared that he would have to train to become as strong as you tasted like pure victory. Ram’s singing lessons too, have been your other favorites as well, with the curtness of her voice turning soft when she called you a girl with good timing, and even Julius’s lips kissing your knuckle felt nice in the epicenter of the storm that was all those loops where you kept trying and trying to stop Subaru from walking straight into his death. All of this—it’s another way to improvement. It’s another way to experience every good thing you’ve ever had over and over and over again. 

Pure intimacy.

Purity itself.

But now, Subaru’s bright, flustered grin suddenly fades. It sends a panic in you, a bile curling in your stomach and clawing up your throat until you want to slit your throat. “Aww, Subaru,” you say, as gentle as ever. “Is something the matter?” 

Subaru shakes his head hastily. Clears his throat. “N-No,” he says, “Just—how did you learn to write in Japanese?” 

You pause. Then, “Does Subaru not like it?”

“No, no,” Subaru stutters, gesturing his hands around wildly. “I do like it! I really, really like it, Emilia-tan, promise! It’s—god, this is like a birthday cake out of my dreams, I swear, but—I-I wasn’t expectin’ that you’d, um, know how to—”

You smile again and lightly tap Subaru’s nose. It distracts him again, his cheeks bright red, just as you knew it would. “Well, silly, I’ve been wanting to learn for a while! It’s an ancient language hailing from Kararagi, I hear—” Subaru’s journal was an enlightening thing to look through. You figure that with only a few more loops you could read the entire thing from front to back and then recite it from memory. “—and you seem so passionate about it, so I wanted to learn just for you.”

Just for you. Haha, you’re really the most sincere person in the entire universe, aren’t you?

“Really, Emilia-tan…?” Subaru replies, completely awestruck. 

“Really,” you say, with the tilt of your head. This must be the Subaru that blue-haired maid saw, of course. Silly, silly Subaru, always thinking about other—

Subaru stands there, right beside you, biting down on the inside of his cheek like he always does when he’s uncertain about something. That’s your Subaru, always biting down words when he feels the need to. He’s still starry-eyed looking at you, of course, but there’s a bit of hesitation there now for some reason.

“Emilia…” he says, reluctant, “You look…”

“What do I look like right now?” you obediently ask. You have always had to ask these sorts of things, unfortunately. Half-devil witch. Half-devil witch in league with the actual half-devil witch. Half-devil witch who can come back to life after death. Half-devil witch who can return from death any time she wants, save everyone except for the times it really counts. You can look like a witch, but you can't act like one. Rem is gone. Petelgeuse is gone. Puck is gone. Fortuna is gone, gone, gone. Everyone has been gone in every timeline except—

“You looked a little… scary… for a moment,” Subaru mumbles. Then he shakes his head at a rather vigorous rate. “No, no, I was probably seeing things—sorry, Emilia-tan. I didn’t mean to be such a downer, and I don’t mean to insult you or anything, you’re still as beautiful as ever, I promise!”

You smile. You’re very good at smiling and waving. You can already feel your teeth scraping against your tongue again. “No need to apologize, Subaru. We all see things that frighten us for a moment, don’t we?” Your hand pats him on the head. He does this little flustered squeal at that, as always, and you laugh sweetly at him in reward. “Why don’t we go to the dining room and eat your cake there? You still have to blow out the candles, after all, and I need to go make sure your breakfast is all set too.”

“O-Oh!” Subaru startles. “Emilia-tan, you put in so much work for me and you really didn’t have to—”

You hum to yourself. “It’s okay, Subaru, there’s no need to put in any work today when it’s your birthday!” You reach for his hand with your own, the one that’s not holding the cake, and he eagerly holds your hand back. You squeeze it gently. “Come now, let’s just go already so we can celebrate!” 

This will likely take another loop.

“O-Okay, Emilia-tan,” Subaru says with a grin. And everything’s okay. Because Emilia declares it to be. Because, because, because—

Your name is Emilia, the very best Emilia, and you’re super duper good at everything you set your mind to!

[pearlcigs]

⋆ magnificently cursed

whistling wind, the cold biting at both of your skin. not a single word was said. ache festering between your cold bodies, pressing against each other to save warmth. tears in your eyes, ellie fought back hers. blood pooled around your steadfast feet, the whites of ellie's shoes starting to stain. on the ground laid an infected, croaking as it took it's final breaths. you weren't far behind. blood dripped down your arm, creating vein like patterns. ellie refused to come to terms with it. silently trying to come up with any excuse, any reason to pretend like you didn't just get bit.

no words were said, wavering breaths as you ultimately came to terms with your untimely demise. the harshness of the wind seemed like the least of your worries now. the numbness of your fingertips no longer bothering you. and offhandedly, you wondered what else you complained about that really wasn't all that of a big deal. "ellie..." you voice was soft, scared. you were scared. "it's okay... you're okay, yeah...?" she tried to comfort, she didn't want you to be scared. her efforts were wasted, the sound of her voice, the sound of her disappointment, it made you all the more upset.

"i'm sorry..." you whispered, lips wobbling with sadness, breath shortening. "hey, hey... it's not your fault." she didn't even know what she was saying anymore. the only thoughts that plagued her mind were thoughts of how she could live without you. suddenly, you weren't there in her mind. not when she thought about a year into the future, or two, or five. all she could feel was resentment. to herself, to you, to the god awful world. maybe if you were immune and she wasn't or maybe if she was the one who was bitten instead or maybe—

it didn't matter. you were here, bitten and nonimmune. no chance of a saving grace, no chance of living past today. the paralyzing fear of turning into a ravenous monster. the fear of any moment going from wanting to hold ellie in your arms until sunrise to unsuspectedly wanting to tear her insides out. but ellie didn't care. she would let you. a smile on her face as your controlled mind tore out each one of her internal organs, feasting on them as if they were the best meal you've ever had. listening to the whimpering cries as you did, because you were still in there. still aware but unable to stop the urges. gorging on your love's lifeline like a true glutton.

"til' death do us part." she thinks in a sick manner. choking on her own blood that's rushing through her throat. a shaky, weakened hand on your head as you eat from her body. fingers loosely wrapped around the strands. and with her final breaths she reaches for her gun, placing the barrel to your forehead. you would want this, want her to kill you. ears ringing from the shot that was fired. your lifeless body slumping down next to ellie. with the last of her energy, she cuddles into you, her guts and blood pouring onto your deceased body, painting you both with red.

maybe joel would find you both. worry overtaking him when you don't return. maybe he'll cry over your bodies. deciphering the gruesome scene that's displayed. maybe his heart would ache. the thought of how much you both suffered before the sweet, agonizing release of death. maybe no one would find you at all. your bodies left alone to decay. maybe a stray dog will find your bones centuries later. giving you a proper burial just like dogs do with bones. or maybe nothing will happen. just pure silence.

[ssparksflyy]

my tears ricochet but its jason grace and his 'lover' that he cant be bothered to give attention to

"even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe all the hell you gave me? 'cause i loved you, i swear i loved you 'til my dying day" but its his lover knowing she wasnt perfect, but also knew she didnt deserve the way he treated her.

"i didn't have it in myself to go with grace and you're the hero flying around, saving face" but its his lover watching him be everybody else's hero and prioritizing people he hardly knew.

"and if i'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? cursing my name, wishing i stayed" but its his lover watching him at her funeral from elysium and seeing how pathetic he's acting, saying he misses her, as if he didnt once tell her in an argument she was the last thing on his mind at the time.

"you know i didn't want to have to haunt you but what a ghostly scene, you wear the same jewels that i gave you as you bury me" but it's the way he can't think of anything else but her, no matter how hard he tries, after she's gone. but it's the way that he had the audacity to wear the necklace he gave her when they started dating to the funeral.

"'cause when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave" but its their 'honeymoon phase' where he used to treat her as if she was the only person he'd ever care for.

"and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, just not home" but it's the way he infiltrated her home that once adored her and made it all about him. the way camp half blood was once the only real home she ever knew, but now it wasn't. the way that jason once served as a home to her, only for a very short amount of time, but she was incapable of reaching that home as well.

"and you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones" but it's the way that he now realizes and regrets how much and badly he hurt her. the way she'll forever haunt him. the way he refuses to ever forgive himself and knows that apart of him died in shame that day.

"and i still talk to you (when i'm screaming at the sky)" but it's the way that when she was alive, his lover would beg all the gods for a way out. the way she wouldn't allow herself to leave but begged for the strength to continue fighting for his love that simply was no longer there.

"and when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)" but its the way that jason can't stop replaying the one video he has of her singing by the campfire and the way he can't fall asleep without listening to it.

"you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same" but it's the way that jason could've saved her from dying, but chose to help another camper in need, thinking you'd just get hurt and would heal eventually. the way that decision is the reason why he can't get out of bed in the morning, the way that decision is what causes him to lose himself.

"you turned into your worst fears" but its the way that jason realizes that he's no better than his father, the man he hates most, for being so careless and heartless when it came to somebody who loved and adored him in a way nobody else could.

"look at how my tears ricochet" but it's jason grace and his lover who both lost themselves for each other, but at different times. one of those times, being far too late.

his lover died in battle against an invasion of monsters in the woods of camp half blood. jason saw her just minutes before she passed, knowing he couldve helped her, but instead decided to help the camper who was only a year younger than her and who's name he didnt know. he figured she'd be fine and accepted the fact she'd get hurt, but knew she would heal later. years later, he's still killing himself from within for being unable to answer the question, if he knew it all then, would he do it again?

[seniaasaysstuff]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝🔞| priest!nanami kento x fem! reader

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Priest! Nanami😩 x fem! reader

Warnings- NSFW CONTENT! Rough Anal Sex, Deep throating, Manhandling, Church sex, Blasphemous, Priest kink, Sex on the Altar steps, Confessional sex, Prayer kink, Masturbation, Taking the lord’s name in vain. Father Nanami combusts as reader finishes praying. Oh lord save me.

word count: 1.7k

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Father Nanami’s the head of the congregation. Every two days, Father Nanami gives preaches and his sermons. He teaches the churchcomers about how loved they are in the light of the Lord, and that their sins are nothing compared to God's unconditional love.

You attended his preachings regularly, never missing a day. Today, when he was giving his sermon, you weren’t able to focus. You were so distracted by him. All you were able to think about was Father Nanami fucking you into submission. After the sermon was over, you stayed seated, lost in your thoughts.

Father Nanami noticed and approached you. “Is everything okay?” You shivered as you were pulled out of your chaotic train of thoughts by his deep voice. He had an effect on you. You didn’t know if it was the way he smiled or the way he talked to you that led you to fall in love with the man.

You looked at him and gave him a nervous smile. “Hello, Father. Amazing sermon as always.” Father Nanami chuckled, his eyes seemed to sparkle as he stared at you. “You weren’t paying attention today. Has something been on your mind?” Heat rises to your cheeks as you hear the priest.

The thought of him noticing you and being worried for you in the mass of his devout followers who frequented the church along with you. It was embarrassing but made you feel wanted.

“I- um didn’t know that you paid attention to the crowd during your assembly,” You nervously stammered.

He rested his head against the wall as he hummed in response, his arms crossed over his chest. “How could I not pay attention to one of the most precious women from my flock?” Your face flushed red again. He considered you precious. He considered YOU as Precious. You felt like you were on top of the world.

“Now tell me what’s bothering you?” He questioned, his brown eyes seemed as if they were staring into your soul. They burned with so much intensity that you had to take a moment to catch your breath. You couldn’t look away from him.

“I- I’ve been having these thoughts, Father,” You gulped, feeling nervous. “Oh?” Father Nanami raised an eyebrow at your comment.

“Would you help me do a confession, Father? I think that would help me.” You added shyly. Father Nanami chuckled as he got up and led you to the small confessional. You sat on the wooden bench, in the tiny claustrophobic room.

You were able to catch a glimpse of Father Nanami through the latticed opening and felt your heart race.

“What brings you here?” He questioned, he was somewhat aware of what you were about to say.

You let out a heavy sigh and began. “Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I’ve been having these thoughts, Father.” You spoke, feeling embarrassed.

“Indulge me. What tempts you?” Nanami’s voice had a hint of interest in his smooth, deep voice. You squeezed your thighs shut as you heard him speak. “There is someone father. I’ve been having lustful thoughts about him,” You whispered, biting your lip nervously.

Nanami’s eyebrow quirked up. “Lustful?” He repeated. A smirk graced his lips. He knew where things were headed.

“Are they about someone that you aren’t supposed to have?” You shrank, feeling ashamed. “And how long have you been experiencing these thoughts?” He inquired with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Ever since I’ve met him. He comes into my dreams every night. He occupies my mind wholly. It is so that I can’t help touching myself at the thought of him ruining me,” You whispered.

Father Nanami leaned his head against the wooden door that was separating you, his rosary digging into his right thigh, listening to you speak. He wondered, what a moan would sound spilling out of your lips. “Would you help me wash these sins away Father?” You coyly added, a spark of mischief in your eyes. Nanami held his rosary tightly, trying to keep himself calm.

Your fingers made their way underneath your skirt, brushing over your clothed pussy, “I need you Father,” You moaned as you slowly rubbed your fingers up and down your clothed slit.

The wooden door that was separating you burst open and Father Nanami suddenly barged through. “You naughty girl,” Nanami spoke, hovering over you as he took in the sight in front of him. You looked absolutely debauched.

“Put that hand away and kneel,” He ordered, his voice was gruff and demanding. You immediately obeyed, pulling your hand away, and dropped to your knees in front of him.

“Such a sinful lass. Trying to tempt the man of god. You must serve your penance,” Father Nanami asserted in a low voice, full of arousal.

He sat on the wooden bench and gave his crotch a light pat. “Come atone for your sins,” He demanded, beckoning you over.

You swiftly moved in between his legs. You stared at his bulge through his trousers, you could see the outline of his cock through the fabric.

You hurriedly undid the zipper of his trousers and struggled a bit to get his cock out. Your mouth watered at the sight in front of you. Nanami clutched your hair and pulled on it, using it as a leash as he tugged them. He pushed your head in his crotch. You placed your lips around its tip, slowly taking in his length.

You tried to take all of him but unfortunately, your gag reflex made it nearly impossible. Jolting your head back, a string of saliva connecting your lips with his cock.

Nanami ran his hand across your hair, gently massaging your scalp. “Slow down darling. You’re doing good.” He praised you as you looked up at him, his voice was laced with desire and eyes full of lust. You nodded and focused your attention on his dick, slowly taking him in your mouth.

“Holy mother of-“ Nanami cursed, his hips jerking forward as you bobbed your head up and down on his length, watching him with half-lidded eyes that seemed filled with a burning desire for him.

Nanami grabbed the back of your head and pushed your head, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Breathe through your nose hm?” He whispered as his hand played with your hair, twirling it in his fingers. You tensed, unable to breathe. Nanami noticed that and pulled back, letting you recover your strength.

After making sure you were okay, he slammed his dick in your mouth, pushing his hips deeper, hitting the back of your throat. You could feel saliva dribble out as he thrust his cock in your mouth. “Take my seed and be washed off your sins,” Nanami grunted as he quickened his pace.

Lecherous noises were the only thing heard in the remote enclosed space. With a thrust of his hips, he came into your mouth, he didn’t take his cock out of your mouth, forcing you to swallow his seed.

“Have you achieved atonement, my dear? Or do you require more?” His voice was like a smooth baritone, it was hypnotic as if drawing you in.

You whimpered. “Please, father. I need more,” You begged, your hands clutching onto his legs. Father Nanami’s hand that was holding onto your hair slowly made its way down to your neck, holding your throat. He bent forward towards you and pulled you into a rough kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips and sliding it into your mouth. You broke away from the kiss, panting and gasping for air.

Nanami who was breathing heavily abruptly got up and picked you up, carrying you outside the tiny booth in his muscular arms. The cathedral was empty as he placed you on the velvety steps of the altar. “Kneel before the lord,” He ordered, his leg nudging you to drop to your knees.

Father Nanami dipped behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. You gasped as he lifted your skirt and ran the tip of his cock against your hole, teasing you. “Begin your prayers dear.”

You bowed your head, still kneeling as you began your prayers. “Dear Jesus, help me to make a good Confession, help me to find out my sins,” Your prayers paused as Nanami dipped his fingers in the chrism oil.

A loud moan escaped your lips as felt lubed fingers poking around your puckered rosebud. “Don’t let me stop you, my girl,” He whispered with a slight chuckle and added another finger, gently preparing you.

“H-elp me to be s-sorry for them, help me to make up my m-mind not to sin again,” You stuttered out the words as he curled his fingers inside you. Nanami removed his fingers, making you whimper at the loss of him. His cock was already coated with the oil as he began to push the tip against your hole. “Oh god!” You cried out as his cock was pushed entirely inside you.

A hand gripped your throat from behind and roughly squeezed it. “Saying the lord’s name in vain?” He clicked his tongue in disappointment. You cried out, apologizing to him. “Finish your prayers.” He demanded as he began to push down harder. His hips thrust against you. You groaned, feeling so engrossed in the pleasure.

“H-have mercy on me, O Lord, and forgive me. M-mary, my mother, p-ray for me,” Your voice faltered as he began to quicken his pace. Hearing you pray as he fucked you was turning him on immensely. He felt so much pleasure, feeling you milk his cock that he was about to cum.

“A-Amen.” As you finished, Nanami’s cock pulsed and you could feel his hot sticky cum spill out of you as he slumped on top of you.

Both of you were panting heavily as you sprawled across the velvet stairs. “Jesus… Father, where have you been all my life?” You breathed out, feeling blissful. You were undoubtedly fucked out. He chuckled.

Nanami helped you up from the ground and grasped your chin, tilting it upwards and pulling you into a passionate kiss. “How about I take you out on an actual date?” He asked, a hopeful smile on his face. You laughed. “Are you kidding me? Of course!” You exclaimed as you leaned onto his body.

[daredvssy]

Gloves

Saw an absolutely sinful photo of Copia's old grucifix gloves earlier and immediately set off to write this. Thank god I'm not all that interested in seeing heaven's gates because I'm definitely never going to make it there now! If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here :)

Ship: Cardinal Copia x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2047

Warnings: smut, fingering, glove kink, f!receiving oral sex

It’s not like you meant for it to happen, really. When your beloved had come to you and asked if you could aid him in sorting through some documents he needed to translate, you had been quick to agree to help. After all, he always did so much and so rarely asked for any sort of assistance, and you definitely wouldn’t ever pass up a chance to spend a little extra time with him, no matter how that time was spent.

So yes, you had genuinely gone to his office with the best of intentions, truly meaning to help the Cardinal in any way that you could. And you would have, save for one problem. No matter what you did, you couldn’t seem to focus.

Those damn gloves he always wore were the problem. The smooth black leather stood out so blatantly from the red fabric of his cassock. Combined with the decorative grucifixes that adorned the backs of them, they served to automatically draw your attention to his hands.

And oh, what incredible hands they were. His hands were quite large, and by this point in your relationship you were all too aware of exactly how talented he was with those long, thick fingers. Just thinking about it was enough to have you squeezing your thighs together in a pathetic attempt to fight off a surge of arousal.

As you stared at his hands while he worked, you couldn’t help but wonder exactly how those fingers would feel inside you if he were to leave the gloves on. You already knew the leather was sinfully, luxuriously soft; you were well accustomed to the feeling of his gloved hands caressing your face or holding your own. The thought of that texture instead being used for less innocent touches had left you in a state where it was almost impossible for you to get any work done, or pay attention to anything else.

You were yanked out of your reverie with a jolt when you realized that Copia was looking at you expectantly, apparently waiting for you to answer a question he had asked.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked meekly, a little embarrassed to have been caught staring so intently that you hadn’t even heard him.

“I was asking if you are okay, cara,” he replied. If he was slightly annoyed by your strange behaviour, he very graciously didn’t show it. “You look like your thoughts are elsewhere, should we take a little break?”

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” you agreed, grateful for the suggestion. “I apologize Copia, I’m just a little distracted right now.”

“Distracted? Is something bothering you?” he asked, furrowing his brow in concern.

“I’m fine Copia,” you replied, a small smile gracing your lips. He was always so quick to react if he thought you were feeling even the slightest bit off. “It’s just something silly, really, you don’t need to worry about it,” you reassured him. Copia narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “Mi amore, if it is bothering you then I am sure that it’s not silly. Tell me, what has you so preoccupied?” he pressed, unwilling to let the subject drop.

You flushed bright red, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go until you admitted exactly what it was that had made you so distracted. You took a deep breath in an attempt to steel yourself.

“Well,” you started, staring determinedly at a spot on the floor to avoid meeting his intent gaze. “It’s… your hands, I guess. Or… your gloves, actually.”

“My gloves?” said Copia, mystified. He reached over to you, one of the offending gloved hands gently guiding you by the chin to lift your head and look him in his duochromatic eyes. “What do you mean, cara?” he urged.

“Well it’s just… Your hands look so good in them, and they feel so nice and soft whenever you touch me in them… I guess I was just wondering what they would feel like if you touched me with them… somewhere else,” you admitted, the words flying out of you all at once.

Realization finally dawned on Copia’s face, and you were sure you were going to burst into flames in your embarrassment. You attempted to turn your gaze downward again, but were prevented from doing so when his grip on your chin tightened, insisting that you continued to look him in the eye.

“Come here, bella ragazza,” he directed you, moving his chair back and guiding you to stand in front of him, his desk behind you. “If only there was something I could do about this… distraction,” he said, pretending to be deep in thought. As he spoke, he ran both hands down your sides, coming to a stop with them resting around your waist. You shuddered slightly, his actions only fanning the flames of the arousal you had been feeling since shortly after you arrived at his office.

Copia removed his hands from your waist and leaned back, considering you. Almost unwillingly, a soft whimper escaped you at the loss of his touch. He smirked knowingly at the sound.

“Take this off,” he said, tugging at the hem of your dress. The tone of his voice left no room for argument, not that you would have protested anyways. You loved the times when he got like this, demanding and domineering. Quickly, you did as you were told, pulling your dress off over your head, not caring if you mussed your hair in the process. You were left in nothing but your bra and panties, shivering a little in the cool air of his office.

“Bene,” he said. He gestured towards his desk behind you. “Take a seat.”

Not needing any further instruction, you hopped up on his desk. Just as you had earlier, you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate the ache between your legs.

“None of that, bella,” he tutted, as he moved his chair forward to position himself closer to where you were perched on his desk. “Let me see you,” he demanded.

You huffed a little in response to his scolding, but made no further comment as you opened your legs a little for him.

“More,” he demanded, his hands coming up to your thighs to urge your legs to open even wider. He kept his hands in place as if he was holding your legs open. As he noticed the very clear wet patch that had formed on your panties, the smirk returned to his face.

“Yes, just as I expected,” he said, studying the wet spot intently. You were almost certain you were blushing redder than his cassock, at this point.

“Copiaaa,” you whined, drawing out the last syllable of his name. “Please touch me,” you begged.

“So needy,” he chuckled, teasing. “Don’t worry bella, I will take care of you.” He slowly, very gently dragged one of his gloved hands up from its place on your thigh to softly rub at your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties.

You mewled at the contact, gripping the side of his desk hard. You squirmed a little, trying to coax him to touch you with a little more pressure, to no avail.

He studied your face carefully as he continued to trace feather-light circles around your clit through the ruined fabric, like he was determined not to miss any of your reactions. He continued with this for a little bit, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Copia please,” you blurted out, well past the point where you would have felt any shame about how desperate you sounded.

“Please what?” he replied, feigning confusion. “What do you need, amore?”

“I need you to touch me!” you grunted out in frustration, trying again in vain to wiggle your hips in an attempt to make him touch you with more pressure.

“I’m already touching you, cara,” replied Copia. “You are going to need to be a little more specific.”

You whined again in distress at his refusal to cooperate and make things easy for you. “Harder, Copia please,” you begged.

Copia regarded you for a moment, as though he was considering his options. Just as you thought he was going to ignore your pleas and keep teasing you, he stopped altogether.

“Okie dokie,” he said cheerfully, hooking his fingers in the waistline of your drenched panties to pull them down. He discarded them quickly, and then finally, blissfully brought his hand back up to touch you again, firmer this time.

You hissed at the sensation of the soft leather of his gloves gliding smoothly around your clit, the sensation making you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Is that better, amore?” he asked as he rubbed you, coaxing gasps and moans and all sorts of other noises from your lips.

“Yes, yes Copia,” you moaned out. Satisfied with this response, he turned his attention to your entrance, gathering some of your wetness on his gloved fingers before slipping one of them inside of you.

You keened in approval as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, quickly adding a second finger alongside it. The added thickness of the gloves on his fingers combined with the smooth texture of the leather felt divine, and it wasn’t long before you had to squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation.

While you weren’t looking, Copia took the opportunity to lean in and lap gently at your clit with his tongue, never one to pass up an opportunity to eat you out. Your eyes flew open at the sensation, your hands moving without your permission to grip his hair, moaning loudly.

Copia continued to curl his fingers in and out of you as he licked and sucked at your clit, the wet sounds it produced absolutely filthy.

One particularly well-aimed thrust of his fingers pressed perfectly against your sweet spot, ripping a gasp from your throat. “Fuck Copia!” you cried out, your legs beginning to tremble as he continued to attack that same spot over and over.

“Are you close, brava ragazza?” Copia asked, pausing his tongue’s ministrations to your clit momentarily to await your response.

“Yes, yes I’m so close Copia please please please!,” you practically sobbed.

“Good,” he replied plainly, before returning his mouth to you, sucking hard as he continued to curl his gloved fingers to rub against your sweet spot.

This was enough to send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as you clenched around his fingers, a litany of curses and his name leaving your mouth as he worked you through it. He kept going until you could handle no more, one of your hands pushing at his head to signal your oversensitivity. He pulled back, panting heavily as he brought his other arm up to wipe some of your mess off of his face. He slipped his fingers out of you, holding them up to examine the mess you had made of his glove.

“Come here,” he said, his voice wavering a little with his lust. You slid down into his lap, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, securing you in place with little concern for the wet spot you were most certainly going to leave on his cassock.

He held his fingers out for you to see the wetness he had collected on his gloves.

“Open,” he commanded you. Immediately, you opened your mouth for him, allowing him to slip his fingers in. Without further prompting, you closed your mouth around them, diligently sucking them clean.

“Good girl,” he praised, when he finally removed his fingers from your mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, the chasteness of the action contrasting sharply with what he had just finished doing to you. When he broke the kiss, you leaned forward to rest your head against his shoulder.

“Copia?” you asked as he held you.

“Yes, amore?”

“That was very good, you know, but I’m pretty sure I’m never gonna be able to get any work done now.”

Copia chuckled at this. “Ehe… Well, I say fuck it for now,” he said. “Besides, I just thought of something better we could spend our evening doing.”

You smiled into his neck. You were in for a long night.

[missyandthemisfits]

One Piece Headcanons - Mechanic Girl

A/N totally random prompt I gave myself at work - the first two are most likely to date a mechanic, Law is just a bonus cause he's HAWT- 

Usopp, Franky, Law x Mechanic!Fem Reader

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Usopp 

- Truthfully, Usopp is just smitten from the jump 

- A cute, intelligent girl who's not afraid to get down and dirty, can defend herself when the moment strikes, AND cleans up to be more attractive than Robin (in his personal opinion)??? 

- Sign him the fuck uP-

- All that said, he is so damn awkward and self-conscious, doesn't even bother with the romance, not at first anyway

- You're very fast friends, often times found working together but separate, each of your individual projects keeping you in blissful silence, back to back 

- Every now and then he'll crack a joke or two in-between breaks, stretching his legs and playfully pushing you to do the same

- Your usual response? An eye roll with an involuntary smile, an exasperated "Fine." falling from your lips

- There's always some sort of playful banter between you two, accompanied by some light shoving, perhaps playful poking 

- All the while he is FORCEFULLY shoving his feelings down so hard that his stomach is in actual knots around you and it's this not-so-subtle mix of a pleasure and torture to be around your intoxicating person-

- Safe to say he managed to fall face first in a matter of a few short months, hopelessly in love 

- Doesn't EVER plan on confessing and it's honestly for the best (or so he thinks) ...but it comes tumbling out eventually, one way or another

- One of the rare times there's a disagreement between the two of you - he, for whatever reason, doesn't want you to go with Luffy on what could potentially be his toughest battle yet

- "Ugh, will you give it a rest already?! I'm perfectly capable and you know it!"

- "Not the point! There's absolutely no way I'm letting the woman I love throw her life away!"

- Deafening silence 

- Sweating profusely

- Stuttering cutely trying his damndest to take it back

- "Will you shut up already?"

- "I just mean- mmph?!" 

- You say screw it, ignoring your heart in your ears along with every thought of what could go wrong in this moment 

- He is frozen for quite a while before he kisses back shyly 

- His face is completely flushed and he's at a loss for words after you pull away, fingers still laced neatly behind his neck, caging him lazily

- "...So um... I take it you like me then?"

- You snort

- "Duh!"

- He is relieved and so very, very thankful 

Franky

- This guy is just a liiittle old fashion, honestly preferring a real lady

- That said he'd be lying through his thick metallic teeth if he said it didn't rustle his jimmies to watch a fine woman such yourself straddle metal with all the grace and confidence of a professional grease monkey- 

- Something about the sight gets him a little too excited in his mind, not that anyone (save for Robin) would notice 

- But Franky is Franky and as such, introduces himself with ease, striking up conversations about the kinds of work you do vs work he does while throwing in things like "Wow, quite a woman." and "Gorgeous and resourceful - you're the whole shabang, aren't ya?" 

- A natural flirt, charming to a fault when he actually tries - and an honest man to boot, so you know for a fact he means every word of it

- He gets to know you through random adventures on the Thousand Sunny and realizes pretty quickly he'd like nothing more than to spend as much time with you as possible

- Much less about him 'finding the courage' to ask you and is more about the timing of it all and how he wants to approach the ask

- Doesn't give it much thought tho, cause it happens over drinks, plus Franky is a simple man 

- "So how 'bout it, (Name) - you wanna get hitched?"

- You snort, breaking into fits of laughter, already pretty tipsy. He's grinning at you endearingly, chuckling at the beautiful sight

- He was joking for the most part, but that means there's a small part of him that's actually serious about the proposal 

- He had a feeling he'd worm his way into your heart regardless 

Trafalgar D. Water Law

- He's honestly really impressed, not that he'd ever show it

- You hadn't meant to showcase your workshop to the entirety of the Straw Hat Pirates + Law, but here they stood, laying low for the time being in your admittedly messy place of residence as the Marine's marched by

- It's in the way he takes his time peering at every one of your creations, a faint sparkle in his eye at even the unpolished works in progress

- You had everything from altered weapons, to miniature submarines, to automail, small trinkets littered about in-between the larger works 

- He was in awe

- "Woooah, look at all this cool stuff! You should join my crew!" 

- And as expected, his associate Luffy expects you to uproot your entire life to go galavanting with a bunch of pirates. To his surprise, you say yes - ecstatically 

- "Law, right? I've heard a lot about you."

- He nods with a hum. He managed to get himself stuck with the newest Straw Hat on night watch, but he wasn't exactly complaining

- You'd comment sporadically on random things like the night sky at sea and snippets of your background here and there, but for the most part you were content tinkering and he was content watching you

- It's a gradual thing, the friendship that forms, and it takes a while longer for him to unintentionally seek out your affection, to give you his, however small the gesture

- He becomes aware of his rampant feelings far too late and by that time, he's well adjusted to the lingering touches as he hands you a tool and the subtle glances you share from across the ship

- It's on another starry night that you confess in a very roundabout way

- "I like spending time with you, Law...especially on nights like these."

- And honestly he's inclined to agree, his smirk softer than usual

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

[loveysloveclub]

i wish you would - mark estapa

in which, you mess up your relationship and spend your days wishing for it to go back to normal.

you and mark had always had a strange relationship. what had started as a small friendship had blossomed into something more behind closed doors and during secret meetings.

no strings attached. it’s what you both agreed on the first time you had woken up next to him, and that’s what it was for a short while.

you should’ve known that your poor, precious heart wouldn’t be able to handle the emotional disconnect that came alongside having a no strings attached relationship, so, it was no surprised when you found yourself falling for the estapa boy.

but alas, all good things must come to an end.

it was 2am and you were currently waiting up for the estapa boy. your roommate was staying at her girlfriends dorm, meaning you had the whole place to yourself. he said he’d be over soon, but that was over an hour ago.

you shouldn’t have been bothered by his tardiness in the same way you shouldn’t look for him in every crowd and drop everything to spend even an inkling of time with him. however, slowly but surely, the hockey player had taken over your every thought.

so, him not showing up made you feel as if you had been stood up in a restaurant.

giving in against your better judgement, you quickly dialled his number and let it ring.

“lexi?” he called through the phone. he was yelling over some sort of loud music and you could hear the additional laughter of what seemed to be his teammates. your eyes squinted together as you cringed.

of course he found something better to do.

you opened your mouth to say something but you were cut off by another voice on the other side of the phone. “mark! come on!” a female giggled on the opposite end.

“one second, em. i’m on the phone to lex-“

you couldn’t bare to hear the rest of the statement, much less be on the phone any longer to the boy. so you hung up quicker than you dialled and pathetically cried yourself to sleep.

how could you be so ridiculous? crying over a boy who made it clear from the get go that he wanted nothing more than a hookup. more importantly, why did you ever think that you were ever going to be a no strings attached type of girl?

you read romance books in your spare time and spent any hour of the day where your brain wasn’t busy imagining your epic love. you pictured your wedding frequently and even had all your kids names chosen out. you were a relationship type of girl, and you were stupid for trying to be anything else.

time moved slower over the next few weeks. you avoided mark like the plague, but it didn’t even seem like he was looking for you. you regretted hanging up the phone that night, picturing all the ways everything could be different. but most importantly, you spent your time wishing he would come back. that by the grace of god he would grow the courage you could never possess and come talk to you.

you didn’t even hold any anger towards the boy anymore, you missed him far too much to stay enraged at him and whoever em was.

a knock sounded on your dorm door, and despite it being the middle of the night and you being home alone, you found yourself dragging your feet to open it.

the sight of ethan edwards, looking rather distressed, caught you off guard.

you had met him a few times through mark, but had never had a close enough relationship for him to know where your dorm was, let alone show up in the middle of the night.

“hello?” you asked, crossing your arms over the oversized tshirt you currently adorned. “marks been hurt and he really needs you.” ethan rushed out, tugging at his hair panicky.

your heart dropped, nodding your head quickly, you allowed the edwards boy to drag you out of your dorm building and into the michigan cold.

god, if you knew you’d be rushing out to save a 6 foot something hockey player in the middle of the night, you’d have worn something a tad bit warmer.

“where are we going?” you asked ethan as your eyes searched the courtyard, eyebrows furrowed and forehead creased with confusion.

“he should be right here.” ethan explained, thought his voice was now humorous rather than distressed.

your eyes fleeted in every which direction, but you came up with nothing. “i don’t see him.” you turned to speak to ethan, only to find him missing. your jaw dropped, as well as your hands to your side. he had really dragged you out of bed and into the cold only to abandon you.

“hi lex.”

a yelp escaped you as you spun around, hands raised and fists clenched. you were no more comforted when you were met with mark.

“you’re not injured.” you pointed out the obvious. he stood tall, hands in the pockets of his jumper. he laughed at your observation before taking a step towards you, you responded by taking a step backwards.

“and you’ve been avoiding me.”

“no i’ve been busy.” you retorted.

“no, you haven’t.” mark shot back, and he knew he was right when your mouth clamped shut as you had nothing to say to him.

silence consumed you both as you stood in the cold air.

“i miss you.” he spoke up.

your world seemed to stop spinning on its axis, but you knew he could never miss you in the way you had spent the passed couple of weeks missing him.

“i can’t do this anymore, mark.” you sighed, willing yourself to look anywhere else but him. “do what?” he responded, taking another step towards you. you stood still this time.

“this arrangement me we have going on. i can’t do it anymore. i should’ve never agreed to it.” you shook your head, urging the tears that brimmed at your eyes to go away. you didn’t need to cry in front of him.

“i thought you liked me.” his voice sounded small, almost hurt by your revelation. the sudden difference in his demeanour has you snapping your eyes from your shoes to his face. he looked crushed, as if you had murdered his family in front of him.

“that’s the problem, mark. i like you. but not in the way you want, and not in the way you like me. i’m not built for this no strings attached bullshit. and i’m sorry i never said anything, but i’m saying it now.”

“lexi-“ he began, but you couldn’t hear him reject you like you knew he was going to.

“don’t bother, mark. i came terms to it a long time ago.” you turned to leave, to rush back to the warmth and comfort of your own bed where you would cry yourself to sleep again. but you didn’t get very far until a hand was wrapping around your wrist and tugging you back into them. time slowed to a stop when marks lips crashed against yours, the boy pouring out everything you didn’t let him say.

catching up with what was going on, your hands snaked around his neck before he pulled away. “you’re the stupidest girl i’ve ever met, lex.”

scoffing, you unravelled yourself from him and gave him the hardest shove you could muster. he always knew how to push your buttons. turning to walk back to your dorm, an arm slipped around your shoulders and began the walk with you.

“i didn’t think eddy was gonna pull off the acting to be honest.”

“he wasn’t very good.” you lied, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand raised to play with marks fingers.

“then why did you come running out here all “where’s my mark?”” his voice was high pitched as he mocked you, earning him another shove.

“quit yapping, estapa. i’m cold.”

[sanemisstalker]

As much as I sexualize and objectify him, I just know Sanemi would be so incredibly difficult to get into bed with. For good reason.

CW/ SEVERE Angst/ am.... am i depressed? Maybe, lol/ Discussion of CA / DV / Men's Mental Health / Sanemi is afraid of his dead dad / MANGA SPOILERS/ Panic Attack / ANXIETY / SH - Just general no good times as a result of Sanemi intentionally isolating.

This isn't headcanons or anything, I've just had my fair share of Sanemi run ins in my life, and I know He'd be afraid of you.

Afraid of himself and being just like his dad. He looks just like the bastard. If he didn't have the white hair, it'd be identical. He has those thousand yard stare eyes, and that big, imposing frame. After his mothers death, I just know he starred at that thing for days. Watching it fester and scar... it was easier before that one came in, to separate his face from his fathers- What an ugly gash.

And he was just like his dad, to Genya, at least. He wanted more than anything for Genya to just be happy, and he knew the stupid boy was doing it all for him. To earn his big brother's love that Sanemi had been intentionally depriving him of. And it sickened Sanemi.

He had to make it painfully clear to Genya every step of the way that nothing he did, no matter the triumph, no matter how proud Sanemi was- was ever going to make Sanemi snap and just say it.

Genya was too good to be good enough. Sanemi thanked his father, briefly, for that trait about himself. Sanemi turned everything off the day his mother died. Everything except for his dad.

Genya did not deserve a tie to the woeful underbelly of the world. Those silly things Genya said after Sanemi killed their mother were Sanemi's saving grace. He never would've been brave enough to start removing himself from Genya's life if Genya hadn't believed he opened the door.

It's why he tried to take his eyes when he found out Genya had been eating demons- Genya was a man he just couldn't protect anymore, because Sanemi kept tabs and he hadn't known that about Genya for a while, now.

It was all so... scary, Sanemi struggled to even think about it sometimes. Anytime he would a pit would grow in his stomach. Anytime he thought about snapping and reconciling with his brother, telling him how proud he was- that pit would be right back. It was like he was starving.

And God, when he meets someone he loves it stings. It stings because Sanemi was always the one walking the others out of the house when dad got bad. It stings because he knows exactly what that bastard did to his mom- he knew the movements intrinsically, and that's all he knew how to do to those fly away demons he'd been slaughtering for months as a teenager.

Back when he could still resceitate a smidge of his empathy for the things. He just started imagining them as his dad.

Because the pathetic piece of shit died before Sanemi could get penance. Kyogo should've been alive for Sanemi to kill, to get big and strong, and beat his father down into submission like Kyogo had been beating him, his mother, and his siblings down for years...

He should've been alive to do the bare minimum and protect his wife- to have fallen to slaughter in her stead. Because there should've been a bigger man in the house- To not only protect Shizu, but to protect Sanemi... but there just wasn't.

The love stings because every time he's reminded of how weak he is.

He loved Kumeno. With everything in his body, he knew he loved Kumeno. He wouldn't dare say a word. He had such a soft smile, Sanemi felt yet another drop of color fade from his vision as he watched Kumeno's smile fade away.

God, he loved Kanae more than he hated the world. He knew it radiated off of him when she entered a room- Because she treated him so softly. The news had shaken him for weeks. He doesn't even quite recall where he went or what he did.

He was greedy to want anything when he wore that uniform and wielded that blade. The first time in a long time he bothered to try and love, the world reminded Sanemi of his place.

And good for it, too, He'd figure. He would've beat Kanae, he bet. Would've reduced such a kind and caring woman to a sniveling dog beneath his fists.

It was better, that God took her away. She was safer from him dead.

His thoughts are never this formulated. They're thicker with self-bashing and the like. He can't bare to look at his face, only his torso- He crafted that himself, his dad was never this strong.

I know if he likes you, you'd just never know. It'd be like pulling teeth, but somehow worse. He doesn't sleep with anyone because that's disrespectful. No woman is an object to be used once, maybe seven times, and then cast off to deal with the brunt of it.

I'm sure beating up the Kakushi that made Mitsuri's uniform was more than cathartic for him.

I'm sure, if you manage to get through to him inspite all of this, he'd be afraid to touch you. He yanks his hand away, and never initiates kissing, even though it's all he wants to do.

He cries when he loses his virginity because fuck, god is going to yank you away. and he knows he can't do anything about it because he messed up and weak. He got so close to you, and god is going to smite you for it.

He's never the one that bares the runt of his sins.

He can't finish. He has a panic attack, it's visceral, and terrifying, he cant even manage to cry. It takes every bone in his body not to lash out screaming, breaking, and destroying while you cradle him against your chest, because God, fuck, he's a mess.

It would take him months to even consider it again. He begs you to leave him and find a man that can treat you better, because it just isn't him-

And it hurts because you see how strong he is to just be alive everyday. Sanemi has never been strong, though. And he doubts he will ever be strong enough to love you correctly-

It's not like him to quit, though.

God I might part 2 this, he's such a little fucker lmao.

[lvstgojo]

my kind of crazy - satoru gojo

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: ̗̀➛ contains: satoru gojo | sfw

☁︎ summary: gojo is obsessed with you and thinks about some of the crazy moments that made him love you

₊˚ෆ warnings: none, just a sappy gojo

˚ · . word count: 718

✎ this was based off the song "my kind of crazy" by brantley gilbert. i have loved this song since i was a child. i thought he seemed so in love with the woman he was singing about.

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The sunshine had begun to sneak its way into your shared room with the strongest sorcerer in the world, Satoru Gojo. While you lay sleeping soundly, Satoru had already awakened and was staring at you, thinking about all the reasons why he loved you. He often woke up before you, but he would never leave the bed until you were awake. He didn’t like the thought of you waking up and thinking he had left. If there ever was a chance he had to leave before you woke up—he was a teacher, after all—he’d wake you to let you know he was leaving. You would drift back to sleep after he kissed you goodbye.

This morning, however, he didn’t have to leave. Satoru was a busy man, but today, he finally had the chance to relish the peace and quiet of his home with the love of his life sleeping by his side.

You were a wild one, but he loved that about you. You matched his crazy, if not surpassed it.

You’d come into the living room wearing one of his t-shirts and his blindfold, proclaiming that you were “the one and only Satoru Gojo” and “the strongest and most handsome guy to ever exist.” You’d be blocking the TV, but Satoru had long forgotten about whatever he was watching the moment you graced him with your presence. He would much rather watch you, anyway.

“Well, Satoru,” he would say, “how about when you’re done saving the world from curses, you let me get your autograph?”

You’d smile and lift up the blindfold so you could see him, complaining about not being able to see through it and not understanding how he could. He’d explain his Six Eyes Technique to you as you listened intently, and he adored how you always paid attention when he spoke.

You’d visit him at the school sometimes to sit in on his class. You weren’t a sorcerer, but he loved having you there. You got along with his students so well, and he even loved it when you mocked him and made the kids laugh. He’d pretend to be upset about his girl making fun of him, but secretly, he didn’t mind at all. It made him excited for the future, for the children you’d have together.

He hated attending meetings with the higher-ups, but he knew that once he left, he’d have messages from you, telling him about whatever you were doing or whatever was on your mind. You worried it might annoy him, having to read it all, but he looked forward to it each and every time so he encouraged you to continue. Satoru loved coming home to you after those meetings, eager to rant to you about them.

Anyone with eyes could tell how obsessed Satoru was with you, but Suguru really got to hear about it. If Suguru let him, Satoru would talk his ear off, not that it bothered him anyway. Suguru loved seeing his best friend happy. Satoru would tell him about all the crazy things you did—how the way you’d pout made him want to drop everything and give you whatever you wanted. How you never lost any disagreement, though you didn’t have many. He just thought you were too cute to stay mad with. He never wanted to be upset with you. Satoru spoiled you, and you loved every second of it.

“She’s a wild one,” he’d tell Suguru as they watched their students practice on the training field.

“She’s my kind of crazy. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

While he was thinking about you, he had pulled you back into his side and fallen asleep again. It wasn’t long before he heard your beautiful voice.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

When he opened his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile, wondering how he had gotten so lucky. He couldn’t believe that he got to share his life with all your crazy antics. He loved you so much that it was all worth his while.

- kasai ☁︎