#Hey everyone look at this dummy
Note
Your stories are boring, who will watch that shit?
Oh no I'm so sad no one will ever watch or read my stories I will be alone and forgotten 😭 I'm soooooooo boring and useless.......
... Pfff
Deal with it 🤣🤣
If you don't like it I don't care ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Besides this is only for fun ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧
I love what I'm doing!! :DDD
If someone like you who can't even show themselves and uses anon to talk bad about me I think you are a wuss.
Come on show yourself and tell it to me again I will not be scared tell it to me again and again and I won't care :]
And thank you for the encouragement I'm going to make more of my story!!! :D and more art!!!!
Wow! My first ever hater 🥺 I can't believe it
#Hey everyone look at this dummy#anon ask#anonymous#send anons#thanks anon!#:D#ttte#thomas the tank engine#ttte corrupted au#ttte humanoid#show yourself#please do#And besides.... I think I know who you could be....
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
In A Good Way
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)
a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
In A Good Way - Faye Webster
warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.
You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.
She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.
“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.
“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”
You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.
Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.
You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.
“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”
You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”
Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.
“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.
“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.
“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.
“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”
Her eyes meet yours.
“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”
“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”
Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.
You smile.
You see her eyes soften.
She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.
Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.
On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.
You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.
You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.
Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.
“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”
“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.
“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”
“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”
“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”
Percy chuckles a bit.
“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.
“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.
“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.
“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”
“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?
“And people think I’m a big deal?”
“Well, sorta-”
“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”
Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.
“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.
“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”
“Maybe,” Luke concedes.
“Great. Where do we start?”
You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”
—-
You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.
You sit down next to her.
“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.
“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”
“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.
“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”
She hums.
“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”
She shoots you a bored look.
“Don’t say horrible things like that.”
You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”
“Oh, I know.”
—-
“What happened to you?”
You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.
“What?”
She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”
You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.
“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”
You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.
“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.
“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.
“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”
She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.
“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.
“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”
“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”
“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.
—-
Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.
You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.
You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.
After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.
Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.
“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”
You know these rules by heart.
Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.
She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.
“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”
You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.
Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.
“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.
The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.
Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.
“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.
Capture the flag games are taken seriously.
She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.
“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.
“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.
She smiles, a full toothy grin.
“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”
Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.
You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.
“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”
She just smiles.
—-
One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.
The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.
“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.
“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.
Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.
“Hi, Luke,” you smile.
He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.
“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”
Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.
You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”
You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.
“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.
As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.
“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.
Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”
The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.
“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”
Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.
He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.
Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.
It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.
They grab the flag and run for the beach.
The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.
“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.
“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.
Matty helps you up.
“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”
“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”
Matty claps your shoulder.
“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”
And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…
“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.
—-
The scream scares you.
All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.
“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”
“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.
“Clar- wait, Y/N!”
But you’re already long gone.
—-
You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.
“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”
You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.
You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.
“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.
“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.
You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?
“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”
You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.
“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”
She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.
You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.
“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.
“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”
She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.
“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.
—-
You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.
She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.
She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.
You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.
“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”
She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.
“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.
You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.
“Oh, you can.”
“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.
“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”
She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.
“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”
“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”
You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”
She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.
“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.
You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.
“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”
“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”
“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”
Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.
She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.
“He broke it,” she whispers.
“Broke what?”
She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.
“He broke my spear.”
“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.
“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”
You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.
Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.
Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.
And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.
Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.
If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.
—-
Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.
She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.
When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.
It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.
“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”
“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.
“C’mon, baby, who?”
“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”
“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.
You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.
“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.
“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”
“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.
“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”
Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.
“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”
You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.
When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.
—-
clarisse, about to beat up percy
y/n: oh no no no no you don’t
clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍
—-
y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles
clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE
—-
y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke
—-
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader#pjo x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
affection, ln4 ❀ chapter i. clueless
masterlist || chapter ii
in which everyone can’t believe that a certain mclaren driver and f1’s resident rich girl aren’t dating already
contains: smau, oblivious lando & oblivious reader
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 223,211 others
yourinstagram a much needed vacay
view all comments
landonorris im still offended by the lack of an invite
yourinstagram thailand is for the girls, not sorry!
bsfsinstagram there was a strict no lando norris rule for yn
user i have gyat to go to thailand
liked by yourinstagram
carlossainz55 the book is upside down dummy
yourinstagram i’ll turn you upside down
oscarpiastri what an informative post yn
yourinstagram hehe, can’t wait to see you
user omg yn at the next race???
user literally what are all these f1 boys doing in her comments
user shes a nepo baby i think
user her dad is mclaren’s biggest sponsor so she’s able to attend a lot of f1 events
user my fav honorary f1 wag
yourinstagram wag?? i’m very much single thank you
daniel ricciardo 🌚
yourinstagram don’t give them things to read into daniel.
lanny
i miss you
hey yn
miss youuu
when are you coming back
thailand can’t be that fun
y/n/n
thailand is totally that fun
in fact we’re about to go on a boat
lanny
you can go on a boat over here
y/n/n
it’s not the same 🙄
i don’t know why you’re so hung up about me taking a vacation
monaco gets boring sometimes
lanny
yeah but the second i get back from racing around the world you’re already gone
y/n/n
well i’ll be in the uk just in time for silverstone
lanny
you’re going back home?
y/n/n
my father said it’d be good to be around for a home race
so i’ll be in the uk for some time probably, it’s been a while since i’ve been back
lanny
okay good
i better see you cheering for me
it’d be embarrassing if my best friend was rooting for someone else
y/n/n
i’ve got my mclaren 4 cap ready to go
cant wait to see you ❤️
liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 533,444 others
lando.jpg home dump
view all comments
yourinstagram and it’s all just a bit too much…for littol lando norris
lando.jpg im hiding in your walls
yourinstagram creep
maxfewtrell stream time? 🤔
lando.jpg let me race first bro
user not lando feeding yn pasta and lobsterrrr
carlossainz55 aye, was this a date??
yourinstagram he wishes, he got me from the airport & we went straight to eat
danielricciardo who’s that cutie?
yourinstagram i’m right here!
danielricciardo oh..i meant lando
oscarpiastri 😬
user im so confused, are they dating??
user no, but they’ve been like best friends since lando’s rookie year in mclaren
user shes better than me, i would have fallen in love…
liked by mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 745,234 others
yourinstagram couldn’t be prouder of my boys!!
tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri
view all comments
mclaren loving the love from our papaya girl 🧡
yourinstagram mwah
user yn ate today on the paddock
user she’s wearing lando’s hat im gonna cry
bsfsinstagram ugh get these men off my feed and show me ur pretty face
yourinstagram i was held at gunpoint and told to post this :/
landonorris the 6th photo…
yourinstagram ikr can you believe that loser got p2?
landonorris not too much now
oscarpiastri i look crazy
yourinstagram you look so cute??
oscarpiastri you shoved a camera in my face while i was eating
yourinstagram i did nothing wrong 🥰
user who was the man you were with on the paddock though?
yourinstagram my father!
user girl your daddy fine
liked by bsfsinstagram
bsfsinstagram user you have great taste
maxfewtrell send me that lando photo please
yourinstagram will do 🫡
45 likes
onlyyn i luv a good arfter prty
view all comments
danielricciardo me when i’m on the hennessy
onlyyn hehe
landonorris im looking for you
bsfsinstagram please don’t do anything crazy babe 😭
onlyyn i’ll try
lanny
y/n
where are you?
i thought you were with oscar
y/n/n
i let oscar leave! he looked tired
lanny
you should’ve told me that then
i would’ve kept an eye on you
are you drunk
y/n/n
i’m not a child oscar
lanny
*lando, but i’ll ignore that
and i’m not saying you are yn
there’s just people here that can be like
weird is all, who knows
are you drunk??
y/n/n
i don’t know, i’m not sober
are you drunk
lanny
i’m not sober
y/n/n
i thought you hated alcohol?
lanny
carlos convinced me to do some shots with him and max…
i regret it a little
do you wanna go home
y/n/n
yea
my feet hurt
lanny
i’ll carry you until we get to an uber
so can you tell me where you are now??
y/n/n
i’m in the bathroom
lanny
don’t move, i’ll come get you
y/n/n
god you’re the best ever lando
lanny
yeah i know 😁
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 smau#f1 x black!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
ALL THE TIME (IF YOU WERE MINE) ★ masterlist.
pairing: jake x reader
warnings: explicit sexual content, human!fem!reader, porn with a lot of plot, establishing feelings, reader's nickname is "Spellman/Spelly", size kink, face sitting, finger fucking, manhandling, begging, riding, dirty talk, squirting, whatever you call this, breeding kink, creampie | wc: 19k
note: i became obsessed with jake + spelly ᨳ ˶ᵔᴗᵔ˶) thank u for the love on fantasize + i hope u all love the development between our fav dummy avatar and our fav scientist!!
★ ⏤ sequel to fantasize
⏤ Now that feelings are known and the lucky chance to be alone in the lab together arises, Jake wants to go even further than he did before.
“Hey, marine, where’s your log from last night?”
Of course, the first thing out of Grace’s mouth when Jake rolls himself into the front workspace is something to do with video logs. Jake does everything he can to stop himself from groaning in her face and presents her a smile, one that she can no doubt see right through when he appears in the dim daylight falling through the windows.
“It’s not there? Must have deleted itself.”
Grace’s eyebrows raise. “Are you trying to tell me that the camera just…deleted the footage? I have everyone else’s logs on here except for yours. Conveniently for you…”
“Can’t even make a log right,” comments Norm — Jake had almost forgotten all about the eldest Spellman and turns his head to see him, and quite frankly, even just looking at Norm this morning feels like a silent victory, the excited feeling of thrilled anticipation bubbling in Jake’s stomach.
“Ask your sister,” Jake says in reply, almost laughing at loud at the contorted face of disgust that appears in replacement of Norm’s sneer, “she saw me last night.”
“Here we go,” Norm sighs.
Luckily for Norm, Grace buts in: “Enough, you skxawngs. Just make a log while it’s all still fresh.” She pauses then, and pulls out one of her beady eyes to stare intently at Jake, “It is still fresh, right, Jake?”
“Fresh as a daisy, doc,” Jake replies, but his eyes have already begun wandering around the lab for the notably absent scientist he enjoys seeing the most in the mornings — the same scientist he fucked stupid last night and hasn’t stopped thinking about since.
Considering your unbelievably obvious feelings for Jake, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he managed to entice you out to the little forest behind the shack, and yet he still can’t believe that it even happened. There’s a phantom tingle in his stomach as he thinks it over — did it even count when he did things in his avatar?
Everybody has noticed your interest in Jake, including Jake himself, and yet a strange doubt gnaws at his mind as his eyes wander across the lab, seeking you out, looking for signs of you on the counter or out the windows. More than anything, he hopes he hasn’t completely severed his chances with you.
What if you woke up and regretted all of it? What if you woke up and despised him all of a sudden? That probably wouldn’t surprise him, since there’s plenty of anti-Jake sentiment being spread in the lab right now, and he’s never had too much of a good thing before it slips away somehow.
Still, there’s a small crack inside of Jake that remains open with the possibility that maybe everything is fine.
Jake doesn’t know how long he’s been staring out the window for before Grace speaks again, but when he looks over at her, he’s grateful that she’s not looking at him already to catch him in his daydreaming.
“I don’t hear you making that log, marine,” she says carefully, her eyes once again glued to her microscope. It’s a wonder she doesn’t just fall asleep next to the damn thing.
Jake tries his best to look casual as he rolls to the end of the lab and fiddles with the camera, asking, “Where’s everyone else?”
Grace shuffles and swaps one of the samples under the microscope. “Outside. I sent Little Spellman out to collect a sample from the fyìpmaut tree that we noticed on our first outdoor sweep. I think in the next few days, we might even get a bit of fruit from that sucker.”
“That’s a squid fruit tree, by the way,” adds Norm, and Jake casts him a filthy glare that Norm unfortunately doesn’t see since he’s got his nose buried in some papers.
“I know that,” Jake says in the calmest voice he can.
Does Norm forget that Jake goes through what burns down to a routine of drills with Neytiri on almost everything and anything the woman can think of that can be found on Pandora? From his, quote, “valuable field research”, Jake thinks he’s learned more about Pandora and what you can find in the forest than Norm has in three years.
“I sent Chacón out with her so she can stretch her legs,” Grace continues, having no energy to waste on trying to get Jake and Norm to coexist peacefully. “I don’t think she even goes outside unless it's to fly, so it’ll do her some good.”
Jake looks out the window again. He wishes he could at least see you — maybe that would make the twisting discomfort disappear. He tries very desperately to think about last night again, running his memory over every detail until he knows for sure that he wasn’t overanalysing or even imagining the entire thing.
He likes you. You like him. He fucked you in the forest. He liked it a lot. You sounded like you liked it a lot. You looked sad to see him disappear before going inside. He didn’t imagine any of that, did he?
Grace’s chair creaks menacingly and it makes Jake switch on the little camera quickly and start listing off whatever he did with Neytiri the day before. It would be hilarious if he were to accidentally mention the fact that he stretched out Norm’s sister and filled her up with cum, but Jake has the decency to know that the timing isn’t right.
Plus, he kind of wants Norm to figure it out for himself.
As he recites his day, all he can think about is how he wants Norm to find out — when he’s out on a pathetic patrol around the shack, maybe he’ll get a whiff near the forest; god, Jake hopes you’re walking with a goddamn limp just to rub salt in the wound. There are too many ways, too many possibilities, and Jake has to work overtime to fight the grin that wants to appear on his face.
The story he’s sharing about tracking yerik through their shit isn’t funny at all, and he’d hate to have to try and explain why he’s smirking while he’s telling it.
Jake can’t think of anything else to say to drag on the log that Grace apparently wants so badly, so he calls it a day and switches off the camera. He then steals another glance out the window and is absolutely delighted when he can actually see you this time.
You’re sprinting with Trudy back towards the lab while frantically looking up above your head. Jake can’t even see the sky from where he’s sitting, and suddenly feels a pang of pity for you for having to sit in here until Grace essentially gives you the green light to go outside.
No wonder the stars had been so fascinating last night — you can’t see anything through these frosted glass panes that the science department were forced to call windows.
Jake feels his heart pounding in his chest when the sound of the doorway pressurising fills the room, followed by Trudy’s relieved sigh as she whips off her exo-pack and takes a deep breath of air. But he’s not looking at her as desperately as he is at you, and Jake doesn’t know if it’s the afterglow of fucking you last night or if it’s two months' worth of feelings rushing back towards him like a tidal wave, but you look so beautiful that it leaves him sitting there dumbly, taking it all in.
“Fucking rain,” Trudy sighs, immediately b-lining for the fridge. Since they first got here, the fridge has expanded in size after a few trips back to Hells Gate for emergency supplies or board meetings Grace couldn’t get herself out of, and now the fridge can store beers that Trudy is all too pleased about cracking open.
“Good timing,” notes Grace as she turns in her chair. “You get it?”
“Yep, here,” comes your voice, and Jake watches quietly as you hand Grace her priceless sample. “The ground near that tree is really wet, though. If you want more samples, I won’t be going until the rain stops.”
“That tree won't bear fruit until the end of the week, maybe,” Grace replies, waving her hand dismissively. “…This is a good sample, Spellman, great eye.”
“Thanks,” you laugh in reply.
Your back is still facing Jake, and each second you waste looking away from him makes Jake feel more impatient to see your eyes on him again. He watches very observantly as you stretch your arms up with a small groan, the bottom of your tank rising as you reach for the ceiling and iron out the aches in your bones.
Grace looks at you for a minute and her brows pinch. You clearly don’t notice as you turn in Norm’s general direction and make a comment about how terrible his notes were last night, but Grace doesn’t stop eye-balling you until she throws a short glance at Jake and narrows her eyes.
He says nothing, dares not even move until Grace raises her eyebrows as if it will clear the calculating expression off her face. She sets the sample down on the counter and leans her weight on her elbow, reaching into her pocket for a cigarette.
“Hey, you’ve got a crazy ass rash on your chest, Spellman,” Grace says suddenly, and you whip around to look at her so quickly that Jake has to refrain from sighing in pity. “What happened?”
You peer down at your chest and Jake knows you’ve remembered and by now noticed the mark on your chest that is shaped like Jake’s mouth. For a second, there’s a tense silence, and Jake feels his stomach turning, half out of anxiousness and half thrill — could this be? Could this be the moment everyone finds out?
He gives Norm a single look, but he’s not even interested in what’s being said, for he’s rearranging the notes he’s been reading and turns to his binder of other random papers.
“One of the samples Jake found for me kinda made me go all itchy,” you lie, very flawlessly too, and finally, you look at Jake.
It’s as if a volt of electricity has been sent through him — Jake has no idea what has suddenly made him feel this way, but something tells him it might be last night; might be the fact that you’re the most beautiful person in the room, on Pandora, in the entire universe. His mouth goes dry.
“Fngapsutxwll?” Grace asks, and when you look back with a gentle and clueless nod, she frowns and sneers at Jake, “I told you to avoid bringing her carnivorous plants, Jake!”
“I didn’t know it was gonna make her break out in hives,” Jake replies. The lie is so natural that Grace scoffs loudly in reply.
He hasn’t even brought you any fngapsutxwlls, and yet here he is, lying about it just for the sake of protecting this secret that more than anything, Jake wants your brother to know about.
“Where is it?” asks Grace. “I need to document this.”
“I told you that taking samples from Jake was a bad idea,” Norm pipes up, giving you a sympathetic, tight-lipped smile.
“Oh, quit bouncin’ my dick, Spellman,” Jake groans, looking away from you with reluctance when you peer over at him.
“You’re a danger to this department. And a danger to my sister.”
“Shut up, Norm,” you huff, marching towards Jake and wrapping your arms around his head in a way that somehow smushes the side of it against your chest. Hey, Jake’s not complaining — he knows this is your own slight rebellion against your brother, but he will relish in this feeling and enjoy the displeasure that writes its way onto Norm’s face.
“Your sister’s quite capable of making her own decisions around here,” Grace says, her voice tired suddenly. “And the very last thing I wanna do is listen to you fucking assholes fighting. It’s actually boring me. If you’re going to keep at it, I’ll send you back to the Gate, Norm, don’t tempt me. If it weren’t for the fact that this jarhead is days away from becoming one of the People, then believe me, he’d be back there faster than you can say Eywa. So knock it the fuck off.”
Message received: Norm all but deforms into a ball and rolls away to the bunks, with nothing to say for himself besides a disgruntled sigh as he disappears. Jake studies the sound of his footsteps as they stomp down the length of the metal corridor, but then he tunes his senses back to the feeling of your heartbeat lightly thudding against his temple, your hands cradling his head like a baby.
He savours the feeling for a long minute before pushing the boat out and snaking his hand up the back of your leg, pulling you closer against him.
For a second, Grace glances over at Jake once more and then gives you a warning look. “And don’t encourage them, Spelly, you’re better than that.”
“Sorry,” you laugh, and Jake melts into the soft curve of your breasts like a cold animal craving warmth. Grace spares another fleeting moment looking at you with her menacing beady eye, the same she likes to give Jake whenever he does something slightly wrong, and then she turns back to face her microscope, giving Jake the opening to press his fingernails into your bare legs and look up at you.
The expression on your face when you peer down at him makes a smile bloom across his mouth before he can even stop it. He tilts his head back appreciatively and takes it all in; the look of slight shyness on your face and the soft yet slightly cheeky grin where your mouth is.
Little Spellman, his woman — decorated with the imprint of his mouth on your tit, a kind of ethereal glow on your skin that he knows he helped put there.
For a moment, despite all of the thoughts whirling around in Jake’s head, he can’t think of anything to say to you. All he can think of saying is something absurdly stupid about last night, but he’s acutely aware of Grace on the other side of the room, and Trudy floating in and out of the hallway as if she can’t quite decide on where to go.
Slowly, and then all at once, you unravel yourself from Jake and push away to lean your lower back against the lab desk.
His eyes wander all over your face before you ask, “Sleep well, Sully?”
He sighs from the back of his throat, like he’s thinking, and then relaxes slightly.
“Best night’s sleep in a while,” he replies, folding his arms, watching the way your eyes glimpse down at the very slight curve of his biceps — they’re nothing on his avatar’s physique, but he finds with amazement that you somehow still find something to look at with fondness.
He has no idea why you like him so much, or why you’re still looking at him like that despite having been tangled with his avatar just last night. On one hand, he knows it’s flattering that somebody likes everything he doesn’t about himself, from his boring personality to his dumbness to his disability. On the other hand, Jake knows that you could do ten thousand times better than with him — even if he factors in the Na’vi body that he suddenly feels more comfortable in than his real one.
“I didn’t even hear you get back in,” Trudy says, deciding to stick in this part of the lab rather than enter the dark lair of sulk that Norm has channeled in the bunks. She drags one of the low stools over with an obnoxious screech, and Jake has to tell himself it’s fine.
He likes Trudy, likes that she’s a good friend and takes his side on things, but right now, he just wants her to go away; he wants everyone to go away so that he can steal five extra seconds with you before he has to roll back to the link unit and find Neytiri.
“Well, I thought I’d be considerate and roll by everyone’s bunk extra quietly,” Jake replies. “You guys were out like lights.”
“I feel like all I do is sleep around here,” Trudy mutters.
“You’re welcome to join us on our study later,” Grace offers.
But Trudy cringes. “Can’t say I’ll be much help in a lab, doc.”
“No, we’re collecting wet samples later,” Grace explains. “The rain tank will refill our recycled water, but I need to patch up the reserve tank with Norm while we’re out. Little Spellman here will take cuttings from the forest out back, and we could use a lookout just in case any unwanted visitors join us.”
“I didn’t know about this,” you say confusedly. “When did we decide this?”
“Just now, I decided,” replies Grace. “While Jake’s out doing his shit, we need to do ours. Hope you packed your raincoat, Spelly.”
Paying no attention at all to the string of groans that come from your direction, Jake looks out the window again and gives himself a few seconds to think.
If he manages to land a clean kill today with Neytiri, then he’ll be choosing his own ikran tomorrow. It is the single most important part of becoming an Omatikaya warrior, according to what he’s deduced from Neytiri’s repeated stress of the whole rite, and the pressing necessity of Jake perfecting his kills has been made his top priority by two women in his life; the woman showing him the ropes and the scientist beating his ass if he misses a video log.
But Jake has carved out a part of his mind and left it open in your name. More than anything else, he wants to stay here and watch you frantically running around in the rain cutting little leaves, talking shit about cells, looking awkwardly at where he fucked you last night in the very forest Grace is making you turn into a new study.
On top of all that, Jake wants to be there when Norm takes his first whiff of the seeds planted for Jake’s revenge — oh, god, how he wants to see the sinking look of realisation on Norm’s face when he catches Jake’s scent all over his sister…
“Why are you still here, marine?” cuts Grace’s annoyed voice as he glances to the side and sees that the scientist is glaring at him like he’s pa’li shit on her shoes. “Don’t you have animals to hunt?”
Jake sighs through his nose and glances back at you. He wants to do what you asked of him, to tell you he likes you so much it’s making him go insane, how last night was incredible, how he wished you had rolled over and seen him before he went to sleep. But he doesn’t. Now’s not the time, and Jake all of a sudden thinks that he’s behaving like a freak and he moves to roll himself towards the link unit at the far of the link chamber.
As he busies himself by flicking all the necessary switches and deliberately taking longer than normal to get everything ready, he keeps his ears trained on the conversation happening behind him.
“We’ll have to work overtime on the new samples,” Grace says as she slides yet another sample under the microscope. “Parker’s calling us in for a routine meeting and inspection of our data tomorrow. Jake’s doing his Omatikaya training, but Parker will be expecting results to justify the rest of us coming all the way out here.”
“What, all of us are going?” Norm has decided to reappear from the bunks, much to Jake’s dismay.
Grace hums — she probably nods too, knowing her, but Jake makes it a point not to look as though not to blow his cover of listening in. “If I have to go, you guys will suffer with me.”
Jake feels the cavern in his chest hollow out even more.
“So…Jake’s just staying here?” Norm asks, confused. “…Is that safe?”
“You worried about me, Norm?” Jake calls.
Norm probably frowns — yup: Jake turns and sees that sinister scowl on his face. “Somehow, you’d find a way, just like always. But we’re all the way up in the Hallelujah Mountains.”
“Funnily enough, I knew that, Norm,” says Grace.
“If something happens, Jake will need someone,” Norm continues, and for once, Jake actually agrees. If something were to happen with the link unit or the pressurising system, Jake wouldn’t know the first thing about fixing any of it — that is if he even got out of the unit without falling or dying.
But now that Norm has mentioned it, Jake’s body fills with dread. Is Norm suggesting that he stay behind with Jake? Then his thoughts spiral: did Norm already know? Was he planning a whole thing to confront Jake or get him back? Norm didn’t strike Jake as the type to outright murder somebody, but hey, he wouldn’t put it past him to try somehow.
Grace contemplates the idea for a moment and takes her time glancing over at Jake and then back at Norm. “Good point. You stay here, then.”
“Can I stay instead?” you interrupt, and Jake looks at you so quickly he fears he might get whiplash as a result.
Grace eyeballs you curiously, as does Norm.
“Why?” Norm questions in a rather curt tone.
“No offence, but I haven’t met Parker since our orientation in the Avatar Program when we were students, and pretty much all of our conclusive research is made up of your notes, anyway. I can stay here and manage the lab, continue my own research, and make sure Jake gets in and out of the unit alright once he’s done.” You glance at Grace for good measure, “I’m reliable. But when it comes to talking to the guys in charge, you might be better off with Norm.”
If Grace thinks what you’ve said is suspicious, then she doesn’t show it. After all, you’re right, and everybody in the lab knows it. Jake, for one, knows how reliable you can be around the lab.
He’s not biased, but he knows that you’re a far more trustworthy scientist than Norm is when it comes to checking the systems, keeping the lab clean and tidy, doing all of your chores and completing your logs, and in general, keeping the entire shack functioning as normal while everybody else is busy.
He also knows how shy you can get, particularly with your work. Not even a few hours ago, you had tried to downplay your interest in the Na’vi to justify Norm’s graduation into the Avatar Driver program, and he can’t think of a single time you’ve told somebody that their research isn’t as important as your own. In fact, Jake isn’t even one hundred percent sure what you’re interested in when you’re not aiding everybody else’s research.
More importantly than any of that, Jake knows that you staying behind in the shack while everybody else flies out for an overnight at Hell’s Gate is particularly advantageous. It spells the perfect setting for the next stage of his so-called ‘revenge’, although he’s beginning to believe that soon enough, Jake will be fucking you for more than the thrill of it pissing Norm off.
Jake blinks and finds you looking at him, as if trying to coax a word or two of support from his mouth. He throws you a simple smile and angles his head towards Grace.
“It’s a no-brainer who I’d rather be spending a night with,” he says. Then he immediately cringes on the inside — that came out horribly wrong, no matter how truthful it may have actually been.
But still, Grace doesn’t think twice about the otherwise nasty implications of his words. Instead, she shrugs and turns to the janky coffee machine that is tucked nearby to a selection of mason jars by the mini microwave.
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying you willingly want to spend a whole night in this remote shack with Jake?” Norm asks, looking at you as if you’ve grown a third head. “Alone?”
“What would be so bad about it?” you reply casually. “He’ll hardly be here, anyway. Besides, if he pisses me off, I’ll just kick him out of his chair and leave him somewhere.”
Jake laughs, “Rude? I thought you liked my wheelchair.”
“Whatever,” Grace announces, just before you get the chance to reply with something witty to make Jake laugh in return. “We’ll be back as soon as the day breaks. Chacón says she needs VFR to get through the mountains, so we’ll play it safe. As long as you can hold out until then, Spelly, then go ahead.”
The sound of the link unit whirring to life makes Jake jump slightly, and he reluctantly glances away to punch in the data on the screen while the rest of the lab busy themselves in their usual routine.
Jake can’t believe it. He could not have predicted a more perfect result.
Tomorrow, there’ll be nobody else besides you and him.
It is quite literally perfect news.
As Jake hears Norm begin his on-brand rant over how you should be cautious around an idiot like himself, he allows himself the simple pleasure of grinning wickedly to himself, feigning innocence as he very carefully looks at you again out the corner of his eye.
After a while of fighting off your brother, you eventually look back at Jake and smile, so radiantly and mischievously that he immediately knows that whatever he’s thinking, you’re thinking too.
He heaves himself up and lets Grace think she’s God incarnated by helping him nestle down in the unit, all while he savours the last few minutes he has letting his mind be swarmed with thoughts of tomorrow — thoughts of him with you wrapped in his arms, nobody around to watch, nothing in the world to keep him from claiming you as his own all over again.
Following Grace’s orders isn’t often a challenge for you — in fact, being given instructions on what to do has become a reliable part of your daily schedule, and it just so happened that you did a lot of what Grace asked without any fuss at all. But right now, you’re having a hard time understanding just why taking samples of a few wet leaves is in any way necessary.
Since earlier that morning, the rain has transformed into a torrential downpour; the raincoat covering your entire body is drenched through, the hood tightened so intensely around your face that it shadows the outline of your exo-pack comically. Still, you practically glare down at the pamtseowll taking lashes from the rain, its catty appearance looking pathetically sad as you snip a segment off and secure it in the sample bag, huffing as you go along.
Everybody in the laboratory has their own interests, their own research to conduct. Grace has been working on a dense study of forest fauna since you arrived on Pandora, and now Norm has decided to work on a branch of research concerning the fauna and its changes when in contact with rainfall.
So far, he’s accumulated a valuable cache of research, and yet, here you are, collecting his samples while he stands on his blue tip-toes and helps Grace fix the faulty water reserve tank.
You can’t even think of the last time anybody offered to help you out with your own research. In a way, the only helpful person has been Jake, and that’s only by a stretch. The variety of cuttings or entire uprooted plants that he brings you after his hours and hours spent on the ground and in the village have been the subjects of your research, but dying plants flattened and prodded in a lab only communicate so much at a time.
Being out here, in the open field, would be the most beneficial if it weren’t for Grace’s restrictive ‘field hours’.
With a frown, you pop open a small sample tube and carefully angle it underneath another pamtseowll, catching a generous amount of rainwater and firmly sealing it closed. You’ve snipped and sliced a dozen different plants, shadowed by Trudy and her chorus of equally unamused sighs, before Grace and Norm successfully patch up the tank and join you.
“Felinafolia ferrugenia,” says Grace as she stands over your shoulder. She looks annoyingly refreshed considering the onslaught of rain, dressed in a large raincoat of her own but with her legs on display, her shorts the only clothing she appreciates when in her avatar. “Cat ear. Another great sample, Spellman.”
You grunt in reply. Based on the way Grace busies herself with one of the starfishing pxiwll plants instead of replying, you predict she hasn’t heard your complaints, and so you stomach another sigh and crouch over another plant.
“How many cuttings do you want, Norm?” you ask, teeth chattering in the cold.
“As many as we can before all the bags fill up,” Grace replies instead. She jerks her head towards the deeper forest and suggests moving inwards. And honestly, you’d want to, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s currently prowling towards the same lay of forest that Jake took you to last night, and the nerves root you to the spot.
It’s the very last place you’d rather visit with your boss, your brother, and a friendly yet sometimes intimidating aviator pilot. Your eyes close in on the familiar jag of the rock, feeling your heartbeat tremble as Grace approaches it without a care in the world.
Trudy passes by you with a confused curve of her eyebrows, already stepping in Grace’s oversized footprints and making her way into the concealed cover of trees and branches, and it is only when Norm drops to a crouch beside you that you finally tear your eyes from the rock and look at him.
Norm’s eyebrows are low, a ripple deepening across his forehead as he stares at you, like one would a tricky puzzle in the newspaper. His eyes flicker up and down the raincoat analytically, his lip curling in distaste before he inhales, nostrils flaring, and bites out, “Why do you smell like that?”
Your heart is hammering so loudly that it makes your chest ache, and around the gigantic lump in your throat, you gape at Norm and manage to ask, “Like what?”
“Like… I don’t know, all weird,” he continues, looking perplexed and disturbed at the same time. “Like. Musky. Like… No. I don’t know, but it’s weird. I don’t even know what you smell like, but it’s not normal.”
Without having to put too much thought into it, you’re confident that you know exactly what and who you smell like. A certain oversized ex-marine who Norm just so happens to hate all of a sudden.
It shocks you how scared Norm’s assessment makes you feel. Of course, you knew that the Na’vi had an incredibly heightened sense of smell, and had that fact confirmed yesterday with Jake sniffing the damp spot between your legs, but you somehow didn’t expect Norm to be able to smell any difference on you.
This is exactly what Jake wanted to happen; you gauge Norm’s facial expressions for a long time, trying to figure out if he’s made any connections yet, but he continues to sniff at you in disgust, permanently confused by what the hell it could even be.
“Are you sure it’s not just the raincoat?” you ask lamely, taking a pointed look down at the waxy coat enveloping you. “It was just in one of the supply boxes, it probably smells really weird since it’s been in storage for a while.”
Norm inches closer and takes a massive inhale.
“I guess it could be the coat,” Norm decides slowly, watching you as you hover for a moment before stepping off to follow Grace and Trudy. All of a sudden, being over there is better than being here, being interrogated by Norm.
Still, he doesn’t get the hint and he says as he follows you, “But it’s just strange. It’s so strong.”
“If you keep going on about it, it’s gonna hurt my feelings,” you tell him, hoping that he might shut up and spare you the anxiety of him figuring it out. “You trying to say I stink?”
“Yeah,” Norm replies dumbly. “Because you do. You usually smell fine, I know what body wash you use because I steal it all the time.”
“Right,” you drawl, peering at him from the corner of your eye as you both near the others. Trudy tosses her head over her shoulder and startles at the sight of Norm, as if she forgot he was even there and slowly creeping up behind her.
For a moment, you wish you had the ability to forget about Norm, but even when he crouches next to Grace and assists in marvelling over a rather average-looking moss blanket, you can’t help but anxiously stare at both of them, as if waiting for something more to be said.
It’s not as if you regret any of last night. On the contrary, you think it might have altered your body chemistry and made you more desperate. While your first tumble with Jake hadn’t been in the way you expected, or even in the form of Jake you were most used to, there’s nothing you can say to make you convince yourself that it was a mistake. Since when did mistakes feel that good?
Your embarrassingly long crush on Jake has been dragged out until now, and quite frankly, the last thing you want to do is suppress the elation you feel about finally taking the next step with him; to finally hold his attention, to be someone he actually feels interested in.
To be “his woman”, to hear Jake say that you were one of the only things ever keeping him from throwing his life into being Na’vi felt like a dream last night, and even now, in his absence, all you can think about is how badly you want him back here, how badly you want him.
But not at the cost of total humiliation. If Norm were to turn around right now and accuse you of the truth, you genuinely believe you might die from embarrassment. It’s one thing sleeping with Jake Sully, but it’s another thing entirely to be found out for sleeping with Jake’s avatar.
Is it even safe?
Instead of helping Grace and Norm in their collection of samples, you fall deeper and deeper into your spiral of thoughts. You’re so deeply immersed in them that several minutes go by and Grace and Norm have moved a few feet closer to the rock, studying the moss that creeps up the jagged edges, moss you felt on your back last night. And yet, you still don’t startle out of your thoughts — at least not until a dark shadow falls over you, and Trudy jumps around with wide eyes before groaning with annoyance.
“How the hell did you get here so quietly?” Trudy snaps, and the distress in her voice makes you turn your head over your shoulder. When you see a strangely slender blue waist in front of your eyes, you jump too and look up to find Jake’s face hidden in a slight shadow.
When he looks away from Trudy and finds your eyes behind the glare on the exo-pack, his mouth widens into a giant smirk, and despite the shivering cold of the stormy weather, you feel your body flush with a sudden warmth.
God, sleeping on the fact of what you did with Jake did not make the yearning go away.
Jake shrugs. “At least I know my training’s paying off.”
At that, Grace acknowledges Jake standing behind you and turns to face him with her hands on her thighs. “Oh. Marine. Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?”
“I’m done for the day,” he announces, his grin widening, if it were even possible. You take the moment to soak up the sight of him in his Omatikaya attire — the rain sliding across his wide torso, looking a shade darker in the dim light, the very faint glimmer of his freckles creating a stitch work of light across his skin. When Grace asks why, he tells her, “I’m ready.”
Grace gasps — she sounds happy, and after your eyes linger for a fleeting second on the wet cloth hanging across Jake’s crotch, you turn to face her.
“Really?” she asks.
Jake nods. “My iknimaya is tomorrow morning.”
Grace laughs disbelievingly and rises to stand, her hands falling to her hips while Norm remains all but glued to the floor, his eyes glazed with envy as he glances at Jake.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Jake!” Grace laughs again. “Really. Well done.”
“Nice work, man!” Trudy adds, nodding her head at Jake. “You a tough warrior now, huh?”
You hear Jake snickering behind you, the noise making you shudder. Thankfully, it’s still raining, so you hope it looks like you’re cold rather than on edge about the avatar behind you.
“You walked all the way here to tell us that?” asks Grace, sounding genuinely curious as she turns back to Norm and quite literally yanks up a whole plant. “Why?”
“Nah. Neytiri wanted to show me the basic route for tomorrow morning,” Jake explains. You can hear him shuffling around behind you, but you’ve become rooted to the spot facing away from him. “Tsu’tey pretty much hates me. He’ll be gagging for the chance to abandon me before we even get to the rookery.”
Grace makes a noise of agreement, which launches her into a serious discussion of how Jake needs to respect Tsu’tey more in order to receive more respect in return. From behind you, Jake groans playfully, although lets Grace continue her presentation on why Tsu’tey is a good leader (not that Jake ever said he wasn’t), and you intensely watch Norm lean his arm on the wedge of rock you recognise from last night until you become aware of the fact that the rain has slowed — or at least above you, it has.
Craning your head up, you notice Jake’s hands hovering over your head, as if acting as some kind of personal umbrella. He’s still looking at Grace when you peer at his face, but instinctively, like he felt you looking, his eyes flicker downwards to yours and he smiles again, his eyes halving into curves.
Yep. The yearning has definitely persisted.
“Don’t stay too long, Jake, you’ll have to take yourself back down to the village before the storm picks up,” Grace says after her rant has stretched for at least five minutes on the value of Tsu’tey’s comradeship.
“Yeah. Though Neytiri says it’s almost passed,” Jake replies, adjusting his footing behind you, his hands unmoving.
“Is Neytiri here?” you decide to ask suddenly. Hey, you can’t help but feel curious about the woman who has been helping Jake get to where he currently is.
You somehow miss the confused scrunch of Jake’s eyebrows, as though he finds the question completely irrelevant.
“She’s…around,” he says. “On her ikran somewhere. Practically left me all by myself.”
“Well, I imagine she has better things to do,” says Grace, sparing you the humiliation of coming up with a reason for even bringing her up in the first place, other than to just be nosey. You picture Neytiri stalking the lot of you from a perch with her ikran, trying to figure out if the Sky People keeping Jake’s human body alive are worthy to be left alone in the beautiful Ayram alusìng.
The mention of Neytiri seems to set something off inside Grace, who was apparently looking for any excuse to talk about the village again. She turns around on her haunches and begins another lengthy discussion on the Omatikaya and their ikran, all while Norm scowls into his sample pouches and Trudy steps away from you all to glare at the unassuming grey sky.
You are uncomfortably aware of Jake’s figure still looming over you, his hands sheltering you from the spitting rain and his tail occasionally curling around his leg to jab into your waist playfully.
There’s nothing to fear with Jake, nothing to fear of his potential interest in other people, and you banish the thoughts before they take up permanent residence. You’re better than that. And besides, if Jake didn’t really want you, he wouldn’t be acting like a Na’vi umbrella just for your convenience, wouldn’t be having so much trouble stopping himself from grinning down at you every once in a while.
A gust of cool air pushes its way through the forest, and you shudder dramatically, hoping it might guilt Grace out of the trees and back into the labs. Instead, she snorts, tells you to suck it up, and snaps at Norm for manhandling a sample, all before you feel a warmth surge behind you and two large, blue arms securing around your body.
Before you can even process it, you’re between Jake’s thighs, the large and solid expanse of his torso flat against your back and his cheek against the wet waxy material of your hood. You peer around the side of your coat to find his face, almost jumping when his big golden eyes are staring back at you.
“Don’t catch a cold, Spelly,” Jake says, his taut muscles tightening around you. He smirks at the fleeting look you throw in the group’s direction and purses his lips in an effort not to laugh at how funny everything is. How Norm is leaning against the rock he fucked you on and has no idea. How beautifully hilarious it is to see.
“Famous last words,” you reply, teeth chattering.
“Then go inside, grumpy,” Grace huffs, waving her arm in a flamboyant gesture, “Sully, walk Spellman back before you head to the village, will you?”
Jake shrugs, your body moving with him as he does so. It feels strange to be wrapped up in his arms so openly, with no rush or thrill of being caught through a window or a sniff. Norm looks purple with rage as he glares daggers into Jake’s face, though Jake’s barely looking at Norm, not when his much more favourable sibling is so close and pretty in his face like this.
He very gracefully moves to a stand, his hands moving from your body with reluctance before he reaches out, fingers widening and curling as he grabs for your own. Shyly, you reach to take it, hearing Norm mutter something not-so-graceful under his breath and stepping in Jake’s shadow to follow as he makes his way with you back towards the lab.
The muddy ground squelches under Jake’s feet, but with the way he walks so carelessly, it’s as though he has already become acclimatised to the Na’vi ways. And, you have to admit, he sports the village clothing with class and style.
Jake’s beads clink together as he turns his head in an incline to see you.
“Tell me it was everything I hoped for,” he says suddenly, and as you spot the cocky little smirk on his mouth, you laugh and shake your head, already knowing what he’s asking about.
“Norm said I smelled weird. I tried my best not to be offended.”
Jake sniggers, “That man has no idea.” Looking pleased, Jake swings your intertwined hands and adds quickly, “And you just smell like me. I like it.”
“You would like it.”
“In the village, couples smell like each other all the time,” he says, a bit too casually, and you sideways glance at him. “Like, to lay claim.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about laying claims when the only other man I see on a daily basis is literally my brother,” you remind him.
“Yeah. But, still. The idea,” Jake shrugs. “Isn’t it nice?”
The both of you round the corner of the lab and disappear from sight of the scientists back in the forest, now totally concealed behind the front of the lab and the drab look of the short grass and mud. On the bright side, the rain is slowing considerably, which is probably the only reason why you’re not cringing when you have to look up at Jake just to see his face.
“You know Neytiri has zero interest in me, right?”
You refrain from groaning. “I know, Jake.”
“Okay, ‘cause maybe it wasn’t obvious, so I’m just saying—”
“Let’s not… We’re not gonna do that, okay?” you say, cringing at the fact you brought it up in the first place. “I get it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Jake,” you laugh, pausing. What can you even say?
He shifts slightly. “I told you that scientists are more my thing, and you know, what I meant by that was—”
“I know,” you groan, waving your hands desperately, “and I believe you. Don’t make this weird, Jake.”
Mercifully, he surrenders, holding up his hands to announce his resignation from the point. For a few more seconds, he stares at you, assesses every flinch or twitch of features on your face, and seems relieved when he finds nothing that indicates you’re upset with him.
Better than that, he completely sets aside the conversation; he smiles genuinely, as close to innocent as Jake can get, and then his eyes avert to the ground and he runs his tongue across the inside of his cheek.
Before the silence stretching between you can fester into anything else, you announce your leave with a heavy sigh and twist towards the doors.
“Get out of here, big guy,” you tell him, already punching in one of the codes to access the pressure chamber. “I’ll try and stay up to see you tonight.”
“Yeah right,” he teases, still in the same position you left him in. “My sleepy girl. Couldn’t manage it last night, I was gone like fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen precious minutes of sleep,” you say, watching Jake’s grin widen as the doors slide open and in you go. There’s no need for a goodbye; you’ll see him again later.
As soon as you’re inside of the lab again, you waste zero time in climbing out of the horribly drab coat and leaving it to dry in a cupboard that Grace hangs wet clothes in from time to time. The wax won’t run properly through the laundry machines, and so you leave it there, thankful that no rain seeped through to your clothes underneath, and shudder at the temperature change once back inside the strange comfort of the lab.
Dutifully, you place a bag of samples next to one of the microscopes, and you’re about to fish out a towel to head straight for the showers when you catch a glimpse of something blue outside the window — Jake, bending over to peer into the lab, tapping his finger on the glass to get your attention.
You look at him questioningly. Then, you watch in disbelief and amusement as Jake grins, puts his fisted hands down by his abdomen and then lifts them up to his shoulders. It takes a moment of confusion before it clicks — this motherfucker is asking you to lift up your shirt.
Jake nods, no doubt laughing to himself outside the lab as you gape at him. Perhaps you misunderstood him, but the look of eager anticipation and smugness on Jake’s face tells you otherwise.
You look at the window to the right of you, paranoid that any of the three people you live with happen to be approaching the lab. The fear of someone like your brother or your boss seeing you with your tits out for the enjoyment of a massive flirt like Jake Sully blurs into thrill, and just to see him grin like he did last night, you laugh to yourself and fist the bottom of your shirt, rolling it up and over your breasts until they fall out on display.
You look at Jake expectantly. He peers closer, his fangs displayed as he smiles so wide you think his face might split into two, and after a long, drawn-out moment of ogling them, Jake finds your eyes and nods appreciatively, raising one thumb for good measure.
Your shirt is back down over your breasts by the time Jake is standing upright and stalking towards the edge of the cliffs, a speed in his step. Waiting until he’s completely out of view, you watch him disappear past the drop and spin back to stare at nothing in particular, until a ripple of laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably, your face unbelievably hot.
The possibility of the shower running cold all of a sudden sounds kind of appealing.
True to his word, Jake makes it back to the labs just after you’ve eaten, and is subject to Grace’s maternal fussing as she thrusts a food pouch into his lap and watches him until the contents have been devoured. Jake would need all of his energy for tomorrow — the first crucial steps were to be well-fed and well-rested.
“What’ll happen once you’re one of the People?” you ask Jake, comfortably nestled on one of the deck chairs that Grace found in storage that has been set up in the corner of the lab designated for eating and talking.
From spending a few months with Grace, everybody has become neutralised to her obsessive habit of separating her needs in her living space — somewhere to eat and talk, somewhere to work; somewhere to link up, somewhere to bathe, somewhere to sleep.
Jake shrugs with a smile. “I guess that’ll be it. I’ll have my ikran, they’ll throw me a little party, I’ll have suitors dancing at my feet…”
You smirk, eyebrows raised playfully. “Mighty bachelor.”
“But that’s not important, is it, Jake?” Grace interrupts pointedly.
“No,” he replies in genuine agreement. “The first course of action will, of course, be making Grace the boss. There’ll be a school in the village by next week.”
“Har, har,” replies Grace sarcastically. She takes a swig of her beer and smiles. “I just meant that relations are important. If we can do anything to establish friendly alliances with the People, it saves a whole lot of bloodshed and pain.”
“I hear you,” Jake assures her. “I am excited for my party, though.”
“Gotta pass first,” Norm says, balancing a pencil on his upper lip. “Easier said than done.”
“Hey, I just thought of my first plan of action. How about you do everything I’ve just done Norm? I’d love to see you try,” Jake says.
Now that he’s already bedded you and is fairly certain of the longing twist in his stomach being there as a physical reminder of his feelings for you, Jake’s not really interested in letting Norm treat him like a loser anymore.
Norm just throws a middle finger in Jake’s direction. Before Norm’s usual dark and depressing energy pollutes the good vibes in the room, you quickly jump back into the conversation.
“I wanna go to your party,” you say.
“Grace can come,” Jake replies sympathetically, his lips vanishing into a downturned frown. “If you have time and find a link unit in the Gate, then you’re welcome, Neytiri said so.”
“What about me? While you two are out getting drunk, I’ll be here, what, on my own?”
“Sorry, Spelly,” Jake frowns. “Hey, how about we paint you blue and try and sneak you in? Might pass as a Na’vi child if you’re lucky.”
“Charming…”
You tune out of Grace’s promises to make it to Jake’s party — if one even happens in the first place — and focus your attention on Jake.
You’ve only been in close proximity with Jake’s avatar for less than two days, but already, you’re making out the shape of his Na’vi features in his real ones. When he laughs, his head tilts up in the same way it did last night; his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he tries to reign the laughter in, the crease near his eyes as he purses his lips, the angle of his head when he finds your eyes locked on him once he does a scan of the people in the lab.
All it took was one night with his avatar to completely amplify the feelings you have for him. And all it took was one night in his avatar to breathe his own feelings into reality.
By the time Jake has made his way to the bathroom after pulling the short straw and being the last one in there, you’re already cocooned in bed, staring up at the fuzzy darkness intensified by Trudy’s top bunk.
With Trudy cleaning her pistols and Grace and Norm making sure all of their notes are in order for the early flight out to Hell’s Gate tomorrow, you focus your attention on the sounds of Jake in the small bathroom — the sounds of him brushing his teeth and cursing when he knocks something off a shelf, the little squeak of his wheels as he does his best to move around.
Your heart is hammering twice its usual pace when the light vanishes and his wheels grow louder as they amble towards the bunks.
Cracking open one eye, you just about make him out in the faint light cast by your overhead lamp. He rolls into view, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, although his features even out and he relaxes once he confirms that your eyes are, in fact, still open.
“Got me worried for a sec,” he says quietly. Everyone is still up, and he can’t risk giving them yet another reason to cockblock him.
“Just in time. I was dozing off,” you reply, nose wrinkling as you laugh at the roll of his eyes.
Jake adjusts himself, leaning down on his elbows as they mould into the thin mattress and cushion by your side. You shuffle, shifting your head to look at him as his eyes flicker across your face.
He supports his face with his hand pressed into his cheek, the other hand lifting to ghost across your face, lightly trailing over your hairline. There is a slight vacancy in his eyes, like his mind is full of thoughts that are taking his attention elsewhere, and for a moment, you wonder what to even say until his eyes snap back down to yours and his hand on his cheek moves.
His finger and thumb shift to squish your cheeks together, bringing your mouth into a pucker as he leans his head down and plants a kiss on your lips.
Jake breaks away after a moment, barely creating a distance between you before he kisses you again, and again. His hand releases your cheeks and with the other, he gently strokes the top of your head, all so softly it’s as though making any sudden movements might cause you to jump away.
There’s a faint taste of toothpaste on your mouth when Jake pulls away, your eyes still closed for a second longer than his as he maps your expression, not even trying to hide his pleased smile when they do open to the sight of his face still hanging over yours.
Jake steals another quick kiss on your chin, heaving himself back up with a forced and slightly dramatic groan.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he tells you quietly, his voice suddenly hoarse as though kissing you has winded him. His chest is falling a bit more unevenly than before — has kissing you left Jake with the same fluttery feeling as it has with you?
You nod, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip to prevent the blinding smile from shining through. You’ve gotta leave him with a little bit of yearning — he can’t have it too easy.
“Really hope you don’t die in the morning,” you reply.
He laughs unexpectedly. “You know what? Me too.”
The lab is silent.
After so many weeks of being surrounded by the noise of other people, it is jarring to be alone. The metal lab groans in the wind, the frosty glass rattling as it gusts past the container you now call home. Outside, the front of the cliffside the shack is perched upon is glowing vibrantly, pulsing with energy, but unlike a few days ago, you have no desire to head outside, all too content in the toasty warmth you’ve curated in the lab.
You try not to feel too alone — in the link chamber, Jake is in deep like a tick, probably partying with the clan. With no distress calls from Grace and no disturbances from Jake’s most likely agonising session in the unit, you assume that all went well with Jake’s iknimaya. He must be buzzing, light and dizzy with whatever native alcohol he’s been rewarded with.
Meanwhile, here you are, waiting for one of your watercolour paintings to dry. A quiet night in the lab constitutes a well-earned night off, although you could consider your relaxing drawings of yesterday’s sample research if you really needed to.
With your knee up by your chest, you swirl the lab chair in a lazy circle whilst you wait, listening to the silence grow tinny as it stretches on. It occurs to you that you actually don’t enjoy being alone the way you used to. You’ve grown so accustomed to noise that without it, the world feels hopelessly lonely. You find with shock and horror that you even miss Norm complaining about everything, followed by some fancy Grace quip or Trudy laugh.
You don’t know how much longer Jake may be in there for. A couple more minutes? Hours? The longer you stare in the direction of the link chamber, the more anxious you feel.
So, maybe being all alone in the Hallelujah Mountains wasn’t what you dreamed it was going to be, except for the opportunity it gave you to colour a few pictures of stems and flower buds.
Sighing, you dab your little finger into one of the dry petal paintings and swirl the paintbrush in the water again, deciding to start on colouring in some of the bioluminescence outside into a spare square of space. In no way, shape or form are you an artist, but the painting calms you, and welcomingly takes your mind off the fact that you’ve been alone in this lab pretty much since you woke up this morning.
The paintbrush flicks over where you’re trying to imagine a tawtsngal from memory to spruce up the otherwise dull-looking painting of the view in front of you, and you’re just about to dip the paintbrush into the water to dilute the colour when you hear a rumble outside the shack.
Never a good sign.
You still, listening: the shack rattles twice, the table shaking, and for a moment you consider the possibility of there being a landslide nearby. With wide eyes, you jump up off your chair and rush to the window, peering out into the vibrant dark to check for any fallen rocks, but you see nothing besides grass and plants, and an even darker outline of jagged wings landing where Trudy normally lands her ship.
The ikran manifests into shape, a map of twinkling white freckles settling down in the short grass and screeching out in the night. You try to manage your breathing as you take in its sheer size; it raises up and screeches again, digging the speared claws under its spread of wing into the soft dirt beneath it and it bows down.
For a moment, it does not register to you that someone is climbing down off their back until you see their starry shape jogging towards the window — your eyes are still glued to the proud ikran showing off in the night, settling down in one of the low yet fluffed out trees near the fyìpmaut tree Grace has become infatuated with.
When your eyes finally snap over to the approaching Na’vi, you let out an embarrassingly loud sigh of relief when you realise it’s Jake, followed by a strangled noise of shock when you realise, yet again, that it’s Jake. Avatar Jake. Big, blue and beautiful Jake, who is currently punching in a string of numbers into the door and letting himself inside the lab.
Your hands are trembling like crazy when the air pressurises around him, and you almost don’t even know what to do when the inside door unlocks and swings open, and in he comes. Jake glances around the lab in a crouch, looking somewhat uncomfortable as if he forgot just how large he was, and he grins when he finds you.
“Hey, my hì’i syulang,” he calls, his hands reaching in a fumble under the emergency exo-packs to fetch one of the AAS-RO2s secured in a rack underneath. They were rarely used unless Grace or Norm needed to for some reason bring their avatars inside for something and were too lazy to wake up and do it in their human bodies, and for some reason, seeing Jake fiddle with one and actually get it to work despite having never touched one before feels absurd to you.
You hum with interest once he’s successfully geared up, smiling when he looks at you for approval.
“Hey, yourself. You got good with Na’vi.”
“Practise makes perfect,” he shrugs, though looks too cocky for his own good now that you’ve complimented him on it.
“I’m not tiny, by the way. You’re just huge.”
“Yep,” Jake grins, stepping towards you with two equally huge strides. His eyes catch sight of the drawings on top of the table and he drops to a comfortable crouch by your side, his brows high as he asks, “Aw, you colouring?”
You scoff quietly. “It’s research. Botanical, legitimate research.”
His hands skim through the pages with interest and he hums. “Looks fun.” When he looks up, it’s outside of the window, and you follow his gaze back to the resting ikran outside. “Wanna draw him? He’s real cute.”
“I see you survived your iknimaya in one piece, mighty warrior,” you reply, feeling the muscles of his arms with a teasing smile, and Jake looks at you from the side and his gaze softens. “How was your party, then?”
“Good,” he nods thoughtfully, gaze averting as he looks one more time at his ikran before dedicating his attention solely on you. After all, you are what he came here for in the first place, if not to show off to then just to see. His eyes find yours again and he brushes one of his hands up over your forehead again, thumbing your hairline, gaze so soft and warm it could melt butter.
“Grace came,” he continues, “the kids got her dancing by the fire. I tried some rank liquor, had to do my own ceremonial dance with about ten different people.” Jake’s smile widens affectionately, “Neytiri showed me the Tree of Voices. Utraya Mokri, the People’s direct link to Eywa.” You can’t help but smile with him as he tells you all of this. His happiness is infectious. “Eywa is…incredible. Grace needs to try it, she’d lose her mind.”
You laugh at that. “That could be your first course of action, Tsyeyk Suli.”
Jake’s entire face reshapes with adoration, so much so that he physically cannot stop himself as he pulls your head forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The action takes you by surprise — you’ve barely begun processing the kiss Jake left you with last night, let alone accepted the possibility of another one being given by the body that lay you over a rock once.
He pulls away, and when he does, you notice the lurching gesture in his chest, as though he's struggling to breathe, and you pointedly bring up the respirator around his neck and laugh.
“Damn. I took all your breath away. Chug some dioxide.”
Jake rolls his eyes but takes a sip of the CO2, eventually falling back into place. Now reminded of the tedious ritual he’s made himself a slave to by coming in here in his new favourite form, Jake quickly thinks back to whatever it was he was talking about and continues.
“Neytiri also told me that I have now earned my place in the village,” Jake begins again, his voice a little bit dreamy. More than anything, you wish you could have been there to be a part of the vision playing in Jake’s mind, to visualise his stories of the village and the forest and his place in all of it.
“I may live in the village, so to speak, I can carve my own bow from the wood of Hometree.” When his eyes search your face hesitantly, he adds very slowly, “and I may also take a woman.”
“Oh,” you say, quickly scanning his own expression for anything out of the ordinary. When his eyes round in shape and his ears flatten against his head, the corners of his mouth twitching, you raise your eyebrows and ask, “and how do you feel about that?”
“Well, I told Neytiri that I had already chosen someone,” Jake tells you.
“Did you?”
He nods with a hum, trying not to look so amused, though failing horribly at it. “And so Neytiri told me that I should go and seek out my woman to tell her that I have made my decision. She was a little eager to get rid of me, actually.”
“And…that’s why you’re here?” you ask, almost regretting it when Jake opts for staring at you for a second too long, in a silence too concerning. Then, he smirks, brows high, eyes narrowed, like you asking is the silliest thing in the entire world.
“Obviously, Spellman.” Jake laughs as you do, bemused, “Jesus. For such an intelligent woman, you’re so stupid sometimes.”
“Takes stupid to know stupid,” you reply.
“Exactly,” he croons, face so close to you that he’s able to push his face forward to kiss your lips without much effort at all.
It’s not as though you forgot what being around Jake’s avatar felt like; it’s only been a few days since you last encountered him, and yet it feels like the first, your stomach rolling over itself like a tsunami as Jake’s lips find your own in perfect harmony.
Admittedly, you had expected your next tumble with Jake to be in his human body, but now that he’s here, now that he’s already flown himself out here to find you, you can’t think of any reasons to turn him away.
Last time, any possibility of kissing Jake had been next to impossible thanks to the exo-pack, but now, with nothing in the way, Jake relishes in the feeling of your lips against his own, his large hand cradling the side of your face.
Of course, he’s kissed you before, yesterday at a strangle angle to accommodate his unfortunate wheelchair. Now, there’s nothing to hinder his progress, nothing to prevent his plans — it’s just you and him, alone in the lab, exactly how he wanted it to be.
It’s as though the gravity in the room is being sucked out when Jake pulls away; you feel like you’re floating merrily off the chair, leaning forward as though to find him in the space he’s created, and Jake laughs from his throat and sweeps his gaze down your body.
No longer are you wearing your favoured shorts or tank top. To his delight, you’re in a long t-shirt that hangs around your knees, presumably only panties underneath, and his mouth twitches with intrigue.
“Cute outfit,” Jake says appreciatively, using his finger to lift up the bottom of the shirt and peering at your thighs, seeking out the bite he left you with the night before. When he finds the very faint outline, he laughs boyishly and glances back at you, “even cuter tattoo, honey.”
You laugh, and then Jake runs his finger across the nearly gone indent and hitches your shirt higher up over his wrist, the sight of your baby blue panties peeking into view as his grin widens.
“Why are you grinning so hard?”
Jake shrugs; now both of his hands are at your hips, shirt pulled up at the front, his golden gaze trained on your crotch.
“Just happy,” he says simply. Though he appears perfectly content zoning out on the sloping curve of your crotch, Jake looks up and says, “Did you know I was coming?”
“Well, I expected the real Jake to be here by now,” you confess, thinking about Jake lying in the link unit controlling his avatar with his hands on your hips.
Jake’s brows furrow, his smile flattening to an amused line. “I’m real.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Forget about him.”
“I like him.”
“And that makes me really happy, believe me, but this is real for me. This right here, you and me,” Jake says, his voice a little lighter than it was before, which is the only real way you can tell that he’s not joking.
This is serious for Jake. It’s not just part of a ploy to piss off Norm. Jake has become undone with his feelings, in a way that is so unbecoming of him that it’s actually embarrassing; now that he’s practically on his knees in front of you telling you it’s real, telling you that he’s pretty much told Neytiri and by extension the whole village that you’re his and he is yours, you know without a shadow of doubt in your heart that he is being sincere.
“Believe me, honey. It brings me no greater joy than knowing that you’ve been interested in me since we first met—”
“Well. If we’re being technical, then it was just before you got chased by the than—”
Jake simply frowns. “Hey. I’m not fucking around here, Spellman. I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”
“…Sorry. Go on.”
“…If I knew in my heart that I could give you what I want you to have from my wheelchair, I so would, but everything is easier like this. I can move. I can do whatever you want. I can be whatever you want. And you took all of me so well. Didn’t even struggle. You’re a perfect woman.”
“I love that you think that, but, you know, you're already everything I want from that wheelchair, Jake,” you tell him, and his ears pin back in surprise and his entire expression falls; he doesn’t look upset, however. Rather, he looks in awe. “You don’t have to walk or fuck me on a rock to give me everything you think I want. I just want you. Everything else is a huge, incredibly pleasant bonus.”
You reach out for his face and rest your hand over his cheek, feeling his skin on your own. He feels warm to the touch.
“You know how I feel,” you continue quietly, “and I like every second with you. I just wanted you to know for sure that even though you met my needs in your avatar, you never needed to.” Jake has barely moved an inch since you started talking, but when you add, “Even though I really like you like this,” Jake’s face twitches, like he’s trying his best to hold himself together. “A lot, actually.”
The splitting smile that stretches on Jake’s face fills your chest with a giddy type of glee.
Then, Jake leans forward, his forehead tilted against yours. Being so close to his face is unreal — you don’t know what to look at first: the lines of tanhì over his skin, the smooth look of it, the slight pink of his snout, the tug on the inside of his lip...
“You’re mine, Spellman,” Jake murmurs.
“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, matching his own look of delight and feeling a fluttering rush through your chest when Jake secures his hands in a cradle around your face, bringing your lips back together with a sudden fierceness that, this time, is not met with surprise.
Unlike before, unlike the short kiss that had felt stolen between you, you’re surprised by Jake’s eagerness. His mouth presses against yours with a gentle firmness, as though not to hurt you but at the same time, enough to convey just how badly he’s wanted this. His mouth is warm against yours, the glossy sheen of saliva over his bottom lip slippery and inviting as his kisses become more open-mouthed.
Jake kisses you for so long you wonder how he can even breathe — even for you, it feels breathless. When he pulls away, you pinpoint the slight spasm in his chest, the tight veins in his neck as he fights his impulses. With a small laugh, you push the mask around his neck up to his lips and force him to capture his breath, occupying your lips elsewhere in the meantime.
Trailing your mouth across his cheek and jaw, it’s as though Jake is gulping down as much CO2 as he can manage to keep stored inside of him to go a little longer. Eventually, his chest rises and falls evenly while you gently smooch the expanse of skin under his jaw, catching the soft scent of whatever powders and paints he may have been decorated with earlier in the night.
The mask falls back down past his collar and he shifts; Jake’s hand pulls at your face, his thumb on one cheek and fingers on the other as he guides your mouth back to his, wasting no time in getting back to whatever he was doing before his lungs so rudely interrupted him.
If he had to die losing breath while kissing you, then it would be a suitable way for him to go.
“Okay,” he breathes, pulling away for a brief second before planting a wet kiss back on the pucker of your lips. You can taste the honey from the alcohol he’s been drinking all night in your mouth. “Up and out.”
With that, Jake lifts you up by your waist and ungraciously tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Then, with his back hunched slightly, he moves with familiarity through the metal corridors of the lab, navigating his way to the bunks.
Even like this, you feel so high off the ground, and you squeal with surprise and fist at nothing behind his back. He’d never let you fall, not that the landing would damage you in any physical way except for your pride, but still, you stare at the moving metal beneath his feet in a blur, half excited and half full of nerves.
The floor plan opens up to the bunk chamber, the familiar worn woven rug that Grace had been given from the villagers and had put on the floor appearing in view. You know confidently that there will be as little room back here as there was in the workspace at the front; the bunks are bolted to the wall but barely big enough for human bodies, let alone avatars, but Jake already has a solution.
He sets you down, his hands already working to pull your shirt up and over the top of your head. Not that he has to work very hard at all — you’re already helping him undress you, pulling the shirt up over your head, marvelling at the wide-eyed look of excitement on Jake’s face.
“Missed these,” he says, carelessly tossing your shirt to the bunks off at the side. He wastes no time in moving closer to you, his mouth attaching itself to the curve of your breasts, his tail flicking happily at your noisy approval.
With Jake mouthing around your nipple, the taunting graze of his teeth making you shudder, you let your body float into an astral plane of goodness and close your eyes, your head lulling to the side.
His eyes flicker up, greedily memorising every lift and twitch on your face until he catches sight of your hands sliding down your sides from his arms, fingers inching towards your little blue panties. He grins, tongue flat against your nipple, and after pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of where he’s been sucking, Jake breaks away and harmlessly slaps his hands over yours, holding them in place as you hook your fingers under the panty fabric.
“It’s like you’re doing this to me on purpose,” he groans, lips pressing kisses all across and down your body as his mouth makes its way to the smooth skin of your tummy. Jake rubs his thumbs in circles on your lower stomach, eyes finding yours.
“Doing what?”
“Being so fucking sexy,” mutters Jake, his tongue licking like a lion against your naval. The feeling makes you squirm and laugh slightly, your hands flying up from the clasp of his hands to the sides of his head.
There had been the expectation that perhaps human Jake would roll himself towards you once he got back, excited and turned on by your uncharacteristic lack of clothing. Instead, it had been avatar Jake who found you first, but it’s not as though your efforts have exactly gone to waste. If anything, they are met with the highest amount of appreciation.
Jake tugs the top of your panties with his teeth, moving them off your skin and down until he can see the sloping curve of your pubis, until he can smell the lust between your folds. Stopping him from stripping you bare is the last thing you want, but still, you look down at him playfully.
“Do you really need to take all my clothes off, Sully?” you ask, feeling his teeth graze on your skin as he unwillingly releases your panties from his mouth.
“Yes,” he replies, like it was obvious. Why would he want you to stand there in your panties all night when there were more fun things to do?
“Well, what about you?” Your hands slowly trail down from his face to his broad shoulders, fingers ghosting across the darker lines etched into his skin. Jake shudders slightly, his ears pricked tall, and they twitch in amusement when you point out the same thing he did when he bent you down over the rock.
“One of us is halfway there, and it’s not you.”
Between his legs, same as always, hangs his tewng, perfectly and teasingly in place of the large growth hiding beneath, and your eyes glance at them pointedly. Your gaze lingers there until Jake takes the hint, his smile turning lop-sided as he sniggers and reluctantly pulls away from you.
“As you wish,” he croons, his hands swiftly shifting to the flimsy little string that he so courageously entrusts to hold his tewng together. Full of anticipation, you roll back on the heels of your feet as the knot undoes behind his back, and the strings cascade down as the fabric loosens and pools to the floor in a puddle.
Jake's cheeks are aching with how much he’s smiling. Any cool composure he wanted to pretend he had is betrayed by the smile that has taken up permanent residence on his face, the enthusiastic swish of his tail beating against his back and the floor behind him.
With your eyes still trained on the stiff arousal between Jake’s legs, you bite your bottom lip in an effort to restrain yourself and smooth your hands over the weaved sheath fastened over his chest.
“Miss me?” Jake asks, eyes pinned to yours as you peel back the sheath and gently set his blade and armour to the side. Now, the only things on Jake’s body are your hands and the bands around his arms, tightly outlining both his muscles and pudges of blue skin.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
“I know you did,” he continues anyway, pressing a swift kiss to your stomach and hooking his fingers back through your panties. He appreciates the blue more than he’d care to admit — you probably didn’t do it on purpose, picking blue when it's the very colour of his existence, but it’s a nice touch despite that. “Can smell you.”
Jake twists the fabric around his finger like a ringlet and drags the panties down your legs, and once they’re bunched down by your ankles, he takes a deep inhale and secures his gaze between your legs, his chest rising and falling.
His hands instantly shift to your thighs, holding them as he gently, yet forcefully, widens your feet apart. Your pussy parts with the movement, the wet smell filling Jake’s nose like a drug. Behind him, his tail thumps against one of the stack of black storage boxes, and he groans with pleasure.
“Fucking perfect,” he says, a thumb moving to swipe up the partition of your pussy. The familiar feeling of it swiping makes you tense up, hands tightening around Jake’s shoulders. “My perfect girl.”
With another kiss planted against your naval, Jake pulls you closer to him, mumbling under his breath and against your skin a string of words you can barely hear.
He saves himself the unflattering carpet burn from shimmying across Grace’s rug and picks himself up, one hand on the floor and his other arm and hand keeping you flush against him while he adjusts himself on the ground.
Once he’s lying flat on the floor on his back, he grins up at you and guides you over him, gaze flashing to the approaching pussy he wants nothing more than to shove his face into.
“Come’ere,” he says quietly, tapping a finger against his chin while trying to bring you closer with his other hand. It would be very easy for Jake to just pull you forward — you’re not a weak human being, but you still have nothing on his Na’vi strength, and you know this.
You slowly step towards him, your feet on either side of his body, a warm flush engulfing you as you stare down in amazement at the eagerness of Jake’s expression, the giddy movements of his body. He can barely stay still.
“You…want me to sit on your face?”
“Clearly.”
Though you’re already straddling him, hands trembling, you ask, “What if you suffocate and die?”
At that, Jake laughs, sliding his hands up the length of your legs and pushing down slightly, until your knees buckle and you’re all but hovering over his lips, feeling the chuckles of laughter brush against your bare skin.
“It’s the only way I’d wanna go,” he tells you. “A true warrior’s death.”
You scoff, anxiously positioning above him. “How would I explain that to Grace?”
“With pride, hopefully,” and then he helps bring you down until you're comfortably positioned over his mouth, his tongue flat against you, your own mouth suddenly falling into a circular shape of pleasure.
“Oh!” you gasp. Although Jake has been between your legs before, it hadn’t felt like this. The refined, little, rough ridges of Jake’s tongue brush against you; his tongue feels like a cats in texture, prone and wet as you slowly grind across it, Jake’s hands back around your body though he barely even moves you.
Almost as soon as you take a seat on his tongue, Jake groans again, the satisfied sound grumbling from his throat and against your cunt. In all of his attempts to relive the memory of being between your legs, Jake forgot how good you tasted.
Around your waist, his hands tighten before adjusting themselves to help move you against his mouth, his tongue curling up once you’re coated in your own juice and his saliva.
There is a slight ringing in your ears that you’re thankful for, but the sound of Jake against your pussy is no doubt erotic, making Jake’s body twitch and his cock harden uncomfortably up against his stomach.
You’re cautious with putting all of your weight on Jake’s head, still lifting up instinctively off his mouth as he runs his tongue across your pussy, prodding the top against your hole and gorging himself on your taste.
The feeling of his mouth so firm against you is intense compared to the other night, where Jake had all but pinned you down with his arm and had his way. He seems to grow fed up with your caution and his hands tighten around you, bringing you down to rest your weight entirely on his face. He groans, arms and hands locked in place, his ears smushed by your knees.
“Fuck,” he grumbles, his baritone voice vibrating against you. You moan at that, your hands coming to fist at the pretty beads hanging down by his face. If the tug hurts, he doesn’t show it; Jake only moves you harder against his mouth, his eyes tightly closed in pleasure until they all of a sudden burst open, his golden irises boring up into your face as you stare back.
You watch his eyes flickering from side to side, memorising every pull and tug against your features as you grind yourself on his mouth. His tongue is hot against you, his hands curling around your thighs possessively to hold you in place.
Now that the feeling of him plush against your pussy is more familiar, you chase his tongue, moving against him until he’s prodding exactly where you need him the most.
Jake’s mouth shifts, his tongue flicking against your clit while his hand slides from your thigh to the gap between your legs. One of his fingers stirs up the slicky wetness residing between your folds before slowly pushing up, slipping past the clenching resistance of your hole. Without meaning to, you smack your hips down on Jake’s face, feeling his finger sink up to the knuckle inside of you as a low grunt sounds from his throat.
You’re somewhat relieved that Jake is in his avatar and can withstand the full weight of your body throttling him, but he almost seems to relish in the feeling, a second finger wiggling its way past your folds and up your snatch with the other. The thick widening of his fingers makes you gasp, toes curling, and one of your hands releases his hair and grips at the stack of boxes behind Jake’s head.
“Mmf—fuck, Jake,” you rasp, voice broken and high and whiney. A shaky exhale catches in your throat as his fingers fuck inside of you, and your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they rise and fall over his hand like his fingers were his cock — you’re bouncing slowly on them while he smirks to himself, tongue flicking over your swollen clit, mouth and chin smothered in saliva and juice.
“You likin’ that, honey?” he asks, planting a sloppy kiss on your thighs as he curls his fingers inside of you. “Feel good?”
“Uh huh,” you whine. At this point, you cannot bring yourself to look at him and all of his smugness. You feel his smile widen against your thigh as he nips at the skin, licking a stripe before turning his mouth back to your pussy.
“God… Jake, oh my—” You don’t finish that sentence, don’t even get the chance to.
It is embarrassing how close to an orgasm you feel. Jake’s barely begun, barely spent any time at all between your thighs and yet you can feel your body seizing, a small ball of warmth expanding inside of you. Jake’s eyes are still glued to you and the arched view of your body over his face, and you can practically feel his gaze burning into you, willing you to look back at him.
“You gonna cum up there, baby girl?” mumbles Jake, his voice muffled by your pussy. If it weren’t for the vibrations his voice sends up your pussy making you aware of his question, you might have missed it over the sound of your moaning and whimpering.
His fingers prod at the spongey insides of your pussy, one prod in particular making your hips buck furiously across his mouth.
Jake makes a noise of happy surprise, and like the smug asshole he is, he repeats the action, fucking his finger into the spot that makes you wriggle on top of him. The unravelling warmth inside of you is spreading; you can barely feel your toes, your thighs shaking around him.
“Jesus, Spelly,” he chuckles, his erection so hard and uncomfortable by his belly button that he grumbles to himself. That needs to be attended to immediately, if you weren’t so stubborn as to drag out the orgasm you so obviously want to have.
Jake moves his fingers faster inside of you, the other hand that’s around your thigh snaking to your hips to sink you down harder against him. You feel his knuckles at your entrance, his tongue pausing lazily at your clit.
“I—” you gasp, voice catching with surprise. Then, to his amazement, you frantically look down at him with a wide-eyed look of desperation. “Can I—?”
“Yep,” he grunts, greedily holding you firmly against his mouth as your hips rut like an animal. After a humiliatingly small amount of time, you feel your entire body tense with a blistering heat, and when you cum onto Jake’s tongue, it is the sweetest relief.
The burst of sweet white fluid that drips into Jake’s mouth is taken with desperation. Jake’s tongue coaxes it all out of you, his voiced approval rumbling into your pussy as he drinks it up. Meanwhile, your head is positively spinning, your vision white and starry and limbs numbed. You can barely catch your breath, and you have no idea how Jake is still alive down there, the mask around his neck virtually forgotten.
When Jake has finally milked all that he can from your cunt, he gently pushes you up and off his mouth, your whole lower body trembling like a rabid dog as he shifts you down onto his chest. Your cunt is fluttering with the absence of his tongue and fingers, the heartbeat between your legs pulsing intensely as you stare down at Jake’s face.
You’ve never seen a man more content with a mouthful of your cum before. A sheen of white coats his tongue as he laughs breathlessly, his pupils wide. Then, as though he’s only just remembered that he needs to breathe, Jake fumbles for his mask and pulls it up over his face, gulping down the CO2 whilst simultaneously trying to compose himself.
“My god,” he splutters, his chest rumbling beneath you as he laughs again. You feel sticky all over. “I love this pussy, Spellman.”
The compliment tears a laugh from your throat. “Gee, thanks.”
Laughter fills the space between you for a moment, but when you look at Jake he’s looking up at the ceiling, his mouth parted and his breaths heavy, the mask still in his hand by his chin. Now that he’s gone quiet in an effort to catch his breath, you come to the abrupt realisation that you’re in the lab, in the bunk chamber, sitting naked on Jake’s chest after cumming in his mouth.
It feels hilarious all of a sudden, though you don’t voice the amused vision in your mind. Jake seems content doing whatever he’s doing, a dazed look on his face, and for a moment, you sit there until your thighs clench and the sticky cum between your thighs begins to dry, and then you slowly heave yourself up off him.
Lifting his head up off the floor, Jake startles and looks at you in confusion. “What’re you doing?”
“Getting up,” you wince as you move, but Jake’s frown deepens. He lets the mask fall by the side of his neck, his hands speedily rushing to your waist to lock you in place.
“What? No, no, no, no, we’re not done yet,” Jake blurts, his brows high and eyes wide.
“More?” you ask, surprised.
“Obviously,” he splutters, bemused. “Don’t be so selfish, I’ve been missing you like crazy out there.”
You fall down the length of his body as Jake sits up, your pussy brushing past the hard tip of his cock. You gnaw at your lip bashfully — okay, maybe you had somehow forgotten about that.
His cock sits between your bodies, the thick and tense figure of it flat against your stomach as Jake leans his face towards yours with a disgraced look of unhappiness.
“You thought you were gonna cum and then just get off?”
“At least let me catch my breath,” you laugh helplessly.
“You’ll live,” he tuts. “Goddamn. Definitely Norm’s sister, you’re cold.”
Hearing the childish whine in his voice makes you laugh out loud, though his look of unhappiness softens when you smile at him, stroking the side of his face.
“Aw, come on, big guy, you don't mean that,” you try, pushing yourself up against the tight wedge between your bodies. He flinches slightly, the crease between his brows lifting with intrigue. Try all he wants, but he soon gives up on looking displeased and grins back at you.
“You don’t even have to do anything,” Jake suggests thoughtfully, his face tilted as he tries to entice you.
In all honesty, you have no protests against fucking Jake. In fact, the thought of his cock being buried in your stomach again is nothing short of a need for you. He’s not the only one who’s been thinking about it all this time — it’s not a competition, but you’ve been daydreaming about the cock between his legs a lot longer than he’s been thinking about you.
“All you’d need to do is sit on it, really.” You tune back into Jake’s voice. You don’t know how much you missed, but the message is abundantly clear.
You smooth your hands down his neck, fiddling with the beaded choker. “I don’t think it can fit in today.”
Jake barks out a laugh. “Please. It fit fine before, princess.”
“Yeah, before you destroyed my vagina permanently. I’ll be too tight!”
That only makes Jake look more pleading. “That’s a good thing!”
“Jake, I—”
“Fine, then just the tip,” he tries, surging forward and pressing a desperate kiss to your lips. You taste the tangy sweetness of your cunt that Jake loves so much on his lips; seeing him so desperate for you to sit on his cock would be funny if it weren’t so sexy.
You bite your lip in thought as he peppers a string of kisses across your face, as if trying to persuade you.
“You only have to take the tip, that’s all. You’re dripping, you’ll take it no problem, but you don’t even have to work or do anything. I’ll do everything.”
“You’re begging,” you state flatly.
“I know,” he drawls in a whine that makes you roll your eyes. “But you’re my woman and I need this pussy like a fucking flower needs water.”
“According to Norm’s research,” you start, reaching for the tip of his cock with a hidden smile, “rainwater and Pandora plants are—”
“Fuck,” Jake laughs into your mouth, his teeth bared in a grin as he kisses you between his words, “off. You’re so annoying.” Another kiss, though his heart soars when your body rises slightly off his thighs, “Always yappin'.” His tail thrums excitedly behind him as you position yourself over his cock, brows knitted together. “Always going on and on about something.”
“You want me to sit on it or not?” you ask bluntly, but your half hearted attempt at sternness is seen through immediately.
“Hell yeah, mama,” he quips, hands already busy on your hips as he tries to sink you down on his cock.
You stifle a laugh at his eagerness. Who would have guessed that Jake would be begging you to let him fuck you? Two days ago, it would have been hard to imagine.
“Shut up then,” you mutter, but he graciously says very little besides his own personal vocabulary of vulgar words when the tip of his cock pushes into you.
It goes in so easily that you know Jake is trying his absolute hardest to remain true to his word. Your pussy lets him in with virtually no refusal, swallowing the tip of his cock so flawlessly that he physically tenses, his hands tightening around you as he lifts you up and down on the tip, being ever so careful as to not accidentally sink you all the way down to the base.
Even just the tip of his dick elicits such a primal response from your throat, your eyes blown open. Jake’s barely given you breathing room since your last orgasm, and the overstimulating feeling of his cockhead loyally spearing inside of you is mind-blowing.
He grunts desperately against your mouth, eyes closed as he tries to reign in his deepest impulses. You press a kiss to his lips; you know how hard it is for him to hold himself back. It is as though your body is remembering who he is, how his cock felt deep inside of you, and when you next feel Jake’s hands lifting you up off the tip and sinking you back down, his eyes immediately blow open when he feels you clench around him like a fist.
“I—shit,” he blurts, momentarily letting go as you sink back down on his cock, the tip of it pushing deeper inside of you as more of his cock pistons inside. He looks apologetic for a moment, because he didn’t mean for you to take more than the tip when that was all he had promised, but after hearing the strangled and high-pitched moan that escapes your lips, he rides his hope for a moment and curls his arms around your body, moulding his mouth against yours.
“Goddamn,” Jake whispers, catching every gasp and breath you take and give. “That’s right, beautiful, you can do it.”
Whimpering, your trembling hands come to hold his waist while he lounges back, his back leaning trustingly against the stack of crates under the window, his hands remaining firm around your body. Jake watches in anticipation as you drag yourself up off his cock, leaving behind a shining trail of juice down the deep blue of his length.
While you’re up there, Jake takes a quick gulp of CO2 — the sound of him taking a deep breath as he contents himself with watching you makes your heartbeat quicken, although you’re much more focused on sliding your pussy across his tip, the roundness of it slipping up your slit while a litany of moans produce from your mouth.
And then, by happy surprise, Jake realises he doesn’t have to fight it anymore when you go to slowly sink back down on him and slip, half of his dick disappearing up your cunt with almost no resistance whatsoever, and the breathless gasp that fills his ears is nothing short of sinful.
“Fuck yeah,” he moans, sitting up restlessly with his lips on your mouth again, as his hands complete his desire of sinking his cock deeper up your pussy. You whimper into him, the dull ache in your stomach intensifying when you feel his dick spearing up into your cunt, his hips rutting underneath you.
He did his best, but he can’t hold back anymore. The sight of you swallowing up his cock is the very picture of perfection.
It was one thing seeing you with your legs spread on that rock. It’s another thing entirely to have you around his dick like a flesh-light.
“You said just the tip,” you whimper.
“You slipped, I didn’t make you take more of it.”
“I—” You groan as his hand grips around your waist like you’re just a doll. “God, you’re so big.”
“Yeah,” he sniggers, lips still against yours like he’s glued there. “But look how well you take me.”
Your attempts to make him feel bad are pathetically wasted; you’re drenched, your wetness like a lube to Jake as he pistons his hips upwards. The squelch between you is embarrassingly loud, although to Jake it is the most heavenly sound in the world.
He grunts into your mouth, softly whispering encouraging yes’ into every word you attempt to speak but fail at saying.
“A perfect fit,” Jake mumbles, his tongue flicking past your lips with a gasping grunt, “’s'like I was made for you.”
There’s nothing you can say to that, nothing coherent at least. In your best effort to please Jake, you suck in a deep breath and lift, only to bottom out and sink to the base of his cock. It feels like Jake’s buried near your lungs; he’s so deep, much deeper than he felt at the rock.
Jake shifts back against the boxes stacked behind him. Then, he gracefully lifts his hips, shoving more of himself up there until he can see the dent of his dick in your tummy. He groans appreciatively, eyes darting back to your face after marvelling at the size of him buried inside of you.
“You’re so good,” he mutters, his breath kind of shaky as he takes in the image of you, looking all spent on his cock. He picks up on the struggling shake of your legs and feels your cunt tighten around him. “Lemme fuck you nice, mama.”
The speed at which you go limp on his cock tells him you have no protests. Jake secures his wide hands around your waist and tightens, focusing all of his energy into his arms as he lifts you up his cock and slams you back down. Both of you moan at the same time, and the clear image of you fucked out and exhausted in his lap makes his dick twitch inside of you.
A heat simmers between your legs — Jake has reduced you to a hole to fuck and you can’t even be bothered to move anymore. You can trust that your body will make room for him, and you can trust that Jake will be careful as he has his way with you. With that in mind, you relax like putty in his hands, shapeless as he fucks into you.
For a while, Jake says nothing of significance. It is as though he is buffering or on a loop, entirely focused on jerking you on his dick, his pupils blown black and wide as he zones out on the sweat lining your chest, the soft rise and fall of your tits as you bounce on his crotch. You watch him the whole time, eyes half-lidded and glazed but unmoving; he is a man in Heaven, in his greatest element.
There is nowhere he would rather be than here, and there is nothing you’d rather be doing than giving your body up for the man you have become completely enamoured with.
One particular thrust inside of you makes you cry out unexpectedly, and his eyes flicker back up to find yours. His dick punches back up to where he last found himself, desperately searching for the spot that made you cry out, and when he finds it, a lazy smirk lifts on his lips.
“You’re a dream.”
Your mouth opens, and another blubbery cry falls out without you thinking: “Yes…m'yours, Jake..."
Not exactly what he said, but his chest swells with pride regardless.
“Damn straight,” he grunts, flicking his hips roughly. You choke a noise of surprise, feeling the coil of pleasure tighten in your belly right as Jake for some reason begins to move. He picks himself up off the rug and lifts you, spinning until he finds a surface he can set you down on. The first thing he finds is the little desk near the door, and he clears it with a sweep of his arm and wraps his arms around you tightly.
The cool metallic surface makes you shudder, although, with the way he spears himself back inside of you, the warmth quickly returns to consume your body. Jake bows his chest over you, fucking himself between your legs and watching with fascination at his cock disappearing past your folds. It looks the same as it did last time, to his delight, and he sucks in a hiss of breath, reaching for the mask again.
“Mmm, Jake, I really can’t anymore,” you rasp out, wrapping your legs desperately around his waist and clinging to the round shape of his biceps. He groans loudly once the mask falls back down from his face, his lips curling to a pout.
“You can’t cum yet,” he protests dumbly.
“Jake,” you say again, already feeling your orgasm threatening to spill. His eyes flash with worry, though you can’t imagine what he might have to be worried about. “I need to—”
“Please,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek quickly, his voice a mumble against your skin as he says, “just a bit longer.”
You whimper right into Jake’s ear, his hips staggering into you for a second. More than anything, you want to find your release, to give up and let go and take a breather, but the desperation to make Jake happy finds itself taking precedence.
In your heart, you know that Jake is currently on cloud nine, overjoyed just with fucking you like this — if you came right now, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. More than likely, he’d just carry on. Still, you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth and your whole cunt clenches tightly around him, which he takes as a silent order to keep going, and he receives the message loud and clear.
Now, he is a man on a mission — see how long you can go until you cum all over him.
Jake would happily spend all night between your legs, fucking the hole he’s stamped his name on, filling you up with so much cum you’d be finding it for days. Something chemical has happened to him since acting on his greatest desires; he dreads to think what he’d be doing, how he’d be feeling if he hadn’t been inspired by Norm’s hatred.
To think that he’d be at his party in the village, maybe being swarmed by curious Omatikaya women with fascinations for their newest clan member, potentially even trying to redirect the feelings he has elsewhere…
No. He schools the thoughts into silence. Why fret over the what-ifs when the present is the most perfect thing in the universe?
Jake drives his hips forward, shifting his lips from your cheek to your mouth and accepting the breathless kiss you eagerly give him. Your arms slacken; you keep one hand poised loyally on his bicep while the other reaches for the side of his face, fisting around one of the dishevelled braids to the side of his head. The burn of you tugging on them is barely even noticeable, or if it is, he doesn’t show it. Jake just presses his mouth against yours with a profound laziness, his hips slowing as he thrusts into you at a comfortable pace.
A part of you bursts open; as Jake pounds into your pussy in an uncharacteristically slow manner, he kisses you each time his cock burrows back inside. Your face is unbelievably hot as one of his thick arms curves around your back and appears by the side of your head, hand cradling your face. He has you pinned in place, yet with such little force that it would be easy for you to slither free if you wanted.
You want nothing less. Not when Jake is kissing you like it’s his favourite thing in the world to do. Not when your body is so numb and warm you can barely even feel your legs anymore. Not when the man you would do anything for is right where he belongs — up your snatch, on your mouth, smiling between each kiss.
His tail swirls from side to side slowly, content as he listens to the wet sound of your mouth against his own, the squelch of your drenched pussy filling his ears as they prick to hear himself sinking inside of you. Jesus fuck, you’re so wet — if it wasn’t making you so turned on at the thought of Jake being over the moon from the sound of it, then you’d be squirming in embarrassment.
Jake grins into your mouth, sniggering as the soaking sloppy sounds grow more pronounced. Knowing that he’s grinning because of that, and because he knows he’s the cause of it, your bottom lip curls into a pathetic whimper.
“Hear that?” It’s obvious that you can, he knows that.
How he wishes you could smell it the way that he can — the smell of the sticky mess between both of your legs is nothing short of incredible; it's so sweet that when he inhales he almost shudders. You wouldn’t even need heightened Na’vi senses to smell the sex in the air, to smell Jake on your skin, to smell you over Jake’s face and body.
A witty reply is on the tip of your tongue, but as Jake kisses you again, slobber around his mouth and yours, you can no longer fight the bubbling pleasure in your abdomen, the pressure that gets heavier the longer you hold out.
Jake takes a sharp intake of breath, as if he can smell the distinct change in your body, the orgasm lapping over itself like a tidal wave until it breaches the surface — but his thrusting does not cease, not even when your entire body shakes beneath him, legs falling limp around his waist. And not even when he feels a wet warmth burst up over his chest, a horrified yet pleasured squeal ripping from your mouth as he glances down and sees your gushing release, the billows of cum pushing past the tight fit of his cock, and a shiny layer of juice on his chest.
He blinks in surprise, his eyes wide, and when his nose fills with the smell of you, the smell of your squirt over his torso, he laughs unexpectedly and lifts his head with the widest grin you’ve seen.
"Shit,” he laughs in disbelief, kissing away the aghast gape on your face.
Even as he chuckles into you, you feel your face burning with embarrassment. It’s one thing to cum on Jake’s cock. It’s another thing to squirt on him. It’s an entirely different thing for Jake to find it hilariously sexy.
“I’m so sorry!” you blurt, hands immediately cupping Jake’s face. His nose furrows as his face twists, both in amusement and confusion.
“Why’re you saying sorry?” he asks, still trying to reign in his disbelieving laughs. It’s been a hot second since he made anyone squirt that hard, no less squirt down his chest.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” you explain breathlessly. You barely even register the fact that Jake’s still thrusting into you until the numbness of your body subsides and each thrust upwards is met with a cry of overstimulated pleasure. “I’ve never done that, I—”
“You’re incredible,” Jake grins affectionately. You’re incredible.
Jake thinks he could go on for hours. He could go on until daybreak, until he heard the whirs of Trudy’s Samson over the top of the lab; he would continue fucking you until Norm stepped inside, until he found you both back here. But when you stare at him exhaustedly and smile back, his heart lurches out of his chest and changes his mind for him.
You feel Jake’s dick twitch inside of you, the feeling making you jolt slightly as he thrusts in a few more times, as if milking every last inch of your pussy until he’s forced to withdraw, and then he staggers forward, moaning loudly with a tight and sharp hiss, and a familiar warmth spurts in your stomach.
Jake’s back is bent over, his chest bowed over yours as he shudders through his orgasm; the unmistakable warmth of his cum pools in your stomach, ropes of it filling you up until it slips down past your quivering hole to the table beneath your ass and back. He groans a few times, fumbling for the mask before pressing it to his mouth.
“Yeah,” you sigh. You could very well be floating up off the table for all you knew.
Peering down at the sight of his hard dick still snuggled in your cunt, you watch the thick trails of his cum squeezing out of you. You kiss his temple while his head is still hanging low and mutter, “Fill me up, big guy.”
Jake moans, lips sealed closed — actually, it sounds more like a sob. “Jesus.”
“Give it to me,” you continue, murmuring the words against his head. Hey, you’re feeling much bolder now that he’s exhausted himself and you don’t have to worry about having another orgasm denied and then ripped out of you.
Jake chuckles breathlessly, all of the breath back in his lungs now that he’s emptied himself inside of you. “Didn’t you say you were glad humans couldn’t get knocked up by Na’vi?”
“No? When?”
He scoffs, eyes lifting to yours as he levels you with a challenging look. “Oh, so you want that? Want me to breed you like a dog, Spellman? Fill you up, watch that tummy grow?”
The revelation of Jake’s unexpected breeding kink makes you laugh. Once, Jake had told the lab that he didn’t know if he wanted kids — didn’t think he’d be a good father, didn’t think he’d be able to cope with the pressure of it. Perhaps it’s his Na’vi instincts calling out in a tune, making him besotted with the idea, but either way, you grin at him playfully and press a kiss to his mouth.
“Nah,” you assure him. His smile neither fades nor grows, thank goodness. “I’m in no rush for any of that, Sully.”
He sniggers, then. “Me too,” and after a quick kiss he slowly heaves himself out of you, watching your jaw slacken as he slides out with a sickeningly loud pop. “It’s fucking sexy to say it, though.”
Suddenly, as if he forgot for a moment, Jake’s head cranes to your cunt and as his cum swells near your hole, he grins and watches it as it threatens to drool out. When it does, down your ass cheek and onto the surface of the table, his tail thrashes in joy and his fangs glint in the light.
“Yummy,” he says, swiping his thumb across the little puddle of your cum and his and he sucks his lips around it, the little smack of his lips as he pulls it away making your thighs clamp together. “You taste good, honey.”
“It’s more you than me.”
Jake rises, his back still bent due to the low ceiling of the lab, but even now he’s looming over you, his hands reaching to help pull you up from your uncomfortable position to sit upright. You lift with a comically dramatic groan, and Jake rolls his eyes as you hunch forward, hands massaging your thighs sorely.
“I’m broken again,” you mumble, feeling the burn in your muscles as Jake takes himself to where his bunk is and fetches a towel from one of his storage boxes. By the time he gets back, the puddle of cum between your legs has doubled in size.
“You’ll manage,” Jake tells you affectionately, laying the towel flat in his best attempt to milk up the cum still pulsing out of you. He looks at the towel with a cringe — he can only hope the smell and colour will come out in the laundry.
After Jake’s done his best to clean you up, he takes himself to the laundry shoot and tosses the towel inside, making his way back to you quickly before you can stand up and stalk off somewhere.
“I brought you something, actually,” he tells you, suddenly thinking back to the gift he has strapped to his ikran’s leathers outside.
You hum vaguely. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. Neytiri helped me think of it before I got here. Just something quick and silly, but you’re gonna—”
“Oh, yeah,” you interrupt, reminded of how Jake ended up here in the first place. “Are you sure it was a good idea telling Neytiri that you already had a woman?”
Jake pauses. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing like that. Just that… Well, won’t she say something to the other villagers?” you think aloud. It had been on your mind in passing when Jake first told you when he’d arrived, but now that it’s back in your head, you can see Jake processing the thought before dropping to his haunches in a valiant effort to see you evenly.
“She’s close with the village, that’s all,” you continue. “And with Grace, I imagine.”
He blinks dumbly. “Oh yeah.”
For a second, nothing is said. How could Jake have not thought of that?
Realistically, you know that Jake was just excited to tell someone that he had a woman in his life — you hadn’t been presumptuous enough to believe that Jake couldn’t find someone even if he hadn’t acted on his impulses a few nights ago, but even now that you know he meant you after all, you can’t help but think of all the ways it may come back to bite you in the ass.
“I mean,” Jake says slowly, tail flicking, “I was hoping we’d tell people eventually. I don’t wanna hide with you forever.”
“Wait, you want to tell people?”
He looks at you with a funny look of bemusement. “Obviously.”
“About us fucking?”
“What? Well, I mean, yes, in a sense, but more like that we’re together.”
“…Are we?”
“I thought you were the smart one.”
“I’m just… You wanna be with me?” you ask. You’re almost certain that you look and sound stupid, based on the way Jake is staring at you with a wild look of alarm, but, can he blame you? You were just about getting around Jake wanting to sleep with you — now, he’s basically asking you out.
Jake splutters out a nervous laugh. “Was that seriously not obvious?”
You don’t allow him to feel nervous as you reach for his arms in reassurance. The feeling of your hands around his wrists calms him almost immediately.
“If you want to be my man, Jake Sully, there are requirements to meet.” His brows curve curiously, though the sloping smile on his face reappears, to your relief. “I will also need to speak with human Jake Sully about this development. This relationship goes three ways, as you know.”
“Fair enough,” he says, doing his best not to laugh at how cute he thinks you are. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy for you to just forget all about him, though.”
“Never gonna happen,” you stress to him. “And I need quality time with you. If we fuck all the time, I’m scared my vagina will actually break beyond repair. You have two bodies to please me with, I’ve only got the one. You have to go easy on me.”
“Noted,” he nods. It’s sweet how seriously he’s taking all of this.
“And, last but not least…” You trail off and reach forward to kiss his lips again. Jake’s eyes flutter closed — his lips are still slightly tingly from kissing you stupid. You pull away all too quickly for his liking, and when he opens his eyes to look for you, his entire face softens affectionately. “We need to do something about Norm.”
Sighing dramatically, Jake weighs the very difficult options in his head.
Become his woman by spending more time with you? Easy. Consider it already done. But kill all the fun and tell Norm before he figures it out the hard way? Jake’s lips curl into a scowl at the thought of such a marvellous opportunity going wasted.
“How about…we do all of that and let Norm find out by himself?” Jake suggests. It’s an even trade — you’ll both get what you want, and you’ll both feel scores of satisfaction at the end of it.
When you don’t say anything for a moment, Jake is prepared to sign his defeat and give in, but then, when you grin at him and shrug, he hears the holy gates of Heaven open up in his favour and the angels sing.
Yep. You’re his. He’s yours.
Now he just can’t wait for everyone else to find out about it.
#jake sully#jake sully x reader#jake sully x human reader#avatar (2009)#avatar x reader#na'vi x human#avatar the way of water#avatar driver jake sully#human jake sully#norm spellman#jake sully smut#avatar smut#smut#ittojean#jeanbie#fantasize
405 notes
·
View notes
Note
ive got an idea where theres like a school dance and you and satoru go together and you two are slow dancing together until pregnancy nausea gets to you and you get extremely dizzy and almost pass out cause you didnt wanna ruin the moment. AND SATORUS SO WORRIED AAHAHDH i love this idea
it’s during a gala in honor of students’ graduation. you don’t want to miss it because you want to congratulate hakari and kirara in person, so you didn’t tell your husband that you have thrown up 3x prior going together to the venue.
and you really shouldn’t have because halfway through the event, you don’t feel too well anymore.
“you look pale,” satoru whispers in your ear worriedly as you slow dance together. “do you want to rest a bit?”
“no,” you insist. “i’m fine—”
but the second you said that, your vision blurs and you miss a step. and you would really fall if not for satoru’s arms holding you tightly.
“hey—” he looks down at you, discovers your labored breathing and clicks his tongue. “you’re not.”
no one probably notices it, as satoru somehow turns it into a part of the dance step before he sweeps you off your feet. everyone who sees immediately claps their hands and whistles, and he flashes them all a thin smile before whisking you to the infirmary.
“why didn’t you tell me?” he asks as soon as he lay you on the bed, his piercing blue eyes assessing you. “queasy? have you taken your anti-sickness pill?”
oh. you shake your head, feeling guilty for forgetting it. but you’re surprised when he procures it from his pocket, realizing it. he brings your medication around in case it’s necessary.
he gets you a glass of water and ushers you to down the pill. afterwards, you lay back on the bed and close your eyes, willing the vertigo away.
“you big dummy… you should’ve told me.” satoru strokes your head with a frown. “you can’t wait until you pass out. do you like making me worry?”
“no… i don’t mean to…”
“there are two of you now.” he places an hand on your belly. your bump isn’t visible yet, but it’s really there and he can feel it. he can feel his worry rising again. “what if something happens to you if you don’t tell me anything? how do you think it’ll make me feel?”
you reach out for his hand and squeeze it. “sorry…”
satoru’s heart melts seeing you so vulnerable like this. and he decides you have gotten his point now, so he sighs and presses a kiss on your forehead.
“hmph. forgiven. let’s go back home now. i’ll take care of my two babies.”
#you all sure love making him so worried🥺#pls make do with this little hurt/comfort before an actual long fic🤭#—chu’s mailbox 📬#—headcanons☁️#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠
446 notes
·
View notes
Text
❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 LOVEFOOL ahn yujin x idol!reader
🪽★ ͘ ⴰ in which yujin realizes that the girl that the girl that’s caught her attention is the same annoying younger sister of her ex member that told her she needs dance lessons
warnings: yn is apart of new jeans and is sakura’s younger sister, fluff, yn is described as a brat, swearing
all yujin can think right now is how stupid she is.
of course the yn that she’s fallen for is the little shit head that told her that she needed “dance lessons” a couple years back.
yujin was definitely in shock when her and wonyoung knocked on the door to the lesserafim dorms and instead of being met with one of the members at the door, yn opened it, the girl that she’s been talking to for the last couple months.
also sakura’s little sister.
“hey unnie, what are you doing here?” yn asked with a smile on her face, opening the door wider so wonyoung and yujin could come in.
“I should be asking you that,” yujin says standing in front of the girl awkwardly earning a confused look from yn as wonyoung walks deeper into the house, leaving them at the front.
“you mean chilling at my older sister’s place?” yn says tilting her head, yujin would’ve thought that was adorable but due to the circumstances that was the last thing on her mind and it was now her turn to look confused.
“you never told me kazuha was your older sister,” she replies dumbly which causes yn to let out a big laugh.
“my last name is miyawaki not nakamura you dummy.” yn says in a playful tone looking up at yujin and pushing her shoulder softly.
wait?
“oh…”
“yeah oh,” yn mocks before grabbing yujin’s hand and placing the older girls arm over her shoulder, “now let’s go, she’s actually been wondering who ive been talking to, I can’t wait to see the look on her face," yn says mischievously and again yujin would’ve found it adorable if it wasn’t for the circumstances.
"oh, also my members are here as well."
yn who yujin now remembers as sakura’s brat of a little sister is the same yn that’s practically her girlfriend, how did she not see the similarities? yn is still very much a brat the only difference is that yujin now finds it cute rather than repulsive.
and the last names, gosh was she really blinded by love to not realize that yn had the same exact last name as her former member?
yujin wonders if yn still sees her as a bad dance, yn is an amazing dancer one of the best yujin has ever seen, was yn just suppressing her thoughts now that she liked yujin?
yujin doesn't know why it bothered her but it did, if yn really did still think she was a bad dancer it would completely ruin her self confidence, who knew when you liked someone how much power their opinion could have over you.
"hey, you okay?" yujin looks down to see yn looking up at up her still lucked under her arm, "are you nervous? come on its just sakura who you should be worried about is minji-gosh I can already see the glares." yn rambles.
"I'm okay," yujin smiles at yn hesitantly, thoughts still clouding her mind as they reach the living room where everyone is.
the talking that filled the room stoped when they entered the room, sakura's eye widening when she takes notice of yujin's arm over yns shoulder.
"yujin, you're the girl?" is the first thing that comes out of sakura's mouth, yujin can feel the new jeans leaders gaze on her but that's the least of her worries right now.
"yeah..." she responds nervously, yujin really wished now wasn't the time that all of this was being unwrapped not with all the thoughts that are circulating her mind right now.
"why is it so quiet?" yn asks with sass in her voice like always causing everyone to start back up their conversations while sakura gets up from her seat on the couch and walks over to the couple.
"is this for real?" she whispers, "you guys genuinely like each other?" both girls nod, yn with a little bit of more attitude because is that even a question?
sakura turns to yujin, "you know she's quite the handful right? can you handle her?"
"she can handle me just fine thank you very much." yn butts in leaning into yujin's side as yujin nods.
sakura stares at them for a little longer before letting out a sigh, "as long as you guys are happy I guess,"
"we're gonna have to set some ground rules, but that's for another time, we're gonna play just dance come on."
dance? why did that sound like the worst to yujin right now.
yn squeals and removes herself from under yujin's arm and jumps onto sakura's back as the older girl walked away, "I'm gonna crush everyone."
yujin trails behind them, this should've been an enjoyable moment but not with all these insecurities circling her mind.
she walked into the room and gave everyone a greeting and smile as they set up the game before taking seat beside minji who leans over to her, "we're gonna have to set some ground rules."
yujin lets out a sigh "yeah, I figured."
yujin kept to herself as everyone had fun playing the game and just as yn said she destroyed everyone, it was at the point that everyone was trying to forbid her from playing for the next couple of rounds but it was all fun and games, yujin wished she was in the right state of mind to enjoy this moment with everyone else.
"hey," yujin is snapped out of thoughts by the voice she loves the most, she looks up to see yn sitting beside her while everyone is still discussing kicking yn out "wanna verse me?"
that did not sound enjoyable at all.
"no, it's okay," yujin says quietly.
"are you okay?" yn asks worried, and that's a tone that you'll barely hear from the younger girl, "your vibe is completely off right now."
"I'm fine."
yn shot yujin a look that screamed "get real" before standing up and grabbing yujin's hands and pulling her into the hallway nobody even noticing to deep into their deep discussion.
"okay, tell me what's going on." yn said crossing her arms over her chest, "and don't give me any bullshit"
yujin lets out a sigh and mumbles so quietly that yn couldn't hear her.
"what?"
"If I'm gonna be honest I completely didn't put together that you and sakura unnie are sisters so seeing you here today really brought it to light but then I remembered what you said to me a couple of years ago about how I needed dance lessons and it didn't bother me much back then you were just really annoying but then now with how much I like you and I wonder if you really think im a bad dancer yujin says rushingly while yn looks at her in shock.
"yujin," she whispers her face softening as she grabs both of the taller girls hands, "of course I think you're a good dancer."
yujin just stares at yn as she continues, "you really remembered what thirteen year old me said to you? thirteen year old me thought you were the cutest girl ever but decide to tease the hell out of you because she couldn't handle having a crush."
yujin feels a smile make its way to her face at that, "you had a crush on me for that long?" she teases quietly as yn rolls her eyes, "yes, and im sorry for making you think that you weren't a good dancer, you're amazing"
"yn apologizing, this is a once in a blue moon experience." yujin smiles pulling yn closer to her who just laughs and rolls her eyes once more, "yeah, yeah don't get used to it," she responds before softly placing her lips softly on yujin's who kisses her back right away chasing yns lips when she pulls away from the older girl laughing.
"lets go back before minji untie realizes were gone and loses her head." yn says interlocking her hand with yujin who nods understandingly.
"evern though she's younger than me she's really scaring." yujin says as yn drags her.
"lets not focus on her and lets focus on how im gonna crush you in just dance, that you'll want dance lessons."
that should've made yujin offended but all she could do is smile and look at the younger girl fondly.
she really was a lovefool.
#yujin x reader#ahn yujin x reader#ive x reader#Lesserafim#new jeans#ive fluff#girl group imagines#girl group fluff#yujin fluff
576 notes
·
View notes
Text
School
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You have a bad first day
The school is fancy.
It's private (the only one that Magda and Pernille could find on short notice) and you get put into a fancy uniform.
Magda thinks that a school blazer is too much for such a little girl to be wearing but it was the uniform policy so she bought it. You look incredibly grown up, perhaps too grown up for the little baby that used to sleep in her arms and cry when she hid your dummy.
Now though, she's the one crying.
"Magda," Pernille whispers," Smile. You're going to make her cry too."
Magda doesn't really think you need her help for that. You cling to her hand tightly, scuffing the ground with your fancy new shoes. You flinch every time a child goes past you and you worry your bottom lip with your teeth.
Magda puts on the biggest, fakest smile she can manage and tries to look encouraging.
You give her a weak smile back before shuffling forward and then back towards her again.
"Hallo!" A stern looking woman says from the classroom door.
"Hallo," You whisper back.
Magda stiffens when the woman gives you an odd look. She knows why though. You speak German very well but on certain words, you have the tiniest of accents and it's clear that this woman picks up on it.
Magda tightens her grip on you as Pernille talks to the teacher.
"Hey," She says," I love you."
You look towards the classroom where kids your age are running about and screaming.
"Don't want to," You whisper," Morsa, I don't want to."
"I know," She says," I don't want you too either but we're both going to be very brave and get through today."
"No," You say," No, I don't want to be brave. I want to go home." The little crinkle in your brow appears and your bottom lip wobbles.
"It's okay," Pernille joins you both now, cupping your face and smoothing out your crinkle," Just a few hours and then we'll pick you up and we'll go back to training."
You sniffle. "I want to go to training now."
"I know," Pernille says," But you've got school first."
You huff and look back at the classroom and the stern lady waiting for you.
"The sooner you start school, the sooner you can leave," Morsa promises you and that's enough to get you moving.
Two hours into your school day, you decide that you don't like it at all.
Your classmates are mean and the little boy who sits next to you pulls your hair and spits. It's very gross.
Your teacher isn't nice either. You don't think she likes you either. She's kind of mean and speaks very quickly to you as if to catch you out with something.
Your German is good and Momma and Morsa have been teaching you to read at home but it's a little slower reading in German than your other languages.
You know you can read Swedish and Danish well because Momma and Morsa focus on that at home and you can read English too because sometimes Jessie and Niamh would help you while you sat on the bench with them.
You didn't really have anyone to read German with but you know how to read in your other languages so it's kind of the same and all you need to do is sound out the words.
You don't know why she's picking on you because everyone else is struggling too. It's not your fault.
"We speak German here. Not English," She says a bit spitefully but, strangely, in English when you pass her for breaktime.
That makes an icky feeling appear in your stomach and you sit by yourself at break on the playground.
Your other classmates seem to have picked up on the weird atmosphere your teacher has created around you because nobody comes to play with you.
You've never really had much interaction with kids your age so you're not too sure whether you should invite yourself into someone else's game or wait for them to invite you. You don't want to make people not like you more.
So, you sit at the very edge of the playground and dig at some weeds with a stick. You want to go and play football with the boys but you saw them turn away another girl who wanted to play earlier so you stay far away.
Your day doesn't really get better because after break your teacher is still very mean and she gets an annoyed and somewhat angry look on her face when you burst into tears.
She sends you by yourself to the reception lady, who takes one look at you and gives you tissues to dry your face before calling Momma and Morsa.
The receptionist woman is nice and you wish she was your teacher instead of the mean woman because she shares half her chocolate bar with you while you wait.
Momma and Morsa come quickly, still in their training kits and you burst back into tears all over again.
You curl yourself into Momma and sob. "Don't want to do school anymore," You choke out," Don't make me. No more!"
Momma hushes you softly, tucking you into her so you have some semblance of privacy. She picks you up too as Morsa spits venom at the poor reception lady who, quite graciously, accepts it in her stride.
"So mean," You explain to Momma as you both sit in the car," She's so mean. Momma, she's picking on me." You tug off your blazer and pull at your shirt. "I don't want to go back."
"I know you don't," Momma says," But-"
"No!"
Morsa opens the door and slams herself into her seat in annoyance. "That foul, foul, pathetic excuse for a teacher," She bites out," I told you, didn't I, Pernille? That I got bad vibes off her?!"
"I know, Magda," Momma says quietly," Let's just get back to training and discuss it tonight..." She jerks her head towards you and you know that means this conversation will be had when you're in bed and asleep.
You wish they would include you but you also know that this conversation will be long and boring with lots of adult topics that will probably get confusing.
"Hey," Morsa says, wiggling your knee as Momma starts the car," We're going to head back to training. Your gloves are in your practice bag, if that will make you feel better?"
You nod.
That would make you feel better.
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#The Big Adventures Universe
521 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bad Habit | Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader
[3.0k]
Summary: your brother’s friend has a bad habit of sneaking into your bedroom
Content: Smut (18+ ONLY), AFAB!reader, r is Steve’s adopted sister and is a year younger than him, making out, grinding, oral/fingering (f receiving), virgin!reader, some pet names, fluff, two dummies in love <3
part two
The first time Eddie climbed through your bedroom window, you thought he was just trying to scare you. You had no idea you’d end that night in Eddie Munson’s lap desperately making out and barely giving in to the need for air.
Now, it’s a part of your nightly routine. It’s pretty simple.
Step 1: Get ready for bed
Step 2: Say goodnight to your naive brother
Step 3: Triple check that your door is locked and let in the cute boy patiently waiting outside your window
Sneaking around with Eddie made you feel alive. He sees you for who you really are.
Everyone else sees you as the quiet, innocent girl that occupies the corner of a room while your eyes wander, observing the people around you. While there’s nothing wrong with those things, Eddie knew you were much more than that and he was the perfect person to help you break out of your shell.
People expect you to be just like your brother. But when you turned out to be the complete opposite, no one paid much attention to you. As much as you loved Steve, being in his shadow made you feel invisible.
You weren’t much of a partier and you weren’t… friendly like Steve was. And by friendly you meant a little slutty. It was hard to get out there and make more friends let alone date anybody.
You were so drawn to Eddie from the moment you met him and ever since that first night he snuck into your room, you felt your walls start to come down and he’s the only person that doesn’t make that scary.
——————————————————————————
Three taps on your window alert you that Eddie’s outside. You scurry over to let him in and greet him with a quick peck on the lips. Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands find your waist, pulling you a step closer to him.
“Hey, gorgeous” He says with his signature smirk on his face.
“Hi’ You reply, shyly. Even though Eddie helps you out of your comfort zone, you can’t help but avert eye contact whenever he compliments you.
Every time you do, Eddie puts his hand under your chin and gently tilts your head up. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl” He loves making you bashful almost as much as he loves kissing you.
Eddie guides you to your bed, never breaking eye contact. He falls backwards and pulls you down with him, making you giggle.
“I missed you” He whispers quietly, like he’s scared you’ll hear him being vulnerable. “I missed you, too.” Usually you would make a joke like “yeah it’s been a whole twenty-four hours. How did you survive?” But you always miss him.
You can’t exactly tell him you wish you could shrink yourself to three inches tall so you can live in his pocket and never be apart, so you cover it up with humor. But right now, there’s nothing funny about the way your heart is beating because of the way he’s looking at you. Like you’re the only girl in the world.
Eddie likes to tease you. He thinks it’s cute that you whine when he doesn’t immediately give you what you want. He knows it's a little mean but it makes him feel wanted and being wanted by you is the best thing he’s ever experienced.
His nose brushes yours and you think he’s going to put his lips on yours, but instead he gives you a soft kiss on your cheek. Then on your forehead. And one on both corners of your mouth.
“Eddiieeee” You whine and he chuckles. “What, baby?” He asks like he has no clue what he’s doing to you. So as expected, you do your signature pouty face and he has to act like it doesn’t affect him as much as it actually does.
You decide you can’t wait anymore. You take his face in your hands and lean in to get what you’ve been waiting for all day.
His hand comes up to grab a hold of your wrist. You worry he's going to remove your hands from his face, but he just keeps his hand on your wrist, rubbing it lovingly with his thumb. His other hand goes to rest on your lower back, sliding under your shirt. The feeling of his big hand on the bare skin of your back sends shivers down your spine.
Eddie’s tongue swipes across your bottom and you open your mouth to grant him access. He brings the hand that’s holding your wrist to where his other hand rests on your lower back. Both hands begin to slide up your back, making your shirt ride up all the way to your shoulder blades.
You let out a small gasp, suddenly feeling exposed. “You okay?” Eddie asks, worried by your reaction to your shirt being halfway off. You hum in response and find his lips again.
For the past month, you and Eddie hadn’t gone further than messily making out and clothed dry humping. It’s not that you don’t want to go further. You want nothing more than to rip his clothes off and then have him do the same to you, but you worry that your lack of experience would turn him off.
It was no secret to Eddie that you were a virgin. Considering he was your first kiss since Bobby Hopkins in the third grade and how nervous you got around him, it wasn’t that hard to piece together. Of course he wants to be your first time, but doesn't want to pressure you. If things never went any further and he had to go home and jerk off after every makeout session, he would happily do so.
After a while, you pull back for air and roll off of Eddie, laying on your side to look at him. He rolls on his side to look at you. “Hi” He speaks up, scooting closer to you. “Hi” You place a kiss on the tip of his nose. His hand comes up to rest on your hip and you cover his hand with your own.
Neither of you speak a word. You just stare into each other's eyes with lovesick smiles on your faces and soak in each other's presence. These nights are your favorite. Everytime you all hang out in a group, you ache to touch him. It’s difficult to keep your hands off one another, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make if it means keeping your brother from killing Eddie.
Eddie’s about to say something but before he can, there’s a knock at your door. “y/n?’’ Steve calls out your name from the other side of your bedroom door. Your eyes widen and both of you freeze. Steve says your name again and you know he isn’t going away until you respond.
“Y-yeah?” You barely get out. Steve tries to open your door and sounds offended when it doesn’t open. “Why the hell is your door locked?” He’s still wiggling the doorknob. “Because I’m allowed to lock it. How can I help you?” Eddie snorts at this and you glare at him.
“Do you have my walkman?” You can’t help but roll your eyes at this question. “No, I don’t have your walkman. I have my own walkman that I got on the same Christmas that you got yours. I’ll help you look in the morning.” You hear Steve huff dramatically and walk away.
“I’m gonna put on some music” You say before rolling off your bed. “Play my favorite?” Eddie requests. You were going to play his favorite anyway.
Once the music starts, you turn around and see Eddie playing air guitar. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t move from where you're standing. You just stay put and watch him act like a total idiot. He’d act like an idiot for the rest of his life if it meant making you smile.
He finishes his air guitar solo and looks over at you and tilts his head. “C'mere,” He says, motioning for you to sit next to him.
Once you get to the bed, you crawl towards him and straddle his lap. Feeling hot and bothered, you place your hands on his shoulders and start to grind down on him. Eddie lets out a sigh and throws his head back to rest on your headboard.
Feeling bold, you take his chin in your hand and move his head so he’s looking at you. He puts his hands on your hips and encourages you to move faster.
You can feel him getting hard and you let out a small moan. Eddie puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you closer to him, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss.
You’re moaning into each other's mouths and it feels so good, but you need more. You pull away from him and take a second to catch your breath, thinking of how you want to word what you’re about to say.
Eddie can tell you want to tell him something. “What is it, baby?” He brings a hand to your face and rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek. Your heart swells at how well he knows you.
“I was wondering if we could take things a bit further tonight.” You respond and his smile widens. “Hell yeah we can. You sure?” You can’t nod fast enough.
“Lay on your back for me. Don’t be scared to tell me if you want me to stop, kay?”
“Okay” You smile and roll onto your back.
Eddie hovers over you and leans down to give you a quick peck on the lips. Then he starts to kiss down your jaw and to your neck. He starts with light kisses and when he hits the sensitive spot on your neck, he kisses harder. He starts to suck on your sensitive spot, making you moan.
Usually, you both steer clear hickeys to avoid questionings from any of your friends and your brother, especially. But right now, you’re so turned on you can’t find it in yourself to care. You wrap your arms around his back and push his full weight onto you. He licks and kisses at the fresh mark.
“Fuck, that feels nice” You moan out. “Want me to do something even better?” He pulls back and smirks at you. “Please.”
He goes to tug at the hem of your shirt and looks at you for approval. Once you give it to him, he removes your shirt and is pleased to see that you aren’t wearing a bra. He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. “What? No sane woman wears a bra to bed.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Trust me, I am not complaining.”
He goes back to kissing your neck. His kisses start moving down to your chest and he plants one on each of your breasts before taking one of your nipples in his mouth.
It feels…different, but in the best way possible. “Eddie, that feels so good” You’re trying to keep quiet but you’re feeling things you’ve never felt before.
“Say my name again”
“Do something that will make me say your name again”
You can tell he’s surprised at that.
“Challenge accepted”
He kisses down your stomach and puts his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. At a torturously slow place, he pulls your shorts down and throws them on the floor. “No panties either? Is it my birthday, sweetheart?” You laugh and roll your eyes. “Get back to it, Munson” You say in the most unserious tone ever. “Jeez, okay. Someone’s bossy”
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you, uh, take your shirt off too? This feels unfair”
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to take off his shirt.
“Maybe your pants too?”
“Anything for you” And he means it.
He stands up to take off his pants. Once they’re off you can see how hard he is and your jaw drops. Your clit throbs at the sight and you involuntarily whine.
Eddie sits on his knees, placing himself in between your legs. “I’m gonna touch you now, okay?” “Eddie, please. Need you” you mewl.
He runs a finger through your folds and groans at how wet you are. “All this for me, baby?”
You nod “Just for you. Always”
“Tell me, pretty girl. Do you ever touch yourself and think of me?” He starts to slowly rub your clit. Your eyes roll back and you slap your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. “Tell me or I’ll stop” You remove your hand from your mouth and try to keep quiet. “Yes. Every night after you leave”
He starts rubbing your clit a little faster and you start to lose composure. “What do you think about?”
“I think about you touching me. Just like this. Or going down on me. I think about your cock inside me. Fucking me until I can’t take it anymore” You admit. “Hmm. I think we could start to make some of those fantasies realities”
He removes his fingers from your clit and you feel like you’re gonna pass away if he doesn’t make you cum any time soon. “Eddie, please don’t stop. pleasepleaseplease. Touch me again” You feel desperate for begging, but lucky for you, Eddie is even more turned on than before.
He doesn’t say anything. He just lays down between your legs, admiring how wet you are. You’re about to beg some more but then he starts to run his tongue up and down your folds. “Oh my god”
He begins to suck your clit and it feels so fucking good you can’t believe it. Sure, you’ve heard your friends talk about it, but you never would’ve imagined it feeling this good.
Your eyes start to tear up and you look down at Eddie, letting out a moan when you see how much he’s enjoying it.
Your fingers thread through his hair and pull it a little, making him moan into your pussy. You swear you feel the vibrations throughout your entire body. You don’t think it can get any better until Eddie slowly inserts a finger into you. You would have expected it to feel uncomfortable, but there's nothing unpleasant about it. “More, Eds” You plead.
He thinks about teasing you for a second, but he knows how badly you want it. He obliges and inserts another finger, reaching that spot you can never reach on your own.
You can feel the tension building in your stomach and Eddie starts going faster. His fingers are pumping in and out of you and you can hear how wet you are. He’s eating you out like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Eddie can’t help rutting up against the mattress. The way your pussy feels and the noises you make are driving him fucking mad. Both of you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven.
It hits you like a fucking bus. Your back is arching off the bed and you have to cover your face with your pillow because it’s impossible to keep quiet. You’ve never been more thankful that you don’t share a wall with Steve.
Eddie works you through your orgasm and slowly takes his fingers out of you when you're finished. You look lifeless and he can’t help but chuckle at how blissed out you look. He slowly crawls next to you and lays down,
“You alright?” He whispers.
“Well, I feel like I left my body for a second so I would say I’m more than alright.”
“Good. So you had fun?” Eddie sounds insecure. You turn to look at him before you respond.
“Eddie, were you not there? I was losing my mind. I had no idea it could be that good” You give him a well-deserved ego boost and he flashes his million dollar smile. “Okay, your turn.” You say, eagerly. “Don’t worry, babe. I came in my boxer like a goddamn teenager.” His cheeks turn red and you give him a kiss on the cheek. “Next time?” you ask. “Definitely”
You lay your head on his chest and he wraps an arm around you. “Thank you” You say, snuggling as close as possible. “For what?” He starts to rub your back. “Everything. My life’s better with you in it’’ Eddie’s heart nearly bursts. He can’t believe he’s improved your life even a little bit.
“Anything for my girl” He kisses the top of your head. Your lift your head up and look at him with the biggest smile on your face “Your girl?” Eddie tries to play it cool “Yeah, if that’s something you’d be interested in.” You can’t think of anything else you’d rather be. “Only if you agree to be my boyfriend.” “Hm.. can I think about it?” You playfully smack his chest. He grabs your hand and kissed it, looking into your eyes.
“How about you agree to be my girlfriend and I’ll agree to be your boyfriend and everyone’s happy”
“Deal, boyfriend” You can’t resist the urge to kiss him any longer. He hums in appreciation and the kiss goes on longer than intended.
“I should probably get going” He sighs. “Nooooo” you protest, holding on to him tighter. “I know, but I gotta unless you want to risk your overprotective brother finding out I’m here” You know he’s right and you move allowing him to get up. He hands you the clothes thrown on the floor and you both get dressed.
“Maybe I can stay with you tomorrow night? I can tell Steve I’m staying with a friend.” You move to stand in front of Eddie. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles and pulls you in for a hug.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” You nod and he gives you one last kiss.
You watch him climb out of your window and after you shut it, you stare out your window to watch him run out of your yard. He turns around to give you a wave and being the wonderful girlfriend that you are, you decide to flash him. Without hesitation, Eddie lifts his shirt up and flashes you back, causing you to laugh a little too loud.
There’s no doubt in your mind that this is the man you’re going to spend your life with.
#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x afab reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x harrington!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#18+ fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
“Something you wanted.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
Summary: you show up to Eddie and Wayne’s with gifts.
Warnings: language, very soft eddie, eddie doesn’t know how to react to presents, some insecurities on his behalf, new relationship with him and the reader. i hope everyone had a great christmas!!<3 okay and also i’m not going to do my taglist anymore because that’s a pain in the ass so sorry for my laziness!!
“Merry Christmas!” You beamed, lugging in bags of christmas presents in your arms, huffing a breath as you tried to cram yourself in the door.
“Uh- babe,” Eddie helped usher you through the door, eyeing your skeptically. “Why do you look like Santa Clause?”
You chuckled as you dropped your gifts to the floor, face red from the cold. “I look like mrs. clause, thank you very much. You like my skirt?” You twirled your red and white skirt, matched with a red sweater and a santa hat on your head.
“What are you doing here?” He started patting the snow off your shoulders, closing the door to his home. “Thought you’d weren’t coming over till tomorrow.”
“Well tomorrow won’t be christmas anymore!” You smiled, looking around the trailer. “Is Wayne here?”
Eddie gave you another weird look before turning. “Old man! Y/n’s here!” When he looked back you were on the ground shuffling through your gift backs.
“What are those for?”
You paused, looking up at him to give a funny look. “What do you think they’re for? They’re for you guys, dummy! Christmas presents!”
“All of these?!” His eyes widened. “Y/n- no way, you shouldn’t have.”
“I know that.” You chuckled, taking them out one by one at his feet. “But I wanted too.”
“Why is Santa in our living room?” Wayne announced himself, standing in the kitchen with a raised brow.
“Merry Christmas, Wayne!” You waved, sparking off your pearly teeth. “You guys go sit down so I can pass these out!”
Eddie looked to his guardian with confused eyes, not sure what to do. Wayne muttered under his breath as he made his way to the couch, nodding for Eddie to sit down.
“Okay, so I have these labeled.” You crawled over to their feet with two gifts in hand. “Read what it says.” You sat them in their lap.
Eddie was looking at it like it was a ticking time bomb, while Wayne fished out his reading glasses. “Something you need.” His voice came out in a deep hum.
“Are we supposed to open it?” Eddie said confused.
Wayne rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Yeah, Eddie, open it!”
He nodded before both of them started to tear open the paper, and you noticed how Eddie kept looking at you, then to the other gifts you had behind you.
“Underwear?” Eddie raised a brow, holding up a five back of boxers.
“Oh, thank god,” Wayne exhaled. “You’ve been living in those blue checkered ones for three years now.”
“I have not!” Eddie burned red, straightening. “Quit talking, old man, and open you’re shit.”
“Hey, I’m the one who does your laundry, boy, I outta know.”
You giggled behind your teeth, watching as Eddie felt the fabric at the opening, giving you an awkward smile.
“Batteries?” Wayne said skeptically.
“Uh-huh!” You nodded. “Because the last time I was over you were bitching about your flashlight dying with those old batteries, so know you don’t have to bitch!”
“Thank god.” Eddie praised. “Say, thank you, old man.”
Wayne gave his nephew a glare before giving you a grateful nod. “Thanks, kid.”
“You’re welcome.” You nodded back. “Okay, next!” You reached behind you to grab two other gifts, making their jaw drop.
“Y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie furrowed his brows as you placed another gift in his lap. “We don’t need-”
“Something to read.” Wayne read the label on the red paper before tearing it open.
Eddie hurried to catch up.
“Hey, nice,” Wayne chuckled. “Peanuts comics.” He showed to Eddie. Wayne liked to read the comics in the paper before work, especially peanuts and Garfield. “Thanks, doll.”
“No fucking way.” Eddie cursed, revealing a thick, brown book. “You did not.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “Y/n, this is-”
“Not as expensive as you think.” You finished for him, grabbing his calf. “Just look inside, it’s actually pretty cool!”
It was a collectors edition version of The Fellowship of the Ring, maps on the inside, facts of lore and inspiration from the author. Eddie had seen it once in a bookstore in Indianapolis. That was four months ago.
“Pretty cool?” Eddie’s voice rose an octave. “Babe, this is amazing.” He looked over at Wayne, holding up his book as the man smiled at him. “Look away, old man.” Eddie flung his hand toward Wayne as he leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. “Thank you so much.” Eddie allowed himself to smile. “Really, thanks a lot. This is epic.”
You blushed, your heart warming at his own happiness. “Okay last one.” You placed two other gifts in their lap as wrapping paper laid down at their feet.
“Something you wanted.” Eddie read this time, giving you a smile.
Wayne tore into his quickly, making you laugh as he revealed his present. “Now, just how and the hell did you know I wanted this?” Wayne chuckled, holding out his new leather wallet. It was expensive, but they didn’t need to know that.
“I specifically heard you say damn wallet one day when the zipper was stuck.” You smirked, patting his knee.
“New chains!” Eddie squealed that time, nearly jumping in his seat. “Holy shit, thank you!”
You smiled widely, then over to Wayne who looked very proud. “You’re welcome, Ed’s.”
“These will look perfect on my black jeans, don’t you think?” He asked, taking them out of the package.
“Without a doubt.” You tossed off your santa hat, getting hot. “Look right sexy.”
And then Eddie got quiet. Very quiet. Both you and Wayne noticed it, but he was the first to say something. “You okay, bud?”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything, keeping his head down. You tried to find his eyes but couldn’t, chewing on your lip nervously. He had seemed to like everything.
Wayne mentioned something about going out for a smoke, stepping over the wrapping paper and thanking you once more for the gifts.
“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his ankle. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”
Your heart sank when you saw he was crying. “Hey,” you said gently, moving to sit beside him on the couch. “Eddie, what’s wrong? I saved the receipts if you want to exchange them.”
“Exchange them?” Eddie looked at you, eyes tearful and red. “No, y/n, it isn’t that. It’s just…”
This wasn’t normal for him. Wayne and him would give each other something small sure, but someone coming into their home with gifts wasn’t normal. Someone thinking of them for a change wasn’t normal. You should of realized, but it wasn’t your fault. This was your first christmas with him.
“Hey,” You grabbed his red cheeks. “You deserve every little bit of this and more, you hear me?” You wiped his tears with your thumbs. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you. I wanted to do this.”
“I’m sorry,” He shook his head shamefully. “I just..well, I’m not very good at this stuff. I have something for you too, but it’s not near as good as all of this.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, baby.” You shook your head. “That’s not what this is about. I just want you to know how much I care about you, is all. That’s what this time of year is for. Both you and Wayne deserve it.”
Eddie allowed himself to shed one more tear before he buried his face under your chin, pressing his nose against your collar bone. “I love you so much. I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his ear. “Both of you deserve this.”
You could feel his tears slide down your skin, and you held him tightly close, knowing Wayne was outside probably close to freezing to death. When you heard his sniffled stop, you peaked down at him with a smile. “Should we go check on your uncle? He’s probably an ice block by now.”
Eddie chuckled and sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his tears. “Yeah, let’s go check on the old man.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#soft eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson imagines#eddie stranger things#eddie blurb#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x you#christmas eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things season four#joseph quinn#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson headcanons
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧? || 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: -
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You have loved Luke Castellan your whole life, but you two never seem to be going anywhere. So you start dating somebody else…
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: show!Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Underage drinking mentioned, jealous!Luke
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Song lyrics, fluff, making-out
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k
𝐀/𝐍: Had to write about a musical Apollo kid, and the lyrics of ‘4am’ by Cherry Ghost are just too precious !! Go have a listen !! Also, a lot of this will be inaccurate because I’ve only read a couple of PJO books (:
“It'll get you on the last bus home
'Get you at the discount bend
It'll get you on the old dancefloor
'Get you when the party ends”
Everyone is born with a gift. It doesn't have to be magical, although that does seem to be quite common at Camp as well.
No, what you mean is that some people are just really good at downhill skiing. There are those who can solve complex equations in their head. Others can whip up a new recipe with ease on their first attempt.
For you, your music had a way of seeping into the soul of anyone who heard it. That's your gift.
"Oh 4am, is the time when you were mine
Frozen in deepest sleep, for only I to keep
Now there ain't a hiding place on earth
Where loneliness ain't been first"
Today, you've decided on a lyre as your musical accomplice. You sit on a patch of grassy earth, sandwiched between two rows of strawberries. You're just making up random words, plucking absent-mindedly.
But when you sing, the sound tends to carry. People far off seem to stop in their tracks for a moment. Faces around you can't help but turn. The clouds float away for a while to bathe you in sunlight.
"It'll get you hanging out your clothes
‘Get you when you wash your hair
It'll get you as you're making plans
Catch you trying to climb the stairs"
Next to you, your friend Marshall—a son of Demeter—tends to a patch of blight-stricken plants. You can't see the way his eyes watch you, enamoured. Without you noticing, the boy fills a basket for you with all the sweetest strawberries he finds.
In the distance, a boy with ebony curls effortlessly strikes at a practice dummy. His strokes are calculated and fluid, resembling a painter wielding a brush on a canvas rather than a sword.
When your voice drifts through the air, it pierces through him. With gooseflesh skin, Luke sheathes his sword and turns to look around for you. His seeking gaze locks onto you, a golden spot in amongst the strawberry fields. Your eyes are shut, your skin drinking in the sunlight. Luke's heart flutters and he feels a pull towards you, like a moth drawn to a flame.
As he approaches, a flash of disgruntlement ripples through him at the way Marshall is staring. Marshall also notices Luke and straightens up as he approaches, eyes wary. But Luke shrugs it off. Some boy from '4 means nothing to him.
"Hey, Sunbeam," Luke grins.
You open your eyes, startled by his sudden presence. Your fingers freeze on the strings of your lyre as you take him in—slightly sweaty from training, black hair falling into his eyes, a smirk adorning his lips. A gentle shiver rolls through you.
"Hey," you reply, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Enjoy the show?"
Luke plunks down. He sprawls out leisurely on the grass beside you, propped up by an elbow. "Wasn't too shabby," he smirks, popping a strawberry from Marshall's gift basket in his mouth.
Marshall scowls, watching the exchange with a prickle of unease. You don't notice, of course, too busy trying not to stare at Luke.
Luke's been your best friend since you both arrived at Camp Half-blood five years ago. He's always been there for you, through thick and thin. But that's why you hide your feelings towards him. The way your heart races when he's near, the butterflies that flutter in your stomach whenever he smiles at you—those feelings are dangerous. They hold the power to ruin your friendship.
As the gorgeous boy lounges in the grass, you find yourself studying the scar that runs from his temple to his cheek. Your fingers itch to trace its path, but you resist. You wonder if other girls have already traced it before you.
Despite your reservations, you often find yourself wondering if he smiles at you differently than them. If he does seek you out like you imagine he does. If he craves your touch like you do his.
Luke himself wishes you weren't so oblivious to his affection. He lets his eyes linger just a little too long, hoping that maybe one day you'd get the hint.
Of course Luke sees you staring. "We ought to do some training, Sunbeam," he remarks, prying the instrument from your hands.
"Gotta prepare for capture the flag tomorrow." He shoots a petulant glance at the Demeter boy, a silent jab that reminds him that you are on Hermes' team.
Luke hauls you up, leading you off towards the Arena. You protest but follow him regardless, as you too are excited about the game tomorrow. After all, you are known as the best archer at camp; your skill with a bow and arrow rivals that of Artemis' Hunters themselves.
Slightly behind you Luke snatches up the basket of fruit. "Thanks, '4," he dismisses, eyes distractedly trained on you.
Marshall glowers. "They weren't for you, Castellan," he retorts bitterly under his breath.
Luke pauses, pulling his gaze away from your retreating figure. "Hm?"
Marshall's scowl deepens, but he knows better than to argue with the Counselor. Instead, he turns his attention back to his plants, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy that Luke managed to steal you away.
You and Luke are slinking through the undergrowth. Ahead, two Aphrodite girls guard the large red flag. Terrible strategy, you think smugly. The Hermes boy grins at you, and you draw back your arrow.
Luke steps out, sword brandished, ready to knock past the girls to grab the flag while you wait behind a tree. But instead of fighting back, one of the girls just smiles coquettishly.
"Luke!" She coos, stepping over and clasping his bicep, taking him by surprise. "Me and Allegra were just talking about you."
The girl is gorgeous. All intoxicating green eyes and flowing bronze hair, her voice like silk. Luke's eyes widen, his cheeks flushing slightly. You watch, hidden behind the tree, and your heart sinks.
"Shouldn't you be guarding that flag?" Luke questions, one brow raised. He's probably used to this, you think bitterly. Luke Castellan, Head Councilor, brave and responsible and breathtaking with a sword, could have any girl he wanted.
Not some random Apollo girl.
The other girl, Allegra, steps closer to him. "We were wondering if you'd be interested in joining us for a little post-game celebration," she purrs, running a finger down his other arm.
You feel a surge of jealousy rising within you. This isn't supposed to happen. Luke is supposed to be focused on the game.
"Y/N," a voice hisses behind you. You whip around, arrow is immediately pointed at the boy's heart. You relax when you see it's just Marshall. You don't drop your weapon, though. He's still on the opposite team after all.
"No, stop, I'm not trying to fight you," he whispers, pushing down the arrow's point with a cautious finger. You raise your brows.
"Don't you care about winning?" You ask skeptically. Marshall smiles, stepping closer. He's so close now, and your breath catches. His hand cups your chin.
"No, not right now. I just need to ask you something." He breathes.
Back over by the flag, Luke glances subtly over in your direction, as if seeking some kind of guidance or approval. But instead, Luke is met with the sight of that blasted Demeter friend of yours kissing you against the tree he left you behind.
Luke's stomach plummets. His mind races, grappling with a storm of emotions—disappointment, jealousy, and anguish. He had always thought that just maybe, one day, you would reciprocate the affection he holds for you.
But it’s not going to happen now, that’s evident. He feels a hollow pit growing in his stomach, as if all the food he’s ever eaten has been taken away. Hunger like he’d never experienced before.
He wants to walk over there and tear that boy from your lips, throw him to the ground and lead you away. But he can’t, instead, he can only watch as you choose another.
"Excuse me," Luke growls, extracting himself from the Aphrodite girl's grasp. The two girls look disappointed to lose the handsome boy, but shrug and ignore him as he takes the flag and storms off to the Zephyros Creek to finish the game.
Back in the embrace, you feel yourself kissing Marshall back. His hands trail down your arms as he deepens the kiss.
"Will you go out with me, Sunbeam?" Marshall says, breaking away. Your gut tightens at the nickname, something so sweet sounding from Luke's lips sounds harsh from Marshall's.
You swallow. Why shouldn't you date Marshall? He's kind and caring and everything you want in a boyfriend. And Luke...
Luke isn't interested, you snap at yourself. Why should you deny yourself a relationship because of a childish crush?
So you find yourself nodding, pressing another kiss to Marshall's lips.
Luke watches with narrowed eyes as Marshall snakes an arm around your waist at the Demeter table. It's forbidden to sit at another cabin's table, but you had snuck over to sit with him. Something you only used to do for Luke.
"Dude, just go talk to her," one of Luke's half-brothers says impatiently. Luke turns back to face the table, shooting a glare at the boy.
That doesn't stop the boy. "Honestly, Castellan, you've been ignoring her for weeks. How is she going to know you're an option if you don’t communicate?"
"I'm fine," Luke grunts. "I'm happy for her." Despite his words, an unconvincing degree of bitterness laces his tone.
The unclaimed camper Luke had been showing around that day frowned from his seat beside him. "Are you? You seem to be staring an awful lot."
Luke's glare is directed at him now. "You don't know what you're talking about, kid."
The blond boy stares. "Don't I? You obviously like her."
Luke frowns, unwilling to talk about his nonexistent love life to a 12-year-old. Ultimately, he shrugs and turns back to his dinner. "It doesn't matter. She has a boyfriend."
"Yeah? So?"
"She's happy, I'm not going to be the one who ruins that for her." I care too much to do that, Luke thinks to himself.
"Happy?" Percy asks, cocking an eyebrow. "Is she? Is she really?"
Luke glances over again, your body pulled into Marshall's side. He must've just told a joke because everyone's laughing. So are you, that sweet look on your face that Luke craves to see above all else.
The familiar flutter that usually accompanies the sight of you now morphs into a sickening twist of jealousy. It takes all Luke has to not punch the boy simply for smiling at you.
But Percy may be right. If he looks closer, you don't seem to be leaning into him, instead shifting restlessly under Marshall's grip.
Hope flares in his chest, and he quickly quashes it with a stab of guilt. Who is he to relish in your discontent? He has no stake over you, you are free to be with who you want! As your best friend, he really should be prioritizing your happiness. Not a pathetic rivalry.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Luke repeats with a grumble.
"Gods, Y/N, I don't know how much longer I can watch this," Annabeth groans, tilting her head up to look at you. "It's actually painful."
The two of you are sitting underneath a wide-brimmed tree, you perched on a raised root clutching your cello, she's lying on the grass at your feet.
You pull your bow away from the strings from where they were previously composing a mournful tune on your instrument-of-the-day. "What?" You pout. Annabeth rolls her eyes.
"All the sad songs and the pining."
Your eyes stretch wide. "Pining? Annabeth Chase, what are you talking about?"
Annabeth rolls her eyes, sitting up and turning to face you. "Oh, come on. It's obvious. Every time Luke is around you stare at him like a puppy at the pound, begging for attention!"
You flush red.
"Not that you didn't do that before," Annabeth continues. "But it's worse now. Do you even like that boyfriend of yours?"
"Yes!" You protest, but the pause of hesitation before it ruins the effect. Annabeth's lips curve into a smile.
"Look. The boys from Hermes'—no, not Luke—asked me to ask you to sing at the bonfire tonight," she says, standing up and tying her braids back into a low ponytail. "I'm going training. I'll see you later."
"You're probably just going to stalk that boy you like!" You shout after the girl defensively as she saunters off.
"Break up with your boyfriend!" Is all she calls back.
You sigh, leaning back into the tree. Above you, a family of songbirds belt out a tune. You listen to their notes and begin to hum a tune that harmonizes perfectly with their song. The birds pick up on this, and begin tweeting little riffs and chirping with delight when you replicate it. You've always had an affinity for music and tone, always knowing what a song needs or doesn't need.
And right now, your song doesn't need a gardener. It needs a black-haired son of Hermes.
Luke sips from his cup as an Ares girl hangs off his arm, feeding him marshmallows off her skewer. He's trying desperately not to meet your gaze through the campfire, but it's so difficult when he feels your e/c eyes trained on him.
"Angel! Sing us a song!" A Hermes boy calls over to you, voice slurred. Luke wonders if he's put something in his drink.
"Yeah! Sing us a song!" Someone else cheers.
The campers around the campfire are chanting now, begging you to play them something. Luke can't help himself, eyes flickering over to you.
Lucky for him, you're too preoccupied with laughing nervously, reaching behind you to fish out the guitar you brought along. "Okay, okay! Hush or you won't hear me!"
The tipsy campers fall silent, watching as you start strumming. Luke feels his breath still, eyes hungrily drinking you in now that there's no chance of your gaze meeting his. You tend to close your eyes when playing music.
"Oh 4am, is the time when you were mine
Frozen in deepest sleep, watching the morning creep"
The spot beside you absent of Marshall doesn't escape Luke's notice. But he honestly couldn't care less about the boy at this moment. He’s too busy imagining you’re singing this song for him, not your boyfriend.
"Now there ain't a hiding place on earth
Where loneliness ain't been first"
Your voice carries over the crackling fire, filling the night air. Luke can't help but feel bad for your brothers and sisters when your father has blessed you with such an incomparable gift.
"Hard times, hole in my heart
Who stole the sun and left me alone again?"
For Luke, everything else fades away—the whoops of the campers, the warmth of the fire— all that remains is you. The parts of your face the firelight licks, the curve of your lips when you sing, the way your arms cradle the instrument.
"Give me a guiding light,
Stretch of sky and the hand on my shoulder.”
“Man, she’s good.” Luke hears the Hermes boy from before say to his mate. “Good thing she’s single now. Might ask ‘er out!” The boy laughs drunkenly.
Single? Luke freezes, mind racing. She broke up with Marshall? Hope, long extinguished, flickers back to life in his chest. He studies you through the flames, wondering now who this song is for.
“Singin' hard times, hole in my heart
Who stole the sun and left me alone again?"
You probably could've kept going, but you open your eyes and have the breath beaten out of you by the intent gaze you are met with.
The campers around the fire erupt into applause, yet all that you can focus on is the way Luke is looking at you, his melted chocolate eyes filled with a mixture of longing and... desire.
You know that's what it is because that's all you've felt for the last 5 years when you're with him. Alongside this revelation, you're frightened by the familiarity in his eyes.
Has he always looked at you like that?
A nervous flush paints your cheeks as you finally tear your gaze away from him. "Um, thank you," you managed to mumble to your friends, setting your guitar aside with trembling hands.
You've been planning what to say to him all evening, but your mind goes blank when you see Luke on his feet, making his way towards you.
The butterflies in your stomach threaten to fly up your throat as he gently takes your wrist, pulling you to your feet and leading you off to the lake without a word.
'Ooohs' and 'ahhhs' follow you, but you're struggling to think clearly enough to care. Your mind is swimming, the way Luke holds your arm, that determined look he has in his eyes making your stomach do flips.
He lets you go when you reach the treeline in front of the lake, the sound of waves lapping at the shoreline bridging the endless silence between you.
“Y/N,” Luke begins, reaching you for your hands. Tears spring into your eyes, and you shake your head, pulling your hands away.
“Don’t call me that,” you sniff. “You never call me that.”
Luke’s serious expression melts into a sad smile, reaching up to cup your face instead. “Sunbeam.”
You don’t pull away now, instead leaning into his palms and staring up at him. Luke's jaw works as he skims his thumbs over your face, brow furrowed. “Is it true?” He asks after a while.
“What?” You breathe, scared to disrupt the moment.
“About Marshall,” he asks, eyes searching yours. “That it’s over?”
You don’t know what possesses you, but you bring your hands up to rest on his chest.
“Yes,” you whisper. Beneath your palms, you feel Luke’s heart skip a beat. “It’s over.”
“We can’t let this happen again.” he hums, his thumbs now resting achingly close to your lips. “I thought— I thought that hiding this would preserve our friendship, but it only forced me away from you.”
Your hands subtly run up to his neck. “This?” you murmur.
Luke nods. "This," he confirms, thumbs now teasing your lips open ever so slightly, as if waiting for your say-so.
In response, your fingers curl around his collar, pulling him down to meet your lips. For the first few seconds, it’s sweet and slow. But when one of Luke’s hands wraps around your waist and pulls you in flush with him, a gentle shudder goes through you. Confident now, Luke’s mouth becomes fervent and half-starved.
His hands tug you in the right way to make you melt, and his palms guide your face into him at the right times. He kisses you deliberately, knowing exactly what to do. All doubt of his desires is erased from your mind— he’s been imagining this for years.
“Strategic even off the battlefield, Castellan,” you pant in the brief moment your lips are apart before the boy pulls you back up to him again. You feel him smile at your words, and he pushes you back gently until your back presses up against a tree. Your hands curl into his hair tightly when his lips leave yours and begin trailing kisses down your face before settling under your jaw, teeth grazing skin. You feel a noise escape your lips.
Luke smirks up at you. “Singing even off the stage, L/N.”
You flush red, but Luke doesn’t allow you to be embarrassed for long, pressing his lips back on yours. He grabs fistfuls of your hair as you kiss him, leaning hard into eachother.
Eventually, you both pull away, both of your eyes dilated and sparkling.
“I’m in love with you,” Luke confesses, cautious eyes staring down at you. “Definitely.”
“Me too,” you say, arms tight around his neck. “I always have.”
He frowns, fingers never stationary; tracing every feature and dot on your face. “Always? Are you serious?”
You smirk. “Yeah, idiot. I just didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t feel the same.”
Luke winces, shutting his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. “Fuck’s sake,” he groans. You giggle.
“We’re both idiots, then?” You snort. Luke grimaces.
“Yes, Sunbeam. Idiots. Two massive idiots.”
© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work
#ph☆ebe's scribbles#percy jackson fic#one shot#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan#luke castellan x y/n#fanfiction#fanfic
613 notes
·
View notes
Text
the lakes - m. murdock
a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated!
warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly
word count: 3.0k
summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does.
pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader
now playing: the lakes - taylor swift
"take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."
“Are you deaf?”
“What?”
You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.
You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.
“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”
You feel your face flush.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”
Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.
“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”
You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.
Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.
She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.
At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.
At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.
Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.
You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.
You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.
You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.
You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.
With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.
And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.
...
If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.
You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.
You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.
You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.
Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.
You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.
You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.
But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.
He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.
He takes off his helmet.
“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.
He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.
“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.
You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.
When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.
He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.
“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”
“You’re deaf.”
“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”
“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”
“I was scared too..”
“When did you start losing your hearing?”
“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.
“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.
“No problem.”
“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”
“You can hear my hearing aids?”
“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”
Your face flushes.
“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”
“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.
“I just don’t want them to bother you.”
“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”
You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.
You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.
• • •
A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.
But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.
Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.
Except for this one day.
You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.
You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.
When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.
“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.
You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.
‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’
‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”
“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”
“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”
“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”
You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.
So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.
You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.
You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.
You must not have them in.
So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.
Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.
After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.
“Forgot your hearing aids?”
“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”
“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”
“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”
He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.
The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.
“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.
You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.
“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.
That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.
God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.
“Okay…”
You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.
“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.
You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.
“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.
“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.
You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.
His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.
“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.
L-O-V-E.
S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T
He traces your name, his, and your last names.
You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.
You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.
You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.
Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.
You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.
For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.
For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.
For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.
#matt murdock#matt murdock fic#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#matt murodock hurt/comfort#matt murdock angst#matt murdock imagine#daredevil fic#daredevil x reader#daredevil fanfiction#hoh!reader#hard of hearing!reader#deaf!reader#self indulgent
780 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fade Into You
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: you fell first, but clarisse fell harder. requested by anonymous!
a/n: decided to feed y’all today….. two fics i’m a monster that just creates and creates. this was so funny bc i kept accidentally writing angst and i had to stop myself. they’re allowed to have crushes on each other. it’s ok. this was hard anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Fade Into You - Mazzy Star
warnings: just so cutesy, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood and injury, soft clarisse i looooovvvvveeeeee you, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Your chest heaves. You’ve never ran that fast or that far before in your life. Your satyr protector runs ahead to get the healers, and you crash against some random building- a tool shed, maybe?
You groan, crouching down to clutch at your lower leg sporting a large gash running blood. You don’t remember how it happened. Maybe it was when you fell? You could have sliced it open on an unfortunately sharp stick.
You don’t even want to think about the fact that the stupid monster thing chasing you could have gotten close enough to claw at you.
“Hey, hey,” someone says, crouching down next to you. She’s wearing an orange shirt. Her hair is curly, her eyes are pretty and brown, and oxygen isn’t getting to your brain so she kind of seems like an angel. “Oh, wow,” she mutters, looking at your leg. “One second, ‘kay?”
“Wait,” you say, grabbing onto her forearm. She looks up at you.
“I’m going two steps away, dummy.” She laughs, and you’ll remember that sound for the rest of your life.
She leaves you, and you almost want to cry because you feel so alone. You’ve just been told you’re a demigod, then you were forced to run through the woods, your heart is still hammering and your leg fucking burns.
But she was right. It was only two steps, and she comes back, the door of what must be some sort of storage shutting behind her.
She leans back down and presses a towel against your gash.
You hiss.
“Sorry,”
“You’re not.” She laughs again. More beautiful music in your ears.
“I’m not,” she agrees.
You fall into silence, it’s so dark out, but you can see everything about her so clearly.
“You can stop breathing so heavily,” she whispers, the shouting of your satyr protector getting closer, along with what must be the healers. “Camp Half-Blood is surrounded by a magical barrier. You’re safe here. Well, at least, no monsters are gonna get you.
“O-okay,” you mumble. You aren’t sure if you believe her. You don’t think you believe anything anymore.
The healers push her away, you’re so so tired, and she stands up, dusting off her hands.
“Thank you, Clarisse,” one of the healers says. “We’ll take it from here.”
Clarisse.
—-
The purpose of Clarisse La Rue’s entire existence seems to be to drive you insane.
The way her arms flex when she wields her spear, the way she lifts her shirt up to dab at sweat on her brow; and the way you can see her toned stomach and the faintest hint of abs you would actually kill to touch. The way she smiles, even though it’s never really genuine, and the way she laughs when she’s making fun of someone.
She was the first person you met at camp, and you’re pretty sure she doesn’t even remember it, yet alone know your name.
It was ironic, as the daughter of Aphrodite, to be quietly pining over someone from the distance. And it sucked, but maybe you would just always have this quiet crush on Clarisse, and you learned to take it like you took your breakfast.
Until the start of this summer, when everyone came back to camp, it was alive again, and it all changed. And now you’re fucked.
—-
You smile, watching a few of the younger campers scream about how amazing the lake is. Summer’s just started. It’s so beautiful this time of year. They didn’t have as traumatic experiences as you, no monsters chased them right up to the barrier of camp. The lake is huge and so blue it seems otherworldly- probably because it is.
You slam into something.
It’s an awkward flare of limbs and muttered obscenities, but you manage to keep yourself upright by falling back into a very convenient tree.
“Sorry,” you say, looking up and expecting to make eye contact with anyone but her.
You haven’t been face to face with Clarisse in four years. You mouth snaps shut, and you’re sure you look like a terrified deer in headlights.
She’s frozen just like you.
“W-watch where you’re going,” she hisses, pushing you farther into the tree as she walks past you.
Did Clarisse just stutter?
—-
Clarisse stares at you.
You blush like you’re about to turn into a flamingo.
The cycle repeats.
—-
This year, the Ares and Aphrodite cabins were paired together to share the field for sword practice just before dinner. The sun is hidden by the trees, providing some nice shade as you frown at all the Ares kids sparring like their lives depend on it.
While Aphrodite kids are not the most naturally skilled in fighting, you’re still demigods, and you still have to know how to protect yourselves.
Matty, a Ares child and your sister Tyla’s boyfriend, already sparred three times, winning against his siblings, then sparred with Tyla once; which just ended with her getting bored after a minute and dropping her sword before jumping into his arms.
You watch random people spar. Everyone moves around you, Tyla and Matty are on top of each other next to you on the bench, everyone walks around you to collect their water bottles from the table behind you.
“Aren’t you gonna spar, Y/N?” Tyla asks, fiddling with Matty’s hands.
“No,” you laugh.
“That’s against the rules.”
You know that voice, you hear that annoyingly angelic voice in your dreams.
Clarisse sits down next to you. You can hear Tyla smiling. Only a few of your siblings who can be trusted to keep a secret know about your wretched crush. You’re probably blushing.
“Uh, what?” you say, looking in her direction but not risking actually looking at her.
“You have to spar,” she says, like it’s painfully obvious, kicking out her legs.
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” you shrug.
“Sounds like you’re scared, Y/N,” Matty muses.
You shoot him a bored look. “Sounds like you’re whipped, Matty.”
Tyla is currently in Matty’s lap, her hands in his hair.
“Oh, definitely,” he says, turning towards Tyla with a sweet smile on his face and she coos and immediately attaches her face to his.
“Oh, Gods,” you mutter, turning away from the two of them having borderline sex on the bench.
Clarisse laughs.
You clench your fist, you feel like you’re gonna explode being so close to her and not able to climb up into her lap and kiss her like a woman starved.
“You still have to spar, you know.”
“Are you going to tell on me?”
“Hm, no. I won’t have to.”
You finally look towards her, if only because you’re confused, but she’s looking straight out at the the distance, where a certain centaur is making his way to the fields-
“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, immediately jumping up and scrambling for a sword from the pile behind you.
You turn around, hoping one of your siblings is free so you can spar with them-
The sword is ripped out of your hands.
“That one sucks,” Clarisse says, simply, while you stand there with your mouth open. She rifles through the swords. “Use this one instead.”
The one she hands you does seem a lot easier to hold. Not too heavy, not too light.
How the hell could she tell which one is best for you just by looking at you?
“Matty,” Clarisse says. “Chiron’s coming.”
Tyla and Matty both hop up, giggling at they make their way towards one of the marked circles.
As you’re left there with Clarisse, it suddenly hits you that after four years of simple indifference, she’s talking to you like she knows you. Or like she wants to know you.
You like her too much to question it. You want her too much to be bothered as to why she’s giving you five minutes of her time.
Clarisse walks away. You thought it was going to happen, so your heart feels this sort of heavy that is indescribable, but she turns around.
“Are you coming?” she asks, deadpan.
“Oh. Uh, yeah,” you say, sticking your sword under your arm and cracking your knuckles. With Chiron showing up, she leads you to the marked circle all the way at the edge of the field, the start of the woods, the very last one.
She stops and turns around, this sort of nonchalant but smug look on her face. She reaches forward and bats your hands away from each other with a single swat that leaves you so shocked from the feeling of her skin on hers that your hands fall to your sides.
“Stop that. You’ll hurt ‘em.”
Here, right in front of the trees, the sun shining through the gaps shines off of Clarisse’s tan skin and her bronze armor in a way that makes her look otherworldly.
Clarisse’s that kind of pretty where you just never want to stop staring at her. The kind of pretty where you just want to fade into her and be next to her; the kind of pretty where nothing compares to her but it just watches her too.
Like the sun behind her, it isn’t jealous, it just admires her and shines off her skin.
She’s smirking at you, her knees bending into an offensive position, her spear pointing at you.
“He’s watching,” she taunts, and you’re really not in the mood for a lecture and the loss of dessert privileges, so you copy her.
“I’m not the best-”
She spins forward, spear arcing toward you. You yelp, raising your sword up to block her spear. They slam together.
“You’ll do fine,” she smiles, so smug in a way that makes you want to slap her and kiss her all at once.
“Whatever,” you mumble as she pulls back.
But you feel a little more confident with her praise, launching a surprise attack. She seems a little shocked, but she blocks it, probably a bit closer than normal.
“Feisty,” she murmurs.
“What the hell does that even mean?”
She launches her own attack, more force behind it this time, and it’s harder to stop her, but you do, you push her back.
“It means you’re exactly like I thought you were.”
You frown, because what is she even saying, but she launches another attack, smiling brightly as you block it, her eyes never leaving your form.
It’s a blurry of your heartbeat in your ears, her smile, the clash of her spear and your sword, the rest of the field coming to life with the sound of metal on metal, wins and losses.
Your arm is growing heavy.
But you keep your eyes open, blocking her attacks and waiting for an opening you’re not sure will ever come.
Finally, she reveals her side, and you swing, your sword clanging as it hits her metal armor.
She looks down at your sword and then you.
When she looks up again, it’s never the same.
—-
“Did you let me win that first day?”
You’re in the woods with her, so many months after that first day, and it all still feels like it was yesterday. You’re laying on a blanket on the soft grass, facing each other, limbs tangled together and her arm around you.
“Hm?” she says, slightly sleepy.
“When we sparred?”
“Oh,” she smiles, yawns. “Yeah, I let you win.”
You gasp and hit her arm.
“Clar, that’s, like, horrible. Our relationship was built on lies.”
You’re the only person allowed to call her that.
She frowns. “It wasn’t. What are you talking about?”
“I was gloating over you for months, and you let me-”
“Okay, but, you still won. I just helped you a bit. That’s what a good girlfriend should do.”
“You were not my girlfriend then.”
“Yeah, but you wanted me to be. For how long? Four years?”
You roll yours eyes. “You bumped into me once and then became obsessed with me.”
She smiles against you as she kisses your forehead.
“Who wouldn’t?” she snorts. “Not my fault you bumped into me in a way no one else ever has, angel.”
“My love language is just bumping into people, I think.”
“Then you can’t bump into anybody but me. Or else I’d kill them, probably.”
“A true romantic.”
She wraps her arms around you, muscles flexing as she pulls you on top of her.
“Only for you, angel,” she says, eyes falling closed again. “‘M cold, be my blanket.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be all rough and tough?”
“Can’t be with you,” she yawns. “Love you too much. Now shush. I’m gonna fall asleep.”
“You big baby,” you mumble. “Big bad Clarisse needs to fall asleep with her girlfriend and get her full eight hours or else she’ll go on a rampage.”
“Damn right.”
Clarisse is the type of pretty that just makes you wanna fade into her. And you do, in the light of the rising moon, the light of the fading sun. You fade into her.
—-
y/n when clarisse helps her on her first day: wow, an angel 😍😍
clarisse when y/n bumps into her: wow, an angel 😍😍
ALSO CLARISSE CALLING Y/N ANGEL???? I THINK I’VE FOUND MY NEW OBSESSION Y’ALL
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
991 notes
·
View notes
Note
Jude’s definitely the type to call his girlfriend “bro”
bro - jb
ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist
ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist
ೃ⁀➷ masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
If you knew one thing about your boyfriend, it was the fact that his competitiveness made him forget about a lot of things.
It didnʼt matter if you were his best friend, his favorite teammate or his girlfriend. He was there to win, and God help any person that fucks up his chances to do so.
Right now, you were kinda messing up. But it wasnʼt entirely your fault. He was the one that practically forced you to play Fifa with him despite the fact that youʼd only touched a PlayStation two times in your whole life. Saying that you were bad at it was an understatement.
He didnʼt seem to understand it, though.
“Bro! Cʼmon, youʼre killing me.” He rested his head on your shoulder for a moment, huffing. “I taught you how to dribble! Didnʼt I?”
You gave him an unimpressed look, still holding the controller like it was an alien object. You could hear Gioʼs giggles and Karimʼs muffled laugh next to you.
“Oh! Iʼm sorry, mate. I totally got that explanation that took you one minute and zero patience.” You said jokingly, directing your eyes to the little player that the guys gave you to play… Which was Jude himself. “I thought I was doing it correctly.”
“Hey! Donʼt call me that.” He frowned. “Iʼm babe for you, not mate.”
“Why? Thatʼs not fair!” You laughed, slightly shaking your head. “You call me bro all the time!”
“Thatʼs different! Right, guys?” He looked at his friends for support. You looked at them as well, impressed when they nodded right away. “You know I donʼt really mean it. Youʼre not my bro! But itʼs different if my girlfriend calls me that or mate.”
“Right.” Was all you said, rolling your eyes. “That doesnʼt make any sense, boys.” You got up, leaving the controller behind. “I want to eat something, so no more Fifa for me.”
There was a round of “awwws” and “noooo” coming from them, which made you smile while you made your way to the kitchen.
“Can you get me a cup of apple juice?” Jude shouted after a few seconds.
“No way, fam. Iʼm minding my business over here.” You shouted back before biting into a cookie.
“Stop that!” He laughed from the distance, making your smile wider.
Gio and Karim joined in the laughter, starting to tease Jude. You looked at them from the little window of the kitchen, feeling grateful for having friends like them and such an extraordinary boyfriend like Jude.
“Stop fighting, boys! Iʼm bringing juice for everyone!”
This time you heard a long round of “Yaaay” that almost made you spit said juice.
What a group of dummies.
They were the best.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE'S TAGLIST
@mentalbaddie | @taintedstranger | @mrs-dasilvasantoss | @mbapbaesluvr | @roses-arerosies | @cinderellawithashoe | @yoitsmo07 | @seajjin | @kakuchosbff | @peterparkerbae | @alwaysclassyeagle | @itsjuspenny-blog | @lbsmainblog | @youngjayla | @freetimemachinequeen | @chaeryeongstuff | @lazyreadergirl | @trentismine | @ironmaiden1313 | @wavessmile | @jul1ettt | @daydream-er | @citrusjunosart | @pierre-gasssllyy | @avianawrites | @topguncultleader | @blahhhhhbleeplop | @ricsaigasalec
#footballer blurb#jude bellingham#footballer fanfiction#footballer fics#jude bellingham imagine#footballer fic#footballfics#jude#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham blurb#jb22
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
studying for dummies
- fushiguro megumi x reader
you have an important exam coming up and are having a hard time to study. luckily, your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better
genre/warnings:
college au, total fluff !!!
notes:
i love writing college aus for megumi bc he never got the chance to in that cursed manga called jjk :') to the nonnie who asked for this, i knew i have to write it when i received your ask ehe <3
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
"Why is this so hard..."
Megumi turned to you, sliding his headphones off with a questioning look when he heard you sigh once again, plopping your head down on the textbook. "What if I don't make it? What if I have to repeat a year? Ugh..."
Megumi continued to stare at you, with a flat expression. "So long as you study, you'll pass."
You threw him a sullen look, irked. "I know that! But studying itself is hard!"
The graduation exam was fast approaching and everyone in your grade was losing their head for a reason. Well, not your boyfriend though. While you were busy cramming your poor brain with ethics and physics in his apartment, Megumi was leisurely stuffing his ears with his headphones and catching up to the latest chapter of his favorite manga, without any care of the impending doom.
"You have to take breaks," he scolded then, truly meaning well. "You can't go on without food or rest. And don't overthink it, I'm sure you'll—"
"That's easy for you to say, Megumi—you're a natural genius," you interjected, crestfallen. The stress of failing several tryouts just got to you before you realized it. "Unlike you, I'm a dummy. I have to actually study."
Megumi remained quiet, watching as you turned back to your textbook, determined to give it another shot. Seeing your discouraged expression, something in his heart softened slightly.
And in that moment, he knew what he had to do to lift your spirits up.
He walked over to the little kitchen in his apartment to whip you some lunch, and throughout it all, you were still fixated on your studies, occasionally talking to yourself.
"Can Yuji even solve this problem...? I can take being called dumb but surely I can't be worse than him!"
Megumi found it amusing that you used his best friend as your benchmark for passing. Your way of expressing it brought out a low chuckle from him. How adorable.
Many were wondering what made him to date you—Fushiguro Megumi was always on the top of his class, stoic and indifferent, while you were just... you, a go-getter with cheerful personality that made up most of your academic shortcomings.
To Megumi, you were like a ball of sunshine that he didn't know he needed though. And now, wanted to protect.
While you were still lost in your thoughts and tangled up in physics concepts, he came back to you, gently patting your shoulder. "Hey, I made lunch. Want to join me?"
And needless to say, your eyes lit up with literal stars as you whipped your head towards him. "Yeah!"
Seeing you that excited made something inside Megumi soar. He had always been fond of your smiling face. Watching the fatigue melted a bit from you as you sat down in front of him, a subtle smile found its way onto his lips as well.
"Ooh, hotpot! Megumi, thank you!"
"Yeah, yeah..."
"Mmm! This is tasty!"
"Mm-hmm, have your fill."
You were giddy as you finished your lunch. It was evident that he had prepared the hotpot with your preferences in mind, choosing almost all of your favorite ingredients.
And you were feeling daring now that you knew that he was keeping you in his thoughts.
"Megumi, if I can score higher than 70% in that exam..." you started, smile gradually widening. "Can we celebrate it by going on an overnight trip to Kyushu afterwards? You know... just a little something to look forward to..."
Your boyfriend immediately fixed you with his unwavering gaze, even with his cheeks still filled with rice. But he didn't dwell on it long as he nodded lightly. "Sure."
"Really?!" you beamed, totally bursting with excitement. "Eeep! Megumi! You’re the best!"
How could he ever say no to you when your eyes were literally shimmering with glitters? Megumi never had it in him to. And hey, a trip for two to commemorate your graduation sounded so nice too, it was actually making him eager.
And so, with your tummy full and energy recharged, you enthusiastically redid your mock-up exam. And when you got 90% this time, Megumi actually initiated the first move and pulled you into his lap, giving you a light smooch on the cheek.
“Whoa...” you were so ready to tease him, poking his pink-tinted cheeks. “Do I get a kiss for every mock-up exam well done now?”
He huffed—flushing, turning away with slight frown. “To give you something to look forward to, remember?”
#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk drabbles#megumi fushiguro x reader fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader fluff#fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#fushiguro megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi x y/n#jjk#megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro#jjk fluff
878 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eddie finds Steve’s green sweatshirt one day after getting surprise dunked in the pool at Casa Harrington by his own sheep. It’s soft and worn like it was once Steve’s favorite thing to wear but now it lays forgotten at the back of his closet.
Eddie doesn’t think much about it, just picks it up and pulls it on. Its just him and Steve in the kitchen when he gets back. The others are arguing about which movie to put on while Steve heated up dinner for all of them like a dutiful housewife. The thought makes him laugh.
Steve turns around at the sound of his voice. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, just. You pretend to get mad when the kids call you mom but here you are, being all—” He waves his hands about trying to convey his point but Steve is already distracted.
“That sweatshirt,” Steve has a frown on his face, but it’s not exactly a bad one. Eddie wonders when he learned to read Steve like that.
He gives Steve a twirl. “Do I look good in it?” Steve smiles, doesn’t deny it.
“You know, I fought my first demogorgan in it,”
“Woah,” Eddie looks down at it, feeling something akin to wonder when he smooths his palms over the fabric.
“Yeah,”
“God, Harrington,” Eddie looks up grinning. “You gotta keep a priceless artefact like this safe,” Steve rolls his eyes and goes to pull the pizza out of the oven. He’s still smiling though.
Eddie follows, then plants his butt on the counter so he can see Steve’s face. “Is that why you don’t wear it anymore?”
Steve’s cheeks puff out like a chipmunk when he sighs heavily. Eddie has the sudden urge to pinch them.
“Kinda, at first,” He doesn’t look at Eddie when he speaks. “I don’t even know why I kept it, you know? I kinda just wanted to burn every evidence of that night,”
Eddie nods and goes to gather plates for everyone. He should say it. Steve trusted him enough to share, Eddie should too right? He hasn’t said it out loud. Not to Wayne, not to the upside down scientists approved therapist. But he could tell Steve. Steve gets it. And Eddie so badly wants to talk about it, maybe cry a little. Because out of all the things that had happened, this one really breaks his heart.
Eddie startles when a hand softly presses into the small of his back. “You okay there?” Steve has his head tilted to the side to see Eddie better and this time the frown on his face spells worry.
“I can’t play my guitar,” he blurts out. And the words rush out of him all at once. “I can’t do it, I mean I get nightmares and shit, you know. And sometimes my scars hurt so much at night that I can’t even sleep. But this one really takes the cake, like, I pick her up and my heart starts racing and I can’t breath—” It’s happening again. His chest tightens to the point that he struggles to draw in a breath and his vision blurs out as his eyes fill with tears and— oh god he’s going to die in Steve’s kitchen.
“No, Eddie you’re not going to die, I promise,” says a steady voice firm enough that he almost believes it. Then warm hands pull him into an even warmer body. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, listens to Steve telling him how to breath and slowly, after a long while, the knot starts to loosen and breathing comes easier. Steve doesn’t stop running a soothing hand over his back as Eddie sags into him, suddenly winded. His fists are balled into Steve’s shirt like a scared little kid.
“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles when he’s gathered enough energy to start feeling embarrassed at how quickly he fell apart.
“Nothing to be sorry about, I swear, happens to the best of us,”
Eddie snorts, “Okay mom,” Steve swats at his arm. Eddie finally pulls away after a while. “Think I really needed that,”
“Hey, if you want, you can come over and trying playing over here?” Steve shrugs. “Maybe a change of location can help, I’ll even hold your hand through it,”
“How am I supposed to play if you’re holding my hand, dummy,” Eddie snarks, hiding his smile behind his hair. “But I’ll think about your offer,” There’s literally nothing to think about, what was he going to say, no? Steve’s answering look tells Eddie he knows too.
And if Eddie leans into Steve when he put his arm around Eddie in the sofa while sharing a blanket, well that’s his business.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things fanfiction#mine#This is the fastest I’ve ever written anything#ever#this is like a rollercoaster of emotions
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝚙𝚝.𝚜𝚒𝚡 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆
⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡
synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?
warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, spitting, strap-on, hate sex/makeup sex, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.
an: hi everyone, i appreciate you all sooo soo much. happy friday... it's getting real this entire ff is on ao3 as well x
(no y/n)
wc: 3.4k
Abby heard your door close, knowing it was time for you to leave for your flight. She froze as if you didn’t know she was in her living room listening to every move you made on the other side of the wall. Your footsteps traveled to be placed silently in front of her door and halted just as you knocked. “Abigail?”
She concentrated on the purr of your voice vibrating against the wooden door.
“Abby, I’m leaving, um, you probably are sleeping or — I don’t know, anyways, I left you some stuff so you could feel less alone while I’m gone. Um, it’s stuff I think you'd like. I know it’s not going to solve anything but let’s talk soon. Please.”
You wait for the knob to turn, for the door to open and reveal the stubborn woman, anything, but it never happens. On the other side, Abby was standing with her hand on the door frame, absorbing your voice into her consciousness, missing you more than ever. She so badly wanted to open it and hold you, and assure you she was just being stupid, but she wasn’t ready for it.
She waited a few minutes before opening the door to reveal a small tote bag heavy with glass. Abby wrapped her hand around the handle and peered out the door as if she would find you in the hallway, waiting for her. The bag was filled with an assortment of miss-match containers, housing different food items with post-its describing each one. Turkey, Mac and Cheese, Stuffing, Brussels sprouts, and Cranberry Sauce. She traced the delicate intricacies of your handwriting that she had seen many times before, but especially now seemed special. She removed the sticky paper and placed it on her dining table, placing the corresponding container above it.
In the following days Abby received every text message you sent her, she simply didn’t care to read them beyond the notification on her screen. Her anger boiled more and more, irritated at your persistence while simultaneously needing it as reassurance that you still care.
abby, i’m sorry. let’s talk, call me please.
hey, getting on the plane now so i can’t talk for the next two hours.
just landed, i can call soon if that’s what you want.
all ready for bed.
Attached was a photo she felt tempted to look at but didn’t. Her phone rang multiple times throughout the day with your name on the caller ID. She didn’t feel compelled to decline it, she let it ring until the ringtone stopped. She did exactly what she said she was going to do — study. She knew it was the one thing she could wholeheartedly commit to now.
In the middle of studying her phone rang over five times and one notification for a voicemail appeared on the screen. She looked at your name on her phone, held a deep breath in her chest, and listened to a voice softened by tears.
“Abby, hi. Just thinking about you and I know I’m the last person you want to hear from,” You paused. “I want us to talk. I just… I miss you.”
Abby stopped the message and set her study materials aside, quickly pressing play again. “I miss you. I wish we were together right now. I’m going to make this right, I promise. Please, just give me some time.”
Abby brought her fist up to her dripping nose and tightened her mouth into a thin line. The feelings that she had for you were inescapable. Her heart collapsed in her ribcage, smashing against the paper bones that felt like they were cracking as she dabbed the tears floating in her eyes. She went to all the unread messages and saw the photo of you lying in your childhood bedroom with an all-white long john set and a modest smile on your face. Your eyes were puffy, or was she imagining it? She wanted you to break apart like she was. Abby observed your grin, that revealed a more narrow sadness that she could place on her own mouth.
We can talk when you return.
You shuffle down the familiar hallway, bags in hand, trembling with uncertainty you quickly identified as a fear of losing Abby. Your flight left you disheveled and bubbled with anxiety, making you stop in the bathroom before calling an uber, and polishing yourself up. But no time in the bathroom could remove the dark circles under your eyes or take away the sadness you harbored. You were fearful that if you waited a moment longer she’d forget about you — so you held your duffle and carry on, hastily knocking at a door that was once always unlocked for you.
Abby pulled on the handle revealing her pristine appearance. Blonde hair tied into a braid, attached to the middle of her head, cascading down her spine. Her lips were moisturized, plush, pink, and waiting to be kissed. She clasped her hands in one another, arms bulging out of her black tank top clinging to her even skin. As a formality, she gestured for you to sit down as she took your bags effortlessly. After setting them down on the table she joined you on the couch, legs crossed in thick grey sweats.
“I missed you.” You admit, inching closer to her.
“I did too. I missed you too.” She said shyly, slightly shrugging.
You walk your fingers to her knee and rest them there, embarrassed.
“So, I’m sorry Abby—”
“No, all of this is my fault. I was tipsy and out of line, I misconstrued your feelings for me. I shouldn’t have pressured you to just get rid of Ellie. Instead, I should have explained to you how much I really like you. And maybe my inexperience just made me want you even more… Like, I can’t do casual, or I mean I never had the opportunity to. I just… I wanted more with you — I want more with you. I don't wanna share you.” She ropes her pinky into yours.
“My sweet Abby,” You sigh, cupping her jaw. “I should have paid more attention.”
“I think I could have been more clear on what I wanted out of you, y’know out of us.”
“I like you Abby and a part of me likes Ellie too. She’s fun and that was my appeal to her, knowing I didn’t have to get roped into something complex or serious. But I like you…so much, you’re all I could think about when I was away. I’m not used to anyone wanting me this way.”
“I want you. I only want you.” She smiled.
“You do?”
“So much, I want you to be my girlfriend, seriously. Do you want that?”
You freeze at the question, making Abby recede into herself briefly, face dropping into a premature frown.
“I don’t know how good of a girlfriend I could be to you. I don’t want to make you feel how I did that past week.” She leans closer and kisses the backside of your hand.
“That’s inevitable, we will have times where things go the opposite of what we want, that’s okay but we need to be on the same page. Do you want this?”
You feel a rock drop to the bottom of your stomach.
“Abby I don’t know if I can fully say that I want that in this moment. Can I think about it?”
“Of course you can.”
She leaned in, using your thighs for leverage, resting her lips against yours. You melt into her sweet, strawberry-glazed lips, relishing her taste. Being away from her made a week feel like a year and you savored this kiss intending to remember it for later. Your hands come up to her neck and pull her in, pushing your tongue past her teeth and into her mouth, eliciting a moan. It was deep and from her core, exposing how much she missed you. She presses her hand on the back of the couch, the other one behind you on the arm, unfolding her legs and laying on top of you. She lifted her far leg so that it was hanging off the edge of the couch, crotch pressed against the top of your thigh, her body weight crushing you sweetly.
Abby’s hand comes up the side of your ribs making you shutter. Her rough fingertips leave pale imprints on your warm skin. You lift your hips into her core and she moans into your left ear. A sweet blow of air and arousal fills your space causing the parting of your lips to replicate the pleasure. “I missed this.” Her raspy voice rang.
You reach in the band of her sweats and brush her abdomen towards her clit. No panties. Her thighs were damp with sweat, her lips wet with slick and you wasted no time parting them. Abby wrapped a fistful of your hair into her hand and tugged, leaving your mouth agape from the sudden aggression.
“Fuck me.” She demanded.
You feel your pussy clench. Abby's change in demeanor put a bit of fear in you, knowing the woman was strong enough to have her way with you at any moment.
“Come on. Fuck me.”
Her hand unravels from your hair to your jaw to open your mouth. Her lips purse to expel a string of spit which you accept happily. Her lips were sloppy, smacking into yours as she stroked her clit against your fingers, hunching for more contact. You lifted her shirt up to reveal a light pink lace bralette, exposing her erect nipples. You bring your lips to the fabric, and she trembles. She removes the lace top and forces the stiff bud between your teeth, making her wince as you lean back, biting and stretching it. Her pussy left tacky, wet splotches in her pants.
“Let me get my strap.” She said, moving away quickly. You watch her firm ass switch from side to side while she marches to her bedroom. You sit up, mouth wet with desire, not hesitating to remove your bottoms.
The black harness houses a clear dildo that curved upwards, just how Abby liked it, reaching for her g-spot. She handed it over to you to strap on and laid back on the couch. Her eyes became hungry as she saw your perfect body displaying the new appendage. You walk towards her dripping with irrefutable sexual appeal before ripping off her bottoms and beginning to finger her pussy.
“Don’t tease me. I’m already wet.”
You climb on the couch, slipping the curved cock inside, splaying your body weight on top of her. Her skin blushed as she cupped the back of your ass, reaching to bring you closer. Her cunt filled the room with obscene sounds that made yours shake with anticipation.
“Please.” She repeated.
“Please what?” You asked, catching her off guard amid moans.
“Make me cum.”
Abby’s groomed fingernails dragged along the outer rim of your back. She started raising her hips and fucking against you, her grip became deadly, indicating she was close to cumming. Abby loved the sounds of your grunts in her ear, knowing the strap was bruising your clit, making you needy too. Abby’s eyes retreated into her skull but returned quickly to your sightline as you extract the cock from her cunt. The clear plastic became covered with opaque gloss, leaving Abby twitching and kneeling over.
“Fuck you.” She laughed, short-winded.
The strong woman laid on her stomach and began arching her back. Her smooth, florescent skin wrapped around each muscle beautifully. You rub her ass, starting from the midpoint of her back to the underside of her bottom. Abby whimpered at your gentleness only to be startled by an impulsive slap, instantly turning her pink. Your finger hovers over her lips, spreading them open like petals of a soft rose, examining how perfect her pussy is while it’s dripping.
“You really missed me huh?”
“I did. I missed you sooo much.” She whined, completely transforming unsuspectingly submissive. You reach under her and thump her clit with your palm to which she yelps. She stretches like a kitten and curves her back even more. Another slap and she throws her head over the arm of the couch where she begins to reside at.
Without warning you plunge your index and ring finger inside of her making your name spill out of her mouth. You curve your fingers to hook behind her pelvic bone, petting the sweet sponge inside of her. All you could think about was how she embarrassed you, ignored you until the last minute, and left your mind wondering. This motivated you to fuck her even harder, and you started to believe this is what Abby wanted all along.
“I can—can’t take it, ple—” She struggled to form a coherent sentence.
She reached her hand back to stop you from going any deeper. You snatched her thick wrist into your hand and pinned it onto her lower back. You positioned your leg on the cushion and slipped the dildo into her. Abby never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure. The constraints you put on her made her mentally weak, leaving her immobilized. The pain made her numb and left her humming uncontrollably. You weren’t even stroking her pussy but pounding it until the skin impacted by the strap transformed from peach to lilac. Abby’s mouth was wide open, gasping for air as a knot tied itself in her stomach.
“Let—le— l—me, cum, I—”
The blabbering woman stiffened as an orgasm came over her body. But that didn’t stop you from milking her cunt into overdrive. She hoisted herself up on the arm, but you refused to let her run away. Your hands came to her hips and brought her to her breaking point, again. Your name filled her cozy apartment like sweet music. You pull out, leaving her gaping and dripping, leaving a delicious view. Exhausted, you fall back on the other end of the couch. Abby rolls over, legs agape, head thrown back, chest rising and falling quickly. Her cunt was bright red and abused, just like she deserved.
“Satisfied?” You spit.
She lifts her head, hair disheveled, and smiles at you with a sinister grin.
“I didn’t know I could cum that many times,” She admits.
Her eyes darted to the cock still strapped on your hips, covered in her cum. She bent over and placed her head on your thigh, parallel to the dildo. You brush her messy hair out of her face just before she wraps her lips around it and sucks it clean. You didn’t know how attractive it could be to see her in this way, with her eyes locking into yours, moaning at her own actions, making your cunt wetter.
“Let’s have a shower.” She offered.
The water ran warm onto your neck and lower body as Abby’s tongue traced circles into your neck. Her wide hands wrapped around your wet waist, desperate for more of you.
“I missed you even though…” She began to whisper.
“Even though?”
“You pissed me off, and made me emotional.”
She pulls away from your ear and brushes the tip of her nose against your cheek with her tongue following shortly behind, melting into a kiss.
“I know, you’re my needy, emotional girl.”
You slick her drenched hair back and thumb her forehead. Her body comes forward to smash you against the cold tile with a thud. She slides her hand over your belly to your throbbing clit. “For a minute, I actually hated you. I wanted to rip you apart.” She groaned.
“Here’s your opportunity, Abigail.”
Abby wraps your leg around her waist to get a better angle. She hovers her lips over your mouth, teasing you as you close your eyes to lean in for a kiss. She giggles at how ridiculous you look. Then, she presses her teeth into your skin, followed by soothing kisses down to your breast. She puckers her lips around your areola, with her eyes gazing up at you, filled with fury. Just as she’s about to stick her tongue out, her fingers replace her mouth and tug on the puffy buds. You press your back deeper into the tiles as if you could sink into them.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” You wince while her fingers hold onto your pebbled nipples.
“After you sent that photo, you touched yourself didn’t you?” She jerks your nipples.
“Ah—ah, I— I did before I took it.”
“What did you think of?” She asked.
“You, I thought of you,” you replied.
Her tongue slithered out of her mouth to flick your nipple. “Keep going.”
“You… you were kissing me, all… over…”
“Hmmm.” Her lips puckered and suctioned.
“I just. I, Abby,” you moaned.
“If you stop, I stop.”
“You were kissing me w—with my hands tied… tied up,”
She moved to your other breast and sucked, causing your hole to clench around nothingness.
“Abby, I imagined you fucking me until my legs went limp.”
She smiled and brought herself back to your lips, kissing and biting them with no care.
“Even at odds, I’m still on your mind.”
She inserts her fingers into you slowly, stretching you out. You grip onto her shoulders for stability as she begins to pump in and out of you. She spreads her legs to ground herself and thrusts her fingers deeper inside of you, pounding the fat of your pussy, creating a slapping noise in rhythm with the beating shower.
Abby bared her teeth as she increased her speed. She was grunting like she was in the gym doing a challenging set, mumbling words you were too sexually drunk to decipher. The water fizzled into a heavy steam, crashing into your wrinkled skin and creating a thick haze above your head. The humidity left you faint as Abby worked harder to make you cum with no comfort — all in her timing. Suddenly, she let go of the leg she had been hoisting up and wrapped her hand around your throat. Your moans became light and airy as you gasped for relief.
“You’re mine. You know that right?” She declared.
You nodded as you came up on the wave of sexual bliss. Your knees fell together, weakening as the woman continued to cockily spit at you, a side of her you never knew before.
“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. I don’t give a fuck, no one else will ever make you cum like this.”
And that’s what you did, cum, with a deep primal groan accompanying it. She continued to stroke your pussy, until you caught your breath, just before she fell to her knees in the tub to lick up the mess she created. The curve in the bridge of her nose made a unique friction against your sensitive clit while her tongue slid up and down your folds. You turned the water off, and the both of you ran to the bedroom before the cool air caught up to you.
Abby dried her body and hair with a nearby towel and passed one to you. She flopped onto her mattress, with her head wet onto her jersey pillowcase awaiting your body.
“Are you still mad at me?” You ask.
“Nothing a little cuddling could fix. Come ‘ere.��� She said.
You straddled her waist to lay down on her soft, hot body and tucked your mouth into the crook of her neck. Abby placed her hand on the back of your neck and smoothed out your baby hairs there. She adjusted her body underneath you, unintentionally pressing her mound into yours, extracting a slight gasp from your throat.
“You okay?” She asks.
“Yes.” You mutter.
She lifts upwards again, spreading your legs apart and exposing your clit. You look at her sly grin, she mimics you and spreads her legs open as well. You lay down onto her shoulder, breath hitting her neck, and buck your hips into her, your clit being tickled by the blonde’s low-trimmed pussy. You two perform a dance, following an unspoken choreography, pressing your cunts into each other.
“I need you.” Abby moans.
You guide Abby’s knees to her chest and turn so your ass is in her view, straddling her leg, spreading your slits open with your fingers, and placing your cunt onto hers — hot and needy. The wave of your ass brushing against her pussy made her mouth fall open in disbelief. Abby tucks her hands behind her head as she watches you use her pussy like a pillow and hump it freely just as she likes it.
“Fuck, Abby.”
Abby blushed at your words, watching your hips move like water, eyes closed and getting lost in the pleasure.
#abby anderson smut#abby x reader#lesbian#abby anderson x you#sub abby#abby tlou#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson imagine#abby the last of us#abby smut#wlw ns/fw#wlw
345 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
stelenagifs
stelenagifs
nawinb
.𖥔 ݁ ˖
nico bossa nova
theprisonfrog
JE NE SUIS PAS FOLLE VOUS SAVEZ.
jenn-shine
Insomniactive Nerd
krystalkoya
ego ego ego