#i want to stare at her under a microscope | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeanbie · 1 month

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

pairing: jake x reader

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

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

★ ⏤ sequel to fantasize

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here we go,” Norm sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you laugh in reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grace eyeballs you curiously, as does Norm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is quite literally perfect news.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Norm inches closer and takes a massive inhale.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is it even safe?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” she asks.

Jake nods. “My iknimaya is tomorrow morning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yep. The yearning has definitely persisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanna go to your party,” you say.

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

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

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

“Charming…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The lab is silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never a good sign.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you?”

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

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

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

“Takes stupid to know stupid,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you grinning so hard?”

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

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

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

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

“You know what I meant.”

“Forget about him.”

“I like him.”

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

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

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

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

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

“…Sorry. Go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doing what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up,” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You…want me to sit on your face?”

“Clearly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More?” you ask, surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jake, I—”

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

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

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

“You’re begging,” you state flatly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You said just the tip,” you whimper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a dream.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No? When?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s more you than me.”

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

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

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

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

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

You hum vaguely. “Oh, really?”

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

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

Jake pauses. “What do you mean?”

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

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

He blinks dumbly. “Oh yeah.”

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

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

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

“Wait, you want to tell people?”

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

“About us fucking?”

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

“…Are we?”

“I thought you were the smart one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Become his woman by spending more time with you? Easy. Consider it already done. But kill all the fun and tell Norm before he figures it out the hard way? Jake’s lips curl into a scowl at the thought of such a marvellous opportunity going wasted.

“How about…we do all of that and let Norm find out by himself?” Jake suggests. It’s an even trade — you’ll both get what you want, and you’ll both feel scores of satisfaction at the end of it.

When you don’t say anything for a moment, Jake is prepared to sign his defeat and give in, but then, when you grin at him and shrug, he hears the holy gates of Heaven open up in his favour and the angels sing.

Yep. You’re his. He’s yours.

Now he just can’t wait for everyone else to find out about it.

#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

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bananadramaaa · 3 months

Note

obsesseddddd with how u draw alastor and mimzy!! esp smth about how u draw mimzys eyes! she's so beautiful

Aww, thank you so much! I'm flattered ✨ This two live in my head rent-free, I wanna study their friendship under the microscope.

I really like Mimzy's design in the show, but in my interpretation I wanted to give her those "full of sadness" eyes that ladies had in 1920/30s, which also gave creepy stare-right into your soul-vibes in some situations (german expressionism is a great example of that attitude) 😁

#ask #1920-30s fashion is my kryptonite #myart

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spiderlyla · 10 months

Text

Broken Mugs — Miguel O'Hara

🕸summery: miguel is tottally not jealous that all your attention is on the new intern

🕸warnings: mention of injury/blood. reader is fem.

🕸a.n: this was actually a req from my other blog @spider999sposts lol. hope anon likes it!

He shouldn't feel this way.

He shouldn't feel his chest tighten. He shouldn't feel his mind clouding. His claws shouldn't be digging this hard into his palm, leaving small scars on his skin. He shouldn't be staring at you this much either.

A yellow glow popped by his shoulder, hiding from sight of the other scientists. Under regular circumstances, he'd shoo her away before anyone could see her, but he was too fixated on keeping his eyes on you...and him. Why on earth would you even glance twice at his direction was his question. He'd been hired for two weeks now but Miguel never saw him getting any work down. He was just...around you. All the time. Making you laugh, touching your arm or shoulder here and there, glancing at your lips. You were as bright as ever, too nice, too friendly, but you were like that with everyone, that new intern shouldn't feel at all special.

"Boss, are you okay? Your blood pressure is going up." Miguel's claws dug deeper into his skin, while his other hand tightened around his coffee mug. The intern –whom he never really bothered to learn the name of– was showing you something under the microscope, his hand resting on your back as you leaned to look. You were laughing at some stupid thing he'd said.

"¿Qué está diciendo que la está haciendo reír tanto?" He rasped out, the burning coffee making its way down his throat. LYLA peeked from behind Miguel's ear, glancing at you. A smile crept on her face. "Oh, I get it. You're jealous."

Miguel's eyes flashed crimson, then returned to their normal brown. "I'm not jealous. That is a childish feeling, LYLA." He whispered. "I think it's a pretty grown feeling, actually." LYLA giggled. Miguel took another sip of his coffee, almost spitting all out when he saw him tuck a hair behind your ear while you spoke to him. You nervously laughed, taking a step back, but continued to talk. "He's distracting her from work." Miguel explained. He had no right to be jealous. He was not your boyfriend, nor were you dating. Sure, there were some glances here and there, occasional hand brushing, the fact that you always kept him company during lunch when everyone was too scared to sit with him, always brought him a snack when you were out to grab yourself one, but there was nothing exclusive. "She should be finishing up her research, for that promotion she wants so bad, he's a bad influence."

[What is he saying that is making her laugh so much?]

"Is he? I think he's helping her. They are at her station, you know? And that sample he showed her, she took notes after seeing it." Miguel scoffed, usually he liked being faced with the facts, but right now wasn't a good time. LYLA grinned at him, "It's okay if you're jealous, you know. You thought you had no competition—"

Miguel's grip around his mug tightened, ignoring the sound of cracking. "It's not a competition. It's not fair for him to compete with me." He grumbled, "Look at him, what does he have that I don't?"

"He's funny, probably."

"LYLA."

"Hey man, you asked."

"I don't know why she likes that damn intern so much," His eyes trailed on the two of you, and on the clock, by now you'd usually ask him if he'd like to join you for lunch break, but you were too occupied, of course you were, that trainee never shut up, did he? "He's scrawny, clumsy, and doesn't know what he's doing most of the time." LYLA popped on his other shoulder, resting on it. "Maybe she finds him cute."

"Oh, please." The mug cracked a little more, "She shouldn't be persuing an office romance. Its unprofessional. Besides persuing an office romance with an intern," He watched him look at the clock, and point at the door, he mouthed you something along the lines of 'do you want to get out of here?'

Miguel's blood boiled.

"...is stupid. And she isn't stupid, quite the opposite. She should be with someone with a stable income. Someone who will treat her good."

"Oh what, like you?"

A loud smash caught the attention of everyone in the lab. You finally looked up at him, your eyes widening at the sight. Miguel looked down, only realising what had happened after the sting of hot liquid dribbled down his arm. He'd smashed the mug he was holding into tiny little pieces, most shards stuck in his bloodied hand. The coffee he'd been drinking caused minor burns too.

"Miguel!" You brushed past the intern and ran over to him. LYLA was no where to be found, but he distinctively heard the sentence 'Thank me later.' being whispered into his ear. You stood infront of him, your face woven with worry. "Your hand, what happened?" You gently grabbed his wrist, inspecting his injuried hand closely. "The mug, had to be bad quality, broke from how hot the coffee is." He knew that didn't make a bit of sense, what a lame excuse from the 'world's greatest genius' as you called him, but he was just a man, and right now, all his focus was on how your skin felt against his, and how extremly close you were to his body.

And at how the intern looked really pissed off.

"Oh, you poor thing, that must've hurt." You pouted your pretty lips, looking at him with those beautiful eyes. "Yeah." Miguel shifted, his expression stoic but his reddening ears betrayed the facade he keeps up around you. "I'll get the first aid kit, I took a nursing class once—Or would you like me to take you to the—"

"You'll do a just fine, I'm sure."

You let go of his wrist to grab the first-aid kit quickly, and Miguel looks over to the intern, who was stomping out of the lab, grumbling under his breath.

He grinned. If this is all it took to get your attention back on him, he'd surely break alot more mugs now.

#spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #astv #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spider999sposts

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thetarsier · 1 year

Note

Hiii I’ve been checking your blog and I love it, can I request secret relationship with Hotch? Like, Jack reveals your secret by accident by calling reader mom or smthn like that ❤️❤️❤️

a/n: I LOVE this.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/notes: sickness (but like fever, not actually being sick), Derek Morgan being a little shit, not proofread

<3: aaron hotchner x reader

When you’d woken up that morning to Jack coughing and sneezing his little heart out, you’d known what kind of day it was going to be.

Seeing his condition, it was obvious that he shouldn’t be going to school, and once Aaron had woken up, too, he’d agreed. However, there was work to be done in the office for both of you, and you didn’t want to risk getting Jessica’s children sick, too. The only option was to bring Jack into the office. He could sleep on Aaron’s couch for the day, and then go home to bed straight after. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

As usual, you and Aaron took separate cars to work, you parked nowhere near each other, and Aaron always waited at least five minutes after you’d exited your car to leave his. All countermeasures to keep the keen eyes of your coworkers away from the two of you and your well-hidden relationship.

It hadn’t been going on for long - just under a year - but things had moved quickly, and you basically lived with Aaron and Jack, only going back to your apartment occasionally when you and Aaron decided it would be best for him and Jack to be alone. You loved the both of them from wherever you were, staying with them was just a way to love them a little bit closer.

And, boy, was there love. Much to your surprise, Jack had called you ‘mom’ the other day by accident, which led to you going back to your apartment while he and Aaron had a conversation about Haley. You felt flattered that he’d felt so safe and loved around you that the name had been given to you, and Aaron assured you that he wasn’t upset about it.

When you’d gotten back, Jack had hugged you tightly around your neck and whispered: “My mommy is watching over me, and you do that, too. So you’re also my mom. Dad said that I could call you that if I wanted to.”

“Yeah? You want to, buddy?” You’d asked, fighting back your tears.

“Yeah! D’you want to come play?” He brushed off the issue as if it were nothing, pulling away from you and grabbing your hand instead, leading you into the living room where his toys were.

That lively boy had been replaced now by a quiet, sick one, and you tried not to be distracted by the sounds of him coughing in Aaron’s office. You had paperwork to do. You were supposed to be working. Jack had his father, and Penelope, who seemed to be making more trips to the water cooler today than she ever had before.

“God, it’s awful, isn’t it?” JJ’s words made you turn your attention to her from where you’d been staring at the door of Aaron’s office.

“Sorry?”

“Hearing children in pain. It never gets better. It’s actually worse once you have a child,” She shook her head, “I wish there was something I could do.”

“Yeah,” You said on an exhale, shuffling some of your papers to give your hands a task, “I might go and see if they need anything, actually.”

“I doubt it. Hotch probably has everything Jack could need right in there,” JJ patted your shoulder as she continued her walk past your desk, “You don’t want to risk catching whatever he has.”

You nodded, swallowing as you looked down at your computer. You had to focus. If you went in there, all of the secrecy that you and Aaron had worked for would be put under a microscope. If Jack found comfort in you, like you knew he would, if Aaron let you stay with him in his office when he’d kicked everyone else out within a couple of minutes, every separate car journey to work would be rendered useless.

Profilers were a nuisance. They saw everything, every minute shift in behaviour. They would definitely notice the signs of a relationship between you and your boss.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Morgan asked as he came up behind you, placing his hands on your tense shoulders, “You’ve been staring at your computer screen for a while.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just distracted.”

He didn’t seem to buy it. Or, rather, he did, he just knew that there was a deeper reason as to why you were distracted that you weren’t mentioning. His fingers pushed into your shoulders as if he were trying to knead the secrets out of you.

“Oh, I get it,” He mumbled next to your ear and your heart rate began to pick up, “Someone’s got a new boyfriend.”

“What?” You squeaked, turning in your chair and forcing Morgan’s hands from you, “What are you talking about?”

“You’re checking your phone a lot, you’re distracted, you’re happier recently; all signs point to good sex.”

“Derek! This is a work environment.”

“You’re not denying it,” He grinned, leaning on his own desk that was right behind yours, “So you do have a guy.”

“No! No.” You squirmed under his knowing gaze, dropping your shoulders as you let out a sigh, “Okay, yes. Yes, I do. Now, will you leave me alone to do my work?”

He cheered loudly in success, but your worried glance around the space forced him to quieten down, and after he didn’t make any other noises for a few seconds, the eyes in the office that had been drawn to the two of you quickly left again.

“Just…” You turned back to your computer, “Don’t mention anything to anyone, okay?”

“Only if you answer one question: was I right? Is the sex good?”

You imagined what Derek’s reaction might be if he realised he was talking about his boss, the thought almost put a smile on your face. Instead, you glared at him over your shoulder, and he raised a challenging eyebrow at you.

“Hey, baby girl-” He shouted across the office while holding eye contact with you.

“No! Okay fine,” You leaned closer to him, speaking in a hushed whisper, “The answer to your question is yes.”

His shit-eating grin only grew wider at your answer, and when Penelope approached the two of you, Derek made an excuse of asking her out to lunch, and the two of them left the office together. You could finally relax.

Until the sound of Jack’s coughing punctured through the air again.

As much as Derek annoyed you (much like an older sibling), he was brilliant at distracting you from everything going on in your life. And even though you were sure that he was telling Penelope your secret at that very moment, you couldn’t help but be a little bit grateful that you’d managed to tear your mind away from the child in Aaron’s office.

It was scary to think about what could happen if the people in your office found out about you and Aaron. As a woman, it was undoubted that you would get at least one comment about sleeping your way to the top, and even though HR knew about your relationship in order to keep professionalism, you couldn’t imagine the kinds of issues that might arise with other agents if they all knew about your relationship. People could be made uncomfortable, or accuse Aaron of preferential treatment; your jobs could be on the line.

But, then again, it would relieve a huge weight off your shoulders. You wouldn’t have to worry about taking separate cars, waiting in the parking lot, or having to stay away from the person who brought you the most comfort when you were really in need of a hug.

No. No, you couldn’t be public about your relationship until either one of you didn’t work at the BAU anymore, which you were sure wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

The door to Aaron’s office opened, and Jack appeared, holding Aaron’s hand and a blanket that he hadn’t let go of since he’d left the house. You tried to seem unfazed, glueing your eyes to your paperwork, but your heart beamed out of your chest when Jack pulled Aaron to a stop right beside your desk.

“Hey, you feeling okay, buddy?” You asked, keeping your voice gentle. The burn of about a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly became apparent.

Which was why, when Jack held his arms up to be brought up into your lap, loudly exclaiming ‘Mommy!’ as you hesitantly pulled him up, you knew there was no way you could hide. Even if he hadn’t said anything, the way he melted into you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, was probably a dead giveaway.

“Oh, sweetheart,” You cooed as you rubbed his back, looking up at Aaron, who was shielding you somewhat with his body as he leaned against your desk, watching you with a hint of a smile, “It’s okay, baby. You’ll feel all better soon, I promise.”

“How soon is soon?” Jack groaned into your skin, and you kissed his hot cheek.

“Really, really soon, buddy, okay?”

You continued rubbing his back as the people around you pretended to continue on with their tasks. Aaron rolled Derek’s desk chair from behind his desk and pulled it up next to you and Jack, lips stretching into a thin line.

“He was upset, asking for you. I thought I’d rather he be happy than us protect ourselves,” He explained in a low voice, “I probably should have asked.”

“It’s alright,” You assured him, “I’m glad you brought him out, it’s been killing me all day. What are we going to tell everyone?”

“I’ll tell them to mind their own business,” He placed a hand on your knee, away from the view of everyone else, “We did everything right, telling HR but keeping it a secret from the team. It can be a sort of… relief that we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We should get him back to your office,” Jack had fallen asleep against you, so you stood up carefully, keeping his head still with one hand cradling it, “Morgan will be back soon, and we should probably figure out a strategy to best tell him-”

“Oh!” Came a shout across the office as you and Aaron were halfway up the stairs. You squeezed your eyes shut, not believing in your bad luck, and Aaron turned around to look at Morgan, “Hotch is the secret boyfriend?”

“Watch your volume, Morgan,” Aaron warned, “As much as it may not seem like it, you’re still at work.” The ‘And don’t you dare wake up my son’ was implied, but Jack did nothing more than wiggle around in your arms at the loud noises.

“Oh, man,” Derek grinned as you and Aaron continued to walk up the stairs to his office, “I know something about you, Hotch.”

His taunts were blocked out by Aaron opening his office door for you and closing it behind himself, twisting the lock and pulling the blinds as you set Jack down on his sofa and tucked his blanket around him.

“What is he talking about?” Aaron asked once you’d stood up, hands coming to rest on your waist in a way they never had while you two were at work.

You relished in his touch, morphing it into a hug as you wound your arms over his shoulders. At home, he was always touching you, always somewhere close, but it was different - new - in his office, where the only things exchanged between the two of you were longing looks and papers.

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

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alt-vera · 1 year

Note

I don’t know if you’re taking requests, but I’ve been thinking so much about Joel Miller (Pedro Pascal) as your best friend’s dad who takes your virginity and talks you through the whole moment 😩 could you please write something short about this

— crazier ⁀➷

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joel miller gives his daughter’s best friend one hell of a going away present.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.6k | ❛ crazier - taylor swift ❜

warnings: no outbreak!joel miller. age gap. virgin!reader. taking of virginity (duh). outdoor + truck sex. praise. fingering. piv sex. mdni.

❝ feels like i’m falling and i, i’m lost in your eyes ❞

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SOMEHOW, YOU ENDED UP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT OF JOEL MILLERS TRUCK.

　The night sky painted everything around you in a dark coloured hue, the only disruption being his headlights ricocheting off the roadsigns.

　He’d offered to take you for a drive before he took you home, seeing how nervous you were as the days of you leaving for UofT neared. You loved driving at night, and your car was in the shop, so he figured he’d detour dropping you off for a bit; give you your fix as a going away present. He was your best friend Sarah’s dad, and you’d trust him with your life, so you said yes.

　The only sound was other cars passing and the low hum of country music on the radio. You watched as he glanced at you before breaking the silence.

　“Y’know, I never went t’college,” His voice was hoarse and low from lack of speaking, “but i’m sure you’ll have a good time.”

　You sighed, “I know. It’s just…”

　A lump grew in your throat. You weren’t sure if this was something you’d wanna tell Joel. There was a lot he knew about you, being in your life for years, but this was… intimate. It wasn’t embarrassing, but…

　“It’s just what?” He prompted.

　“I didn’t want to go to college a virgin.”

　Your words came out rushed and jumbled, and your face turned ruddy. You watched as his grip tightened on the wheel.

　“You’ve never…?”

　“No.”

　A beat of silence passed, and you kicked yourself. You knew you shouldn’t have said anything.

　“Well, y’know, we could change that.”

　You heard the clicking of the turn signal before you realized he was pulling over, and your mouth went agape. When you turned your head you saw that he was already staring at you, gaze unwavering. You felt as though you were under a microscope.

　“Have you ever done anything before?” He impelled, and you bit your lip.

　You were nervous. Were you sure you wanted to be this deep-seated with him? No. But you’d always found him hot, in a charming dad way. How his muscles would bulge when he’d make breakfast, or how his gaze would darken when he’d hear about boys you and Sarah interacted with at a party. Now, you wondered if that darkened look was more jealousy than protection.

　You moved your head as your face contorted slightly, “Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, you know, I’ve… touched myself, and I’ve given head.”

　“And i’ve kissed,” You added after a moment. “Obviously.”

　“Obviously,” He repeated, mocking your tone, and you smacked the bicep resting on the centre console. It was difficult to ignore how hard that muscle felt under your touch.

　You felt yourself getting closer to him before you even realized it, and next thing you knew the two of you were kissing, your lips moving against his and his tongue weaselling into your mouth.

　You licked against him, eager for him. It turned him on.

　He pulled away. “C’mon,” He jerked his head, opening his car door as he did so. “There’s a mattress in the back.”

　“You have sex in the bed of your truck often?” You asked, projecting your voice so that he could hear you as you both walked around to the tailgate.

　He scoffed, “No, of course not. I was moving it out of Sarah’s room because i bought her a new one for her dorm.”

　“It’s better than having your first time be in a backseat,” He continued, waving as an invitation for you to hop into the box as the tailgate came down with a slam. You climbed in, crawling onto the bare mattress with Joel following.

　The summer heat enveloped you in a blanket as you sat, unsure of what to do next. You watched him rid himself of his navy blue tee, crawling between your legs as you slightly lowered yourself into a half sit up, elbows holding you up.

　He kissed you again, gentle and slow with his tongue guiding yours. You melted into it, a whimper escaping you as his fingers traced your tit, your nipple rising through the fabric of your halter top.

　“No bra?” He questioned, a playful glint in his eyes as he untied your top to reveal you. “It’s almost as if you knew this was going to happen.”

　“I’m psychic,” You joked breathily as he toyed your bud with his tongue, “All virgins are. It’s probably been too long for you to remember that. We have a sixth sense for when hot dads are going to fuck us.”

　He laughed heartily, the rumble through his chest vibrating into you, and you couldn’t help as your hips chased his jean clad ones.

　“Someone’s needy,” He cooed, fingers reaching for the button of your cutoffs. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll talk you through this.”

　You moaned as he began teasing you through your panties, slick rubbing against the fabric. He pulled your shorts and panties off, circling your clit.

　“Gotta prep ya first,” He grunted, inching a finger inside. You let out gasp. His were a lot bigger than yours, and thicker. He waited a moment before adding another one, thumb rising to circle your clit.

　“That feel good, darlin’?” He asked, and you nodded, unable to form words. He couldn’t help as his lips upturned into a grin, fingers fucking you to your first orgasm. You rode his hand, bucking against him until you felt satisfied.

　You let out a breath of gratification before your hands reached for his belt buckle. “Wanna taste you, Joel. Please.”

　It took everything in him to say no, especially when you were asking so nicely. Joel tutted, shaking his head and unbuckling his pants himself.

　“Not tonight, baby. Tonight, I want you to feel good.”

　He pulled a condom out of wallet before chucking it to the side, along with his jeans. He pulled his boxers down, cock hitting the balmy air. It was dark, but the moonlight painted him in it’s graceful light, enough for you to see how big he was as he rolled the condom down his cock.

　You were nervous as hell, but gulped and attempted to relax as he rolled the head between your folds, collecting your arousal before he slowly pushed in.

　You whimpered at the pain, and he moved his hand up to rest of your cheek, thumb stroking your face adoringly.

　“It’ll only hurt for a minute, darlin’,” He promised, “Then it’ll be the best damn thing you’ve ever felt.”

　You nodded, and Joel smiled reassuringly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he continued to let you adjust. Inside, though, he was struggling. You were so damn tight, walls swallowing him in, and his dick throbbed as the thought crossed his mind that he was the ever to feel you like this. To pop your cherry.

　You felt him twitch inside you, and you bucked slightly. The pain of the stretch still echoed within your core, but you fought through it as Joel began moving at a snail pace, eyes trained on the way he slid in and out of you.

　“More,” You moaned, resting your hand on top of his as he held your hip. He glanced up at you before complying, muscles tensing as he began thrusting into you more harshly, your whole body shaking beneath him.

　He kissed up your neck as he fucked you, causing you to clench him tighter.

　“Baby, you’re makin’ me crazy,” He groaned out, hips snapping against yours, “Squeezin’ me and lettin’ me fuck you like this. What a goddamn good girl.”

　You couldn’t help the obscene noise that left you as his praise reached your ears. It awakened something inside you, and all you could think about was making Joel cum.

　What could you say? You were a people pleaser.

　“Want you to hit it from the back,” You stuttered out, and Joel instantly flipped you over, letting you find your place on your hands and knees.

　As you found your rhythm you began to meet his thrusts, a groan leaving his lips.

　“Good girl, just like that, baby,” He growled, his thick arm wrapping around your torso and lifting you up so that your back was pressed against his chest. He snapped into you, and you felt yourself peak, a weak moan leaving you as he continued to fuck you through your second orgasm.

　You felt his thrusts grow sloppy, and you knew he was close before he mumbled out the words. He hammered into you, slovenly and single-minded as he came into the condom.

　He slowed before pulling himself out of you, panting and tying the condom before throwing it haphazardly. You both laid down on the bare mattress, Joel’s arm resting around your naked form as he brought you closer to him, sheen sweat coating both of you.

　He pressed chaste kisses to your shoulder as you caught your breath, continuing as you willed yourself to speak. “That was…”

　“Damn good?” Joel suggested, and you felt him smile into your skin as you laughed.

　“Yeah, not too bad Mr.Miller.”

　You watched as he rolled his eyes. “Don’t you start, missy. You can’t let a man fuck you and then go right back to formalities.”

　“Noted,” You replied, “Joel Miller is not one for teasing. Got it. I’ll remember that next time.”

　“Next time?” He questioned, and you rolled over to look at him.

　“Yeah, y’know, there’s reading week, and Thanksgiving,” You counted off on your fingers, “Christmas break, Spring break… lots of time where i’ll be home and you can fuck me in the bed of your truck.”

　“You’re making me crazy,” He laughed breathily, and you grinned.

　“You said that already.”

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samkerrworshipper · 6 months

Text

the party | alexia putellas x reader

songfic based off of the song the party & the after party by the weeknd

warnings: cunnilingus, smut, minors dni 18+

With your Louis V. bag, tats on your arms

High heel shoes, make you six feet tall

Everybody wants you, you can have them all

It would be a crime to not look at her. Standing tall, her Louis Vuitton bag slung over her shoulder, her skimpy black dress that left nothing to the imagination, her tattoos that peaked over her shoulders and down her arms, her red backed Louboutin heels that made her look so irresistible and so fucking tall, accentuating her long legs and every single muscles and vein that ran along them. Your eyes were drawn to her from the other side of the room, completely pinned to the figure standing in front of you. She was insatiable, everybody in the room wanted her and yet her eyes were caught on your own, her long legs slowly making their way towards you and your seat at the bar.

In a club full of people, music and noise she silenced it all, made you feel like the both of you were the only people in the world, it was addictive, like a party drug. You almost choked on your sip of your martini as she approached you, and took a seat beside you on one of the barstools, ordering a drink from the bartender before addressing you.

“It’s rude to stare, tesoro.”

You blinked, your eyes darting to the glass in your hands.

“Lo siento.” I’m sorry

There was something about this woman that made you feel like you were on fire, and she was the only thing that could extinguish you.

“Don’t apologise, I don’t mind, what’s a girl like you doing in here anyways?”

The implication strung in her voice made you feel so shy, so small in a way you could never explain.

“Just looking for some fun I guess, how about you?”

You finally found the confidence to glance back up at her eyes, it was a rewarding sight, her deep hazel eyes locked onto your body, searching you up and down like you were a monet painting.

“Looking to have some fun on my night off.”

Her eyes were tantalising, dangerously dark and sinful, the hazel circling around her pupil into a tie dye mix of dark and light browns.

“How’s that going?”

It was a stupid question, but you felt like you were under a microscope, like a diamond under immense pressure and it was stressing you out, making you second guess everything. The mystery woman just seemed amused though.

“Could be going better, I’ve got a drink though, that’s one way to start it.”

She pulled her glass of what appeared to be whiskey on the rocks up, and you met her glass, clinking them together, a small smile gracing your lips.

“What’s your name sweetheart?”

The term of endearment sent shocks down your spine, little jolts of shivers that you didn’t even attempt to put a stop to.

“Y/n Y/l/n, how about you?”

Her eyes pierced your own from their position sitting just above your martini glass, peering over the rim at her figure, slowly taking in her figure that didn’t leave much of her body to your imagination, so much skin on show.

“Not important.”

Her voice was dismissive, and if you really cared you would push it, but you simply didn’t, so you just nodded your head.

“Y/n, that’s very pretty, suits the pretty face.”

You couldn’t help but blush a little bit at the flattery, lifting your martini glass to cover your mouth and the bright smile that you knew was spreading across your facial features.

“You’re a charmer, c’mon, give me a name to put to the face.”

She smirked at you, devilishly, like there was so much intention behind her eyes and mouth, intentions that you couldn’t even attempt to try and unearth.

“I think beautiful things should be appreciated, if you're really desperate you can call me Ale.”

You couldn’t help but feel the butterflies begin to crowd in your stomach, the heat rising up your neck and to your face at the outward compliments from your companion.

“You're very forward, most girls sitting at a bar would be a little bit intimidated.”

The woman’s eyes stayed pinned to your own, neither of you breaking the eye contact that made you feel so vulnerable and naked, like you were under a microscope in front of her.

“You’re not most girls though, are you?”

You bit your lip, her intentions were so clear and so blurred at the same time.

“You didn’t come and sit with me because I look like most girls.”

The woman snorted, setting her empty glass down on the bar.

“I’m going to the bathroom, the door with number 3 above it.”

Girl, I got your bag, I got it all

Hold your drink, baby, don't you fall

Be there in a minute, baby, just one call

You don't gotta ask me

Girl, pick up them shoes, I'll race your ass up all them stairs

She picked up her bag, her heels clicking under the floor beneath her as she strutted towards the stairs at the end of the bar, her hands reaching down to pull her frighteningly big heels so she could climb the stairs. You watched her ass and thighs move, it almost felt like she was putting a show on for you as she slowly progressed up the stairs.

You took a final swig from your glass, holding onto it and gripping down on the glass as you watched her finally ascend the stairs and out of your sight. You waited a minute or so, clutching onto your glass before setting it down and picking up your own belongings and making your way towards the stairs.

You didn’t take your time like the mystery woman, you climbed the staircase like it was a mountain you had to make it to the top of, completely relieved when you finally got to the top. It was a simple corridor in front of you, with numbered bathrooms, one to ten. You made your way down the hallway slowly, your eyes pinned to every door you passed until you made it to door number three. You felt like you were in a game show, or escape room, looking at the different doors and almost expecting something to pop out of one of them.

The surprise never came, so you reached for the door knob cautiously, testing the handle to see whether or not it was locked and quickly learning it was not. You took a deep breath, before twisting the door open and quickly shutting it behind you as you walked into the stall, making sure to lock the door behind you.

Before you even began to take in your surroundings the woman had pounced on you, her lips attaching to your own allowing you to taste the whiskey and spearmint on her tongue. It was a welcome flavour, overloading your taste buds which went into shock from the sudden contact and lust that was invading your system.

“Esta Bien?” Is this okay?

You nodded into her mouth, her tongue brushing against the roof of your mouth and pushing against the skin and tissue, exploring your mouth and lips with vigour.

“Si.” yes

The woman smirked into your mouth, continuing her bruising attack on your lips, but her hands falling to your hips and the exposed skin in between where your jeans separated from your cropped corset top. It was more like a bra, the only difference was the small chunk of material below the bra line. Her hands danced up and down your sides and you couldn’t help the little moan that left your lips as her hands brushed over the tops of your breasts and nipples.

“So desperate already, I could tell just how needy you were in that bar, desperate for some attention hm?”

You moaned openly into the woman’s mouth, your hips grinding upwards searching for some kind of contact or relief. The woman’s hand made its way to your waist though, pushing you back against the bathroom door.

“No, tomas lo que obtienes.” No, you take what you get

Her hand stayed pinned to your waist, her lips pressing against your own sinfully, moving rhythmically and nipping at your bottom lip as her teeth caught it in hers.

“Ale, please, need more.”

She was a woman that you knew absolutely nothing about, and normally that would make you uncomfortable, but for some reason it only spurred your sexual desire on, it was treacherous how horny your felt, your stomach and pussy clenching in tow as this woman’s lips moved down to your jawline, sucking on the skin.

“Is your pussy dripping for me, is it soaking through your panties?”

You nodded quickly against the older woman’s mouth, your head trapped by the grip that her lips and mouth had on your neck and chin.

You moaned openly when she dropped to her knees. Normally you’d be worried about the cleanliness of a club bathroom floor, but your whole brain was clouded with sex and that was enough for any kind of worry to leave you brain.

I understand, your body wants it

I know your thoughts, of you ‘bout it, ‘bout it

You’re a big girl, and it’s your world

And I’ma let you do it how you wanna

Girl, now ride wit it, ride wit it

I know you know, I know you wanna (ride) wit it

Don’t be shy wit it, I’ll supply wit it

I got you, girl, oh, I got it girl

You nodded at the woman when she looked up at you with an eyebrow cocked as her fingers looped into the belt of your jeans, silently asking for permission. When you nodded at her quickly she smirked, reaching for the clasp and unbelting it insanely quickly and letting it fall to the floor. Next her hands found the zipper of your jeans, tugging it down quickly and then popping the button before tugging the jeans down to join your belt. You stepped out of them and groaned a little bit as your eyes came into contact with the growing wet spot on the front of your panties, your arousal beginning to stick to the insides of your thighs.

“Oh bebita, is this all for me?”

You nodded your head once again, your head and back arching against the door as Ale’s fingers scooped underneath the elastic band of the thong you were wearing, snapping it twice against your hips, eliciting a positively filthy guttural moan that ranged from your core to your lips.

“God your so desperate, you going to ride my face, going to get off like a horny bitch in the heat and rut yourself against my face?”

It was pure filth falling from the older woman's lips as she tugged your panties down your thighs and onto the floor, her eyes latching onto your glistening lips that were directly in front of your face.

The feeling of her tongue darting out to meet your clit was ecstasy, pure pleasure as she dove into your folds, her tongue exploring the open sex right in front of her.

It was as her tongue found your open hole that you angled your hips directly above Ale, humping her face and beginning to grind your hips up and down her mouth and nose.

You half expected her to stop you, her dom persona seemingly controlling your every move, but she didn’t, so you continued to move your hips against her face, her tongue pushing in and out of your whole and your clit rubbing down hard and fast against her nose. The angle that it have you was magnificent and something that you’d never quite experienced. You pulled up for a second, out of fear that you were strangling the woman below you with your thighs, but you were quickly pulled down, your clit brushing down on the tip of her nose, it was fantastic and had you becoming a moaning mess and the coil in your stomach was so close to snapping, and then she refracted.

Her mouth moved from your lips and down to your thighs, sucking and biting down on the soft and milky skin, leaving bright purple marks as a reminder of exactly what she was doing to you. It was equally pleasurable, but not in the way you needed, not in the way you yearned.

“Ale, fuck, please, so close, please just fucking use my pussy, it’s all yours.”

She was so patient with your skin, gently sucking the marks in, your begging didn’t go unnoticed by her though, and once she finished her fourth love bite she nudged her tongue back to your opening, thrusting her flat pad in and out of your hole, generating completely sinful noises from your mouth. Your hands found Ale’s hair, fisting it in between your fingers and in your palms, tugging her up to meet your core and deepen her tongue’s thrusts.

You would have told her you were teetering on the edge, but you were too incoherent due to the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. It only took a few deep thrusts of her tongue and then a brush of your puffy clit against her nose for you to come undone, your whole body tightening and freezing against her warm mouth as you began to gush, your body grinding and your pussy gushing out and squirting all over her face as you spasmed on her lips.

Her hands pulled your thighs over her shoulders, stopping your legs from collapsing out from under you and leaving you to collapse on the floor. She guided you through your aftershocks with gentle kitten licks, sucking up any of the extra liquids that your pleasure cloud had produced.

Only when you’d come down from your high and you’d moved your legs off of her shoulders was when she moved off of her knees, revealing an absolutely soaked face, neck and top of her dress. You couldn’t help but snort a little bit at the appearance of her, a once composed and slightly terrifying woman now covered in your orgasm.

She stood up and before she could even try to say anything your lips were attached to her face, your tongue gently licking at your taste on her skin.

“That was fucking amazing.”

You moved your lips up to her nose and across her cheeks, lapping at any of the left over arousal on her delicate and clear skin.

“You didn’t tell me you were a squirter baby girl, look at my dress, all ruined in your slutty juices.”

You chuckled, a deep chuckle from your chest as you took in Ale, in all of her glory, completely fucked out and you hadn’t even touched her.

We can play all night

It just takes one night

To let me fuckin’ prove

This feelin’ I would give to you

“How about I make it up to you then?”

Your grin spread all the way up your cheeks, revealing your pearly whites to the woman.

“How about I take you back to mine and you can show me exactly how good you can be?”

Your head told you that it was a bad idea to go home with a woman that you’d only met a few minutes ago, but then the thought of going all nigh with this woman, who clearly knew what she was doing ran through your mind.

You began to take her in truly and it was then that something clicked in your brain, that you knew this woman, or you knew her face, and that was when all the puzzle pieces fell into place.

“Fuck me, your Alexia Putellas.”

The woman just smirked, her tongue dangling out between her teeth as she moved towards rhe sink, cleaning herself up a little bit but maintaining eye contact with you the whole time through the mirror.

“I will later, baby, don’t you worry, and it took you a little bit to figure that one out, now, my house? I promise I’ll give you everything you want, baby, all you have to do is ask.”

Ringtone on silent

And if she stops, then I might get violent

No call is worth stoppin’

So, momma, please, stop callin’

You reached down for you bag, and then your phone, recognising a string of texts from your roommate, worried about where you were and normally you would reply, but instead you turned your phone off, shoving it down into the bottom of your handbag and turning back to the Catalan woman, who was now standing directly in front of you, her arm stretched out as an offering.

If you had your wits about you, and not singularly sex on your mind you would have left her arm, left the renowned soccer player hanging, but then again, you definitely didn’t have your wits about you with your post orgasm brain.

So you took her arm, smiling brightly.

“Your house?”

Alexia smirked and nodded, leading you out of the bathroom and back downstairs and out of the club, a smile on both of your faces and the smell of sex radiating from both of you.

#daddy alexia putellas #alexia putellas smuttt #alexia putellas is mom #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso #woso community #marry me rn #wlw smut #woso smut #shameless smut #i love smut #smut

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bejeweledblondie · 7 months

Text

Post-Baby Bath

Captain John Price x F! Reader

Summary: John decides to help his beloved wife out by pampering her while their newborn is settled down for nap time

A/N: incase you can’t tell my baby fever is at a all time high this week

Warnings: mentions of childbirth, surgery, sexual innuendos

Delivering a baby is no easy feat, hell pregnancy alone is no easy feat. You had just delivered your baby boy not even a week ago. While he wasn’t a very fussy baby, taking care of a infant while healing wasn’t easy especially while healing. You had deliver your son your own while John was on FaceTime. The delivery nurse had to console you so you didn’t raise your blood pressure. It was your worst nightmare. So here you sat at home, alone holding your infant son as he nursed on your chest. He was all John, he had his eyes, nose, & thick head of brown hair. You ran a finger across his pink chubby cheeks as his big eyes stared at you.

The sound of the door lightly opening & closing along with the shuffling of combat boots.

“Darling?” John’s thick accent filled the air. He was home, a sigh of relief washed over you. You were no longer alone in taking care of your newborn.

“I’m in here love,” You replied rocking your son. John walked in to the bedroom & removed his combat boots. A small smile started to appear on your face. With your free hand you reached out for him & cupped his right cheek. He sat down on the edge of the bed & looked down at your newborn son.

“Oh darling,” John said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He took a long look at you, the guilt of not being there weighed on his conscious as he took in your appearance. Small bags were under your eyes from exhaustion, your hair was all tangled, & your skin was pale. Then he looked down again at the bundled in your arms. “He’s beautiful. I’m so proud of you.”

“You wanna hold him he’s just about done.” You said as the newborn started to become fussy. He unlatched from your breast & you handed him over to John’s open arms. John’s large frame made the already small baby boy look microscopic. You put your breast away & just admired the scene in front of her. Your son was looking up as his father with amazement. His face wiggled around with different expressions & his chubby little hands reached out for his beard. Tears welled in John’s eyes at the site of his newborn son.

“I am sorry for missing the birth, baby.” John said he as he looked at you, guilt in his eyes. “You must be so tired.”

“I’m not gonna lie I am.” You sighed. “I haven’t showered in two days. I feel so gross.” Your son had fallen asleep in John’s arms by now. “Oh thank God he’ll be asleep for hours.”

“Why don’t I put him down in his bassinet then draw you a nice warm bath.” John suggested. You smiled at him.

“Baby that sounds absolutely wonderful.” You sighed at the thought. John played your baby in the bassinet & then walked into the bathroom. You could hear the water starting to fill up the tub from your place on the bed. John came out of the bathroom & picked you up out of bed. The past few days you moved with the pace of a snail. You were still healing down there & any sudden movement was painful. Your head rested against his chest as he gently carried you into the bathroom. He put you down gently on the bath mat next to the tub. You went to go & remove your shirt you hissed in pain. Breastfeeding is no joke, your whole chest was achy.

John kneeled in front of you & helped remove your shirt. Then he went to remove your sweat pants. Out of embarrassment you didn’t want John to see you with the giant pad in your hospital underwear. Or the fact your stomach wasn’t all the way down.

“Love.” John said softly. “Don’t hide from me.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You just had a baby, & regardless I love you.” He was always so tender with you. “You’re also in pain love, let me help you.”

“Okay.” You softly said. He helped remove your sweatpants. “Let me take these off.” You said as he turned around to give you privacy. You removed the hospital underwear & tapped John to let him know you were ready to be put in the tub. He turned out & smiled at you just taking you all in. He felt so honored that you trusted him with seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

“God, you are so beautiful.” He said & lifted you up. Slowly he put you in the warm water. The shock of the water hitting your aching body made a sigh escape your lips. You hadn’t realize how badly you needed this, & how much your body ached. John smiled at you in the tub. He stripped off his uniform & climbed in with you. Your back was rested up again his chest. Lord knew he needed a bath himself from the latest mission.

He wrapped his big burly arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“You want me wash your hair lovely?” He asked. You nodded, & he immediately grabbed your shampoo. As soon as his fingers touched your scalp you could’ve fallen asleep right there. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head & you sighed. You could feel the stress from the day melting away the more he massaged the vanilla scent into your hair. He rinsed the shampoo out & put in your conditioner. John always knew your hair routine & he knew your sweet spots. After he rinsed the conditioner out you rested your head on his shoulder.

The two of you just basked in your own glow. John thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever lied eyes on. Your post baby body to him was the most beautiful thing. It represented your strength & ability to give him one of the most beautiful things he had ever lied eyes on. Besides you of course. He had never known how deep his love could go until he laid eyes on you holding your son. Once the two of you finished your bath, you both jumped into your pajamas & checked in your son. While cuddling watching a movie you heard your son fussing in the bassinet.

You picked him up, & John immediately held out his arms to hold your son.

“Let me take care of it love.” He said. “I need to get to know our son, & you need to catch up on sleep.” You passed the infant off of to John & watched his little body lay on his father’s chest. John started to rub small circles on his newborn son’s back & a small smile appeared on the baby’s face. A little bit of drool started to pool on his t-shirt. Your eyelids started to become heavy as you watched John with your son. A peaceful much slumber consumed you, as you basked in the love of your husband & now newborn baby.

#call of duty #cod imagines #cod masterlist #ghost call of duty #cod modern warfare #captain john price #captain price #john price #captain price x female reader #captain johnathan price #captain john price imagine #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x y/n #cod imagine

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wildestdreamsblog · 9 months

Text

Latibule VIII

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: last two chapters before the end of season 1! Thank you for enjoying the ride with me 🫶🏻

Masterlist, Latibule VII

Jung Hoseok watched over the glass of whiskey he was was sipping from as the last living member of the group entered the room. He smiled at Kim Taehyung as he plopped down on the seat with an exhausted sigh.

“Well, don’t you look good, Tae,” Namjoon drawled, his eyes focused on his tablet as he was ever so busy.

“I have no time to remove my makeup, hyung,” he replied in annoyance as he pointed at the faux bruises he had on his face from taping his latest movie. “Someone insisted I’d be here at this exact hour.” His eyes shifted at Seokjin who hadn’t said a word since he arrived, merely looking at them with emotionless eyes as though they were under a microscope.

“So why are we here, then?” Jungkook voiced out the unspoken query they had between them,

Hoseok placed down his glass with a thud, leaning forward, his arms hanging on his spread knees as he eyed them with a smile on his face. “Don’t you think it’s time to elect a leader?” He inquired curiously, his head tilted to the side as though he was overtly concerned. “There’s only so much violence and chaos our Kookie can do before they start taking advantage of our current predicament.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow lifted as he paused his reading on the tablet. He raised his eyes to Hoseok, his intelligent mind running a mile per second. “And just in time for her death anniversary, hyung.”

Hoseok’s gritted his teeth, his eyes hardening at the mere mention of her, of the person he fucking lost, “It’s what she would’ve wanted, Joonie,”

“Is it?” He drone with tone dripping with boredom. “Funny, I remember clearly how she never wanted to be part of our world…or am I wrong?”

Jungkook looked up thoughtfully from his phone, “For someone who didn’t want to be part of our world, Noona sure did know her way around knives and poisons.”

Jimin clicked his tongue at the golden maknae, “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Kookie.”

“It was a compliment, hyung!”

Amidst the chaos of arguments between the two, Hoseok looked at their oldest hyung- the original prince of the underworld. “You’re quiet, hyung.” he observed dryly, his smile pleasant as though he wasn’t the traitor that he was. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Seokjin stared at him with coldness in his eyes, how he was raised as the mafia prince showing as he regarded him with apathy and calmness. If it was anyone, they would have ran from the hills and yet, running wouldn’t have saved them. Nothing could have saved them should Seokjin chose to end them. “I’m just thinking about the traitor. Do you think he’s sitting with us right now, Hoseok?”

—-

Dominant.

That was how you would describe his kisses. Your Suga never did once hesitate, his lips strong and certain. He kissed you like he was starved, like he had been in hell for far too long and you were his first and only reprieve. And in between his kisses, you could feel his lips stretched into a smile. What you did not expect was his hands- of how soft his hands were as they cradled your head closer to him. You didn’t expect to feel the tremble in his hands as though he was having a difficult time controlling himself. What you most didn’t expect was how gentle he was as he caressed your cheek as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

And you were too powerless from his kisses. You held on to his thick wrist as he rested his forehead on yours.

He was breathing as hard as you were, and when you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you with softness and sparkle in his eyes that you never saw before.

“Okay?” He asked. You smiled at him as you nodded twice. You closed your eyes and savored this moment, your hand tracing every part of his face, forcing yourself to commit how he was at the very moment to memory.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Perhaps, what you didn’t anticipate and never thought of in your wildest dreams was how clingy he could be, you meant, looked at him! He was the least person you’d thought of to want to cuddle from how you knew him. You meant, wasn’t he the person who valued his personal space that he once pushed you to the side when you walked an inch closer to him back when you barely knew him?

His arms tightened on your waist when you attempted once again to get up from the bed. Suga had your head tucked firmly on under his chin, his leg in between your legs which further secured you to him.

You couldn’t leave him without him knowing about it. Yet, this didn’t deter you from attempting to get up.

“You’re going nowhere today, Angel,” he ordered grumpily, his body inching even closer to you, his cheek rubbing on your head like the cat you thought he was.

“We need to get up. We have work-“

“No, we don’t. We’ll call in sick today,” he murmured stubbornly, his hand rubbing your back softly. “I just got you. I can’t let you go.”

You looked up at him, and you swore at this very moment he looked so at peace and content that you couldn’t help but agree.

And so, you two called in sick.

“Then what should we do today?”

“Let’s go to the beach.”

Beach was a two-hour travel by bus and it was so worth it. The weather was perfect, and everything was so bright except for your companion who you couldn’t comprehend why was wearing black. He had his long hair on a half-bun, his eyes emotionless as though he wasn’t the one who suggested going to the beach. When you asked him why he wanted to go to the beach, he said that it was what the internet said when he researched where to go with your special someone. He said it so unapologetically that you weren’t able to say anything.

But heavens did you love it here. Back when everything wasn’t as difficult, your family would always go to the beach. You weren’t exactly rich, but your parents did everything to provide for you and sent you to medical school. Your whole life was just ahead of you until the tragedy happened. You thought you would never be genuinely happy again, but seeing him walk alongside you, your hand secured in his and as the wind blew his dark hair and the sound of waves were the only thing that could be heard, you were so certain you were happy again.

Suga made you happy.

He watched you fondly with his hands in his pockets as you skipped on the fine sand, your eyes crinkled to the sides as you dipped your feet on the warm sea. The emotion he had a hard time naming was now apparent to him- he was enraptured by you. You absolutely looked like an angel, he thought. And he would do anything to not bring his hell on you.

And without you noticing, he took a photo of you with the phone you gifted him before. The photo turned out to be low-quality, the resolution grainy but despite all that, it proved to be his favorite photo of you.

You were happy with him, Suga thought. An angel like you was happy with him.

“Why didn’t we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to ask him. He looked up at you from his lunch. The two of you decided to eat in the quaint restaurant situated on the seaside, the locals and tourists alike swarmed the place.

“Why didn’t we what, Angel?” He questioned as he placed more meat on your rice.

“You know…”

“I seem to not understand what you mean, Angel,” he commented confusedly, yet when you looked up at him he was attempting so hard to hide his smile.

You glared at him, “Why didn’t we do it?”

“Oh, that,” he pondered with his fingers stroking his chin as though in thought. “I knew it. You find me irresistible and I can’t blame you-“

“I take it back. I take it all back-“

Suddenly, he leaned closer to you, his finger tilting your chin up to him. “You have no idea how difficult it was to stop myself from taking you last night,” he divulged, his eyes were serious. “But Angel, you deserve more than a quick night. You deserve to be romanced.”

Suga told you he would be right back after your lunch. He said that he saw something in the souvenir shop that Jackson junior would loved. You waited and waited, however, you thought he was taking a lot longer than he should have.

You decided that you would just go to the shop, after all it was near to the bus station. You walked out of the restaurant. The sun was about to set, making the place looked more ethereal. You found it both beautiful and sad. You wondered when you’d be able to see this again. You were about to cross the road when a strong hand pulled you back so swiftly that you had no choice but to slam your body to his, as his other hand guided your waist to him.

A strong, loud horn from the car reverberated on the otherwise peaceful street as it sped away, barely missing your form.

Fuck.

Holy shit.

People swarmed at you as they asked you if you were okay, but all you could hear was the sound of heart beating so loud. All you could focused on was the arms that saved you. You were both on the ground, his body beneath you after he saved you and you could feel his arms trembled against you.

All of the noise faded as you looked up at Suga, beside him laid the paper bag of what he bought the child. He was looking at you with alarm, the memory of you about to get hit by a car because you didn’t see it was still fresh in his mind.

“Suga-“

“I told you,” he started, his teeth gritted with panic and anger. “I told you I only got you. I told you I cannot fucking lose you- that I can never lose you. What the fuck were you thinking? Didn’t you see the car!?”

You didn’t.

That was the truth, you didn’t see much. Because if you did, you would have seen him walked to you just as you exited the restaurant. He was almost in front of you that time, and yet, you didn’t see him.

You feared your condition was near its extremity.

One week passed since your almost accident. You stared at the paper white walls decorated by several diplomas and certificates of him. The clinic was quiet, the only thing that could be heard was the door opening and your doctor seating in front of you. He sighed.

And you were used to this.

Initially, you were hopeful that there was a cure, that an operation was possible. But there wasn’t a cure- they could only prolong your eyesight for so long. And the operation was something you could never afford. You needed to go abroad for it, you needed to recuperate for months for it- all those things were out of your hands. Your condition started when you lost your parents at that tragic accident. Your father was the kindest and most hardworking man, and he had the moral of a saint. That, you thought, was his downfall.

It was late at night when your father witnessed a murder. It was a huge news, you remembered. A senator perished that night, and your father was the key witness to it all. Immediately, your whole world was flipped around. Your family had to go into a witness protection program, leaving the life you knew behind. The days were idle and quiet, but at night the three of you were in trepidation of what could have happened.

Until one night, the unthinkable happened.

Your father was on edge, saying that the three of you were no longer safe there, that the police was not all on your side. You remembered the car ride like it was yesterday. You remembered your father driving with urgency away from the safe house.

You remembered the sudden light aimed beside you, illuminating all three of your inside the dark car. You remembered your mother’s panicked scream, your father’s agitated movements as he tried to dodge the car all to no avail. And then you remembered a car slamming on your side.

You woke up a week later with a terrible news: your parents didn’t make it.

But you did.

It was another three months later when signs started manifesting. The impact from the car accident was so severe that it affected your eyes.

“Did you already prepare, Ms. Y/N?” The doctor asked kindly after several beats of silence.

You chuckled at his worried eyes. He had always been kind to you, offering you help, sending you pamphlets of where you could get help, even going as far as researching for a service dog. He had a fatherly concerned for you, and you appreciated him. “I’m going blind, Doc. Not dying,” you reprimanded him with humor in your voice.

He didn’t return your smile and instead, he sighed before pushing his glasses up. “Did you tell your family?”

A beat of silence. “I have none.”

“Do you have…anyone?”

It was dark when you arrived, your eyes focused on your feet as your conversation with your doctor played in your head. You had limited time. You were almost near when you looked up and saw Suga waiting for you outside your shared home. He smiled the moment he saw you, the sides of his eyes crinkled. He walked to you and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. Your face was buried on his muscular chest, inhaling his muscular scent.

He smelled like home, you thought.

Maybe you did have someone.

Maybe you had him.

“Affirmative, boss,” a man hidden in the shadows said in his earpiece, his eyes trained on the living leader of the mafia world. “Agustd is alive.”

Tip Jar

Latibule IX

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #mafia min yoongi #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yandere min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #mafia bts

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confused-wanderer · 4 months

Text

Incorrect batfam quotes as things I’ve heard as a college student that definitely fit them:

—

Dick: Stop copying me!

Jason: StOp CoPyInG mE!

Dick: Oh my god you’re so annoying

Jason: oh my god you’re so annoying

Dick: I love you

Jason:

Dick: Say it bro

Jason: *booking it to the door*

Dick : SAY IT BACK MOTHERFUCK-

—

Barbara: .. wait I’m lost now

Stephanie: Girl I’ve been lost a long time ago

—

*while the batboys are doing laundry*

Dick: .. hey Jason?

Jason: yeah?

Dick: I put money and my clothes in the washing machine but it won’t start. Could you try?

Jason *stares at it and gently pries the door open before slamming it shut with such force that it swings open again*

Dick: DONT BREAK IT I PAID FOR THIS MAN

Jason: Hold on lemme try some- *swings harder*

Tim: WHAT ARE YOU DOING IDIOT ??

Washer *beeps and starts washing*

—

Duke: ah.. such a peaceful day and gorgeous vie-

*hears screaming in the distance*

Duke: Aaand we’re walking-

—

Tim: I’m sorry but could you tell me how to spell your name? I’m trying to save your contact.

Damian: It doesn’t matter.

Tim: Of course it does! I just want to make sure I spell it right.

Damian: No, seriously. It doesn’t matter how you spell it. That’s not even my real name.

—

Jason and Damian having breakfast in silence at a restaurant

Damian: so I have a knife in my room.

—

Bruce: And there’s this girl in the bathroom who’s been crying there for hours! And I don’t even know who it is, I can just see her shoes

Selina : Wait let’s check it out

Bruce: .. isn’t that an invasion of her privacy?

Selina: you’re no fun… I wonder what’s going on

Bruce: well she was talking to her friend about *insert very oddly specific rant about every microscopic detail*

Selina:

Bruce: ? What?

Selina: ..and youre trashing me for tryna find out who it is.

Bruce: Hey I was debating if I should call out and ask her if she was okay

Selina: Mhmm. Nosy. Imma go check-

Bruce: I have to fill my bottle anyways so I guess I’ll join..

— later —

Harley: and then what happened?

Selina: This mf was waiting for me outside while I found out and then I shooed him away to fill his bottle. And then we both watched as he placed it under the tap only for it to immediately start overflowing

Harley *howling with laughter*

Bruce: IT WAS HALF- EMPTY

Selina: It was FULL

Bruce: ..you’re exaggerating

Selina: Girl be for real you’re just as nosy as I am, that’s why we get along so well~

———————————————————————-

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herbgerblin · 18 days

Note

happy birthday, but also i am BEGGING you to elaborate on 'TLT TAZ AU' because me and my friend have been bouncing back and forth ideas on what that could possibly mean and there are a million different directions you could take it. where's your brain at

apologies for this reply being several months old. i am blaming the vitamin d deficiency (this is not a bit, i was super deficient and in depressy mode for a few months.) I'll admit I haven't marinated on this more than a few surface thoughts because trying to determine who was what got very complicated. But I have provided the amalgam of scribbles i have made as is a continuation of this post.

ID: On the left of the first image is a drawing of Barry and Lup standing and talking to each other. An arrow pointing to Barry is captioned "guys with no pulse" and an arrow pointing to Lup is captioned "girl whose whole thing is blood circulation". Between them is a shared thought bubble that reads, "I want to study you under a microscope." They're both wearing black, nondescript clothes. Lup is wearing a belt containing various vials of blood. She also has a cardiovascular tattoo on her chest and arms.

On the right of the image is a doodle of Lup and Taako. Taako is wearing a wizard hat of bones. Lup stares off in the distance, muttering, "I'm gonna take that guy." Taako asks, "In a fight, right?" Lup blushes beside a thought bubble that reads, "NSFW" Taako reiterates in all caps, "In a fight right?"

The second image is sketches of Magnus, Davenport, and Merle. Magnus is a tall man with messy hair and a beard. He wears a long military jacket, open with no shirt, breeches, and knee-high boots. He is beaming and leaning on his leg, one foot resting on top of a skull. Davenport is a short man with a neat little mustache. He wears a tailored military outfit with a cape. He is standing on a platform of bones. Merle is a short, portly man with a hair bun and a beard. He wears a surcoat with a skull and bones insignia over military clothes with epaulets. He is smiling with his hands on his hips.

The third image is three drawings of Lucretia as a necromancer. She has short, curly hair, and a slim build. She wears a black, sleeveless turtleneck dress with double slits and platform sandals. On the left, she is pointing a quill pen towards a skull perched to her hand. Int he middle, she is wearing a dark veil and looking forlornly, an open book resting on her lap. On the right, she is standing and holding her book close to her chest, looking uneasy.

#LUCRETIA IS HARROW CODED that's it that's all I've got #tlt au #the locked tomb #taz #taz au #I'm so glad to finally post this it's been languishing on my computer for months #adhd desire to make image descriptions make sense vs adhd desire to not write multiple long paragraphs FIGHT

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dejwrites · 1 year

Text

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) college boy toji proves that you're the only girl he has eyes on.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, feminine pet names, written with black reader in mind, third pov, college au, college boy!toji, he’s an international student in the states, hints at reader & him going to nyu, reader and toji in their early 20’s, reader calls him 't', alcohol usage, mentions of a hangover, a little angst, profanity, toji’s last name is zenin in this, friends with benefits trope, mentions of zenin family, toji’s a business major, mentions of pets (toji has a doberman named taichi), oral (f.receiving), doggystyle position, exhibitionism, flirty toji, you’re his #1 girl, early bday post for toji

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── click here for jjk masterlist. click here for ao3 link.

TWENTY-ONE-YEAR-OLD TOJI ZENIN SLUMPED DOWN INTO HIS SEAT IN THE BACK OF THE LECTURE HALL. Heavy bags under his eyes, headache clawing at the back of his skull, and running on 2 hours of sleep. When he plopped down in his seat, he flipped open his notebook to half-listen to the professor. The professor was boasting about the infamous wives of kings in different countries. He was late, very late. It was only his second semester at NYU as a business administration major, and he could already feel himself falling behind. He was sent overseas for school because his family thought it would help shape him for the family company back in Japan. Still, his last semester started with attending parties and social events (some on behalf of his family). Then on top of that, his younger cousin was also in town, so he was a major distraction.

Within the stressful semesters and maintaining an image under a microscope from his family overseas, he met a gorgeous girl Y/N. The two had a pretty complicated relationship—they met at a party, and he hated to admit that he was falling for her. Toji adored seeing her on campus, and he damn sure loved staring at her during this elective women’s history course. On days when he wasn’t hungover, he would poke Y/N with his pen until she snapped at him to stop. But today, Toji slumped in his seat, doodling in his notebook.

“You should pay attention. This is going to be on the quiz this Friday,” Y/N whispers as she’s writing in her notebook.

“That’s what I have you for,” Toji says as he gives her some tired grin that causes her to roll her eyes.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the man because she hated that it was true. Toji and herself met at a party with him flirting with her the whole night. She ignored him, considering that she had heard so much about him from other women. Yet, it was Y/N’s luck that she entered this class and saw him sitting in the back of the class at the start of the semester.

She didn’t understand why he would be taking a course like this, but she wasn’t going to get him talking. After all, when Toji spoke about himself, he couldn’t stop. Perhaps, that’s why she liked him. He was a confident guy that knew what he wanted. Y/N didn’t expect the two to start an immature friends-with-benefits relationship. Even though, on some days, she’ll spot him flirting with other girls in exchange for accounting notes. He still manages to make her cheeks grow hot with his witty comments and captivating smile.

But the one thing the young woman hated was seeing him like this. His head was on the cold desk and his eyes closed, not paying attention. This education could have gone to someone who wanted to be here. Y/N’s teeth grazed upon her plump lip gloss-covered lips as she inched her chair closer to him. She lets her hand travel to Toji’s lap as she places her pen down. Her hands rubbed at his crotch until she could feel him squirming under her touch. His head still lying on the table with the hood to his NYU pull-over hoodie on turned towards her. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby,” He says as he tugs his chair further under the table.

“Oh, hush,” Y/N says as she unbuttoned his jeans quickly. Her curious eyes stared ahead at the clock, ten more minutes until the class ended. That’s enough time.

When Toji felt her hand in the comfort of his pants, his head shot up to lean back in his seat. His teeth grated at his lower lip as a slight hiss escaped his mouth. He tuned out the professor lecturing about the downfall of Marie Antoinette.

“I’m sure you can be quiet, huh?” Y/N questions as her hand glide up and down his thick shaft. Her thumb brushed against his thick pink tip that leaked with precum.

“Shit,” Toji uttered under his breath. His body was radiating so much heat at the moment, and it wasn’t coming from the layers of clothes he was wearing.

“Okay, I will be releasing you guys early. Please use the time to study for the quiz next quiz.”

Toji’s body seemed to go through shock when Y/N removed her hand from his pants. A cold chill goes down his spine as he’s quick to button his pants so no one can see. Toji quickly stuffed his belongings inside his bookbag to catch up with Y/N, who had already exited the class. He nearly knocked down some students trying to chase after her. With her brown skin glistening with each step she took through the halls and her head held up.

“Y/N, Wait up!” Toji’s jogging up to her, chest heaving up and down, and a look of determination on his face. His face flushed with color due to the teasing brief handjob she gave him. He grabs a hold of her forearm to put a halt to her walking.

“Toji, I have a class to get to,” Y/N huffs as she looks at him.

“And I said don’t start something you can’t finish,” He reminded.

“It was something to wake your lazy ass up,” Y/N says as she looks at him. She adjusted the tote bag on her shoulders. “Now, can I go to my class now?” She questioned.

“Well, I’m up now.” Toji would say before his hand was dragging her into one of the smaller classrooms.

“Toji.”

“Y/N.”

“We can’t do this here, what if someone walks in,” Y/N questions.

He stepped closer to her with such lust in his eyes. She’s mentally cursing herself for waking up such a beast, but she enjoyed teasing him. He tugged at her strings so much that Y/N wasn’t afraid to tug at his right back once in a while. With each step he took, she took one back until she hit the teacher’s desk in the middle of the lecture hall.

The two were close, with Toji’s curious green hues staring at her lips. His fingertips traced alongside her side and it sent a chill down her spine effortless. “No one is going to walk in. This class always is empty for an hour or so.”

“How would you know that?” Y/N questioned, her hands going up to toy with the strings on his hoodie. Her eyebrows knit together in curiosity. “Have you fucked other women in here because if you did-”

“You’re always assuming I’m fucking someone else,” Toji pointed out. He then lifts her up to place her on the desk which she didn’t argue against.

“Because when are you not fucking other women?” Y/N asked as she watched him toy with the ends of the skirt she wore.

Toji kissed his teeth as he took up the space between Y/N’s legs. “I’m not having sex with other women, Y/N. I only want you.” He would mumble his last couple of words on her skin while he was kissing her neck.

“Mhmm.” Y/N hummed as she craned her neck to the side giving Toji more access to her neck.

“You don’t believe me?” Toji questioned as he tore his lips away from her neck. His green-colored eyes stared into hers waiting for a response. If you asked Toji when he first moved here for university if he would be strung by some girl, he wouldn’t believe you. But here Toji was trying to defend his case that he’s actually been keeping his dick in his pants. Toji’s heart was growing a little warmer for Y/N.

Y/N looked up at him. Her curious eyes stared into his eyes to search for any clue for his foolishness. Toji was still young like any other guy on the campus. Which meant that he still wanted to fool around with other women. Yet, Toji was right here pleading his case. Toji’s fingers lingered a bit higher each second as they sat in silence in the small lecture hall. Y/N’s felt her body get so hot, feeling Toji’s callous fingers on the inside of her thighs. “Do you want me to prove it?” Toji questioned.

Y/N’s teeth caught into her lower lip, but the larger man did gain a nod from the woman. Toji’s muscular frame towered down as he reached up Y/N’s skirt to tug the lace panties she wore down. Her underwear dangled from her ankle as he would kneel down between her legs. His plush lips littered kisses on the inside of her thighs. Toji felt under an intense spell when he got a whiff of Y/N’s sweet scent. It was a scent of home, something he had no clue what was with his delusional family back in Japan. She had the scent of warmth and sweetness. He’d grown to love it so much when he started to spend more time with her.

“Toji..” Y/N let out a shaky breath while she was squirming under his touch. Which only led to Toji’s arms pinning her still. It was like pinning a paper doll together with small pins so it won't fall apart. “We’re going to get caught.”

“Not if you keep it down, now please relax. Let me prove it to you,” Toji’s words seem to become less clear to Y/N when she felt the flat of his tongue licking at her puffy lips.

Y/N inhaled nattily as she placed her hand on the wooden desk to hold herself up. Her eyes peered down at Toji who was under her skirt. The lewd sound of him collecting her wetness caused her to chew at her lower lip. She was afraid of letting out any noise. In fear that if they got caught her college years would be over and thrown in the trash. But when she felt Toji’s mouth latch onto her clit, a low yelp escaped her mouth. Y/N’s body fell back onto the wooden desk and her hands desperately tugged her skirt up further around her waist.

Toji’s grip on Y/N thighs only tightened with each second he spent lapping up her arousal like a thirsty lap dog. His nose nuzzled at Y/N’s soft skin as his tongue that lingered with her slick flicked at her clit. His right hand released from holding her thighs open so he could enjoy his meal. Toji’s fingertips traced alongside the inside of Y/N’s thighs. His subtle touch sent a tingle down Y/N’s spine as she grew impatient due to his teasing. Her lips soon gasped apart, feeling Toji’s finger rub at her lips, collecting her wetness with ease. His thumb brushed against his clit and he began to rub circular motions upon it.

Y/N let out a moan at his sudden action before she could feel him insert his index and middle finger into her wet cunt. Her hand went up to muffle her cries while Toji’s fingers gradually pumped through her. Y/N let out a string of moans before her hand grasped at Toji’s black strands of hair. Her groans of pleasure were like music to Toji’s ears. Like his dog, Taichi’s ears shot up in excitement when he was happy. Toji’s ears burn with so much heat, hearing her sweet moans.

He pulled forward to latch onto her clit while his fingers moved inside her. His tongue slurped up any wetness that leaked out of her cunt. He continued to push his fingers inside her with ease. The lewd sound of Y/N’s wetness coating his fingers caused Toji to grow even harder in his jeans. Curling his fingers slightly to attempt to hit that one spot that caused her toes to curl, Toji’s nose was nuzzling at the soft skin upon her pussy—her pubes tickling his nose, but he didn’t care.

“Toji…I’m going to cum.” Y/N moaned out as her back arched off the wooden desk.

When she felt his fingers pull out of her, she felt empty. She mentally wanted to yell at herself for letting him have such power over her. Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him again stand on his feet. Her cunt was desperate to feel him inside her once again.

“Stand up and turn around,” Toji commanded.

The dominance that lingered off his tongue caused Y/N to stand up immediately. Before turning around, Toji tugged her in for a kiss. His tongue slides down her throat with so much aggression. When he pulled back suddenly, he said to her, “Wanted you to taste how amazing you taste to me.”

Y/N’s cheeks burnt with so much heat before she twirled around, urging him to fill her up again. Her hands were on the desk, waiting for Toji’s girth to stretch her out. She could feel his large hands gripping the flesh of her butt before he pushed her back down. Y/N could feel Toji’s plump tip brush against her entrance. A soft whine escaped her lips. “T, stop teasing.”

She knew Toji was smirking behind her before he pushed himself inside her. Her lips parted apart as she felt him stretch her fully. Despite the two having sex many times, each time, she still found herself gasping like an idiot at his size. Toji was eager to rock his hips forward to feel the addicting way her walls clenched around her. His fingertips rubbed random shapes on her waist, waiting for her to give him the go-to continue. “Relax, Y/N. I got you, baby girl,” Toji says.

Y/N relaxed under Toji’s touch before she began to back herself upon his waist. She could hear Toji chuckle before he cooed at her like some superior. “Look at you, getting a bit desperate.” He expresses.

Toji began to roll his hips upon her ass. The pornographic sound of their skin slapping against each other only boosted Toji’s ego even more. His thrusts grew more aggressive with each moan that escaped Y/N’s mouth. How his name rolled off her tongue caused his brain to go fuzzy. Or maybe it was the way her pussy clenched around him like a perfectly fitted glove. Either or was driving him insane at the moment. His large hands gripped at her ass as he lunged forward some more. “Fuck..” He uttered to himself.

Toji’s eyes looked down at Y/N. He realized how beautiful Y/N looked right now. Her fucked out expression was a stunning sight to see. Her lip gloss was smudged across her lips, tears spilling out her eyes, and gosh, those moans. They were beautiful to Toji.

Toji would prompt Y/N’s leg on the desk so he could thrust deeper inside her drooling cunt. His larger form hunched over hers as he’s rocking his hips forward in a rhythmic motion. Y/N’s hands flew back to push at Toji’s torso. Her cries echoed in the lecture hall while her briny tears stained her cheeks. “Toji…too much.” Y/N mewled.

Toji chews at his lower lip as he grabs Y/N’s hands to place upon her butt to spread herself wider for him. “It’s too much, but I can feel your pussy squeeze around me with each thrust, so what’s the truth, baby?” He cooed as his hips bucked forward to place kisses upon her cervix.

The only thing Y/N could let out was a string of moans of his name. Her drool decorated the wooden desk below her as he fucked her practically dumb. Which only led to the growing sensational pit forming at the bottom of her abdomen. When Toji glanced down, seeing how Y/N’s pussy swallowed him whole, he was close to telling the woman he was in love.

“Look at that; you’re taking it so well, baby girl.” He praised.

When Toji felt Y/N’s walls clutch around him, he knew he was close to tumbling down with her. His hips rocked into the soft flesh of Y/N’s ass. Toji let out a low groan as he could feel his balls grow heavy and tight. His fingernails dug into her waist as his thrusts grew slowly and sloppier. Toji’s larger frame hunched over as he could feel himself cum. His thick cum splattered upon Y/N’s walls while his mouth uttered an exhausted groan.

“T....” Y/N moaned as she could feel him slowly tug himself out of her. Her chest was rising, and embarrassment waved over her body. The young woman tried to process everything while her legs still felt like a fresh bowl of jello.

Toji had zipped his pants right up. His forearm went up to wipe the sweat that lingered on his forehead. He would lean down, pulling Y/N’s underwear back on her. A cocky smirk displayed on his face as he got a glimpse of his cum dripping out of her addicting cunt.

“You’re so annoying,” Y/N uttered as she turned to face him.

With a cheeky grin on his face, Toji tugged her skirt down. “You love it, though. Now let’s go.” He says as he’s leaning down to collect his book bag and soon extends his hand to her.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked. “Plus, we still have class, you know?”

“I’ll get a doctor to write us a doctor’s note.” Toji bluntly admitted. “Now let’s get some food, and you a plan b.” His index finger tapped at Y/N’s nose, and she could only roll her eyes at his behavior.

“You’re so annoying.” She repeated once again, but she grabbed hold of his hand so he could lead her out of the lecture hall.

It was something about Toji Zenin that caused the young woman’s heart to flutter. But she had to remind herself that getting even more tangled with him would only hurt her in the end.

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lxclerc · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

SUMMARY: a careful girl with a fear of falling finds herself with a certain monegasque determined to prove to her he's here to stay. PAIRING: single mom!reader x charles leclerc WARNING: none, pure fluff. not proofread at all WORD COUNT: 4.8k

NOTE: based off taylor swift's song by the same title!

masterlist

Love, you thought, is far more trouble than it’s worth. You and love never had a good relationship, your only example of it growing up being your parents’ marriage. With a cheating father and an emotionally abusive mother, love, you thought, isn't really all that. From what you’ve seen of it, it’s ugly and painful and full of tears. If this is love, then you want absolutely nothing to do with it.

But not even you is exempted from cupid's cruel arrow, falling for a guy who doesn’t have the courage to catch you, who walked out at the first sign of hardship, leaving you with a baby you don’t know how to care for and a broken heart to nurse. You decided then that love is not worth it. Love is not worth the pain it comes with and you will never subject your daughter to the same broken childhood as you, hiding under the bed with your hands on your ears to try and block out the screaming and the sound of broken glasses downstairs as your parents show you exactly what love is.

Your daughter will never know pain as you did. She will never know abandonment as you did. She will grow up loved and cared for, not walking on eggshells in his own home like you did. Love will never break Sofia’s heart like it did yours.

The first time you met Charles, you were waiting tables, having taken another extra shift for Sofia’s upcoming birthday. He smiled at you so brightly that you had to look away, believing that surely no one can be that happy. There’s far too much ugly in life for anyone to smile that big and that assured. A pretty smile and a pretty face, an expensive watch probably worth triple your paycheck and clothes that fits him too perfectly. You already know the likes of him and you’re quick to stay clear away.

Charles Leclerc is love. You knew that the first time you met him. He is the type of love that makes you feel as though you’re floating on a cloud of happiness only to come crashing down in even smaller broken pieces. You know it all too well and you decided then and there that you will not be love’s next victim. For this one, you’re more than happy to sit it out.

But you’re only human after all. After weeks and weeks of him coming in everyday with you avoiding him, you figured you might as well get it over with now. Is he here for you? You aren’t sure. Do you want him to be here for you? No, you told yourself repeatedly. But are you entirely too curious for your own good, unable to let something be without wanting to put a microscope on it and observe every nook and cranny? Absolutely. It’s a problem.

So when he entered after the third week, you finally caved and approached his table, armored with your usual neutral smile. You hadn’t missed the way his eyes seemed to widen in surprise as you stood before him. It’s almost adorable if only you hadn’t felt that telltale roar in your chest. You’re quick to school your features, plastering the polite, nearly emotionless smile on your face.

“Hello,” you greet softly, bring out your pad and paper. “What can I get you?”

His cheeks colored pink, realizing he had been staring and he swiftly switched his gaze from your face to the menu in his hands despite already knowing every meal on it. You’re way too pretty, it feels almost suffocating to be this near with you standing over him, your floral perfume attacking his senses. Charles was more than happy to watch you across the room. He doesn’t mind that you never took notice of him or that you never even looked in his direction. It’s a crush, nothing more and nothing less. He was more than ready to just let it pass. But now that you’re standing over him, he can barely breathe.

“How about coffee,” you offered with a small, knowing smile. He’s been staring at the menu for what felt like hours. “Then let me know what you want to get.”

“Okay.” Charles hates coffee. He loves the small, teasing grin forming on your lips though.

He can feel his breath returning to his lungs once you step away, giving him an opportunity to take a deep breath as the scent of her perfume lingered. Charles has raced hundreds of miles per hour, he’s experienced breathless pressure but he’s never experienced the way his heart seemingly wanting to beat out of his chest from the mere smile of a woman. He realized he doesn’t mind it all. There’s a certain kind of adrenaline with being near you, one that he finds himself beginning to get addicted to.

When you return, he’s finally figured out what he wants to order – pancakes with bacon. “I’m Charles, by the way,” he says suddenly, voice thick with a french accent as you jot down his order on your small notepad before he realized that you hadn’t asked nor did you ever indicate that you wanted to know but somehow he wants you to know just so it’d be a little harder for you to forget about him.

The small smile that you gave him was suddenly worth the sudden heat in his cheeks. “I’ll have your pancakes in a few minutes, Charles.”

“Oh – um – yeah, sure. Take your time.” God, he’s absolutely hopeless.

Charles doesn’t ask you out that night nor does he the night after that or any night within that week. You try to convince yourself that you’re relieved, thankful you aren’t being put in an awkward position. You ignore the flutter in your stomach everytime he stutters over his English while talking to you or his cheeks color red everytime you tease him. You ignore that you’ve been giving him the bigger bacon pieces or that you can’t help but glance at him whenever he’s in.

But on a specific Saturday night, what should have been your day off, your defenses crumble. You’re exhausted. You didn’t do as well in your uni finals as you wanted to, your babysitter just quit after she found a much stable job and Sofia had been sick the night before, a bug you’ve obviously caught if your migraine and runny nose is anything to go by. After buying medicine and a few cheap toys to cheer her up along with finding a much more expensive babysitter than your old one, you’re severely lacking on money for this month so you took an extra shift despite your body begging at you not to and it feels as though the entire world is toppling on you.

When Charles came in, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to give him your usual smile – much genuine now, like an old friend greeting another. Instead, your eyes are squinted, attempting to get them to focus on his figure and your body sagging in exhaustion.

“Are you okay?” He asked as soon as you reached his usual table, genuine concern in his eyes and sincerity lacing his voice.

You wanted to cry on the spot. It’s been a while since anyone genuinely asked, not just as a passing question. Sofia is far too young, only three, to notice whenever you feel like everything is too much. You moved away from the small town where your parents reside the moment you were able to and you don’t exactly have time to make friends between balancing your uni work, two side jobs and raising your daughter. All you have are friendly acquaintances and coworkers.

“Y/N?” He asked again, sounding more worried. You hadn’t even realized that tears had begun falling to your cheeks. You felt pathetic as you stood before him, crying like a teenager and looking like a mess. If he was ever interested in you before, he’s surely not anymore. You’re a complete mess.

But Charles only looks worried as he stands up, immediately wrapping you in his arms as your silent tears begin to get louder, turning into full on sobs as you break apart, all of your exhaustion and worries finally pushing you over. Thankfully, no one else is at the restaurant, only two tables filled with uni students who don't seem to care about your current breakdown.

Charles took notice of your feverish skin, but he doesn’t say anything as he allows you to sob to his chest. Your arms, which were previously tucked to your sides, reach to wrap around his torso till you’re clutching at him, allowing him to keep you grounded. For the first time since the start of the day, you don’t feel as though you’re about to fall over as you leaned onto him.

“You’re sick,” he says as you finally calm down. “I’ll take you home.”

You’re quick to shake your head, however. You’re both sitting in the booth now, you by the window and him next to you. You’re still leaning against him and his arms are still around you as you try your best to stop crying. “My shift doesn’t end till seven. I can’t leave yet.”

You really really want to though, but you also don’t want Charles to remove his arms from around you. And even then, you have your other job to get to – delivering for a small pizzeria till midnight.

Silence enveloped the two of you again till Charles spoke up. Checking his watch, he realized it’s only five in the afternoon, only two more hours till your shift ends. Gently removing his arms from around you, he stood up. “You just take orders, right?”

“Yes.”

“You stay here and rest, I’ll do it and then I’ll take you home.” He grabbed the pen and notepad you placed on the table.

You want to start crying again. It’s been so long since you felt taken care of that it feels foreign to you. “Charles, I can’t let you do that.”

“I’m offering,” he says with a smile. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Despite yourself, you managed a small smirk. “Are you telling me I look bad?”

“Never.” He said it as though he can’t believe you even asked. “You are Aphrodite.”

And with that, he turned away, leaving you with your heart beating against your chest and a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. And when he turned to you, that smile on his face and that look in his eyes, you cursed yourself. He is friendship, definitely. He might be love, if you let him be. But he is not nothing. He will never be nothing.

Charles wasn’t the best at taking orders, but he did try and it’s obvious barely anyone can resist his charming smile despite the often confusion in his voice. Eventually though, your coworker must have felt bad, saying that you can go early and she’d cover your shift, a small friendly smile on her face as Charles lit up.

You try to keep your eyes on the drive as he drives you to your apartment, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach whenever he’d throw a glance at you. You thought it’s unfair for him to look so beautiful bathed in darkness, nothing but the streetlights lighting his face. You try not to think about how he smiled at the customers as he did your job and the way he kept checking at you. You try to forget the feeling inside his car as he insisted on taking you home, watching the way his hands gripped the steering wheel in an attempt to stop yourself from watching him.

When you arrived in front of your building, you expected him to drop you off and leave but Charles insisted on walking you to your door. After everything he’s done for you, you decide against arguing.

Your door flew open before you could even insert the key, your daughter’s smiling face greeting you. You try not to get self conscious over the clear surprise in Charles’ face, the child before him’s features uncannily similar to yours.

“Maman!” Sofia called happily, barreling against your legs. “You’re home early.”

You try not to get self conscious over the clear surprise in Charles’ face as you kneel before your daughter to return her hug, the child before him’s features uncannily similar to yours.

“You are Aphrodite,” he told you earlier. Will he still think so knowing you have a daughter?

“Hi, angel. This is my friend Charles.”

At the mention of his name, Charles did as you did and kneeled before Sofia, the little girl’s bright smile removing the confusion on his face and replacing it with a smile of his own as he offered his hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you, pretty little lady.”

“Heureux de vous rencontrer aussi.” your daughter said proudly, her small hand holding Charles’. Her French is definitely much much better than yours, practically as good as her english. Unlike you, who moved to Monaco already as an adult, Sofia was born and raised here. “Je m'appelle Sofia.” Nice to meet you too…My name is Sofia.

Charles’ smile widens from her perfect French. “Vous avez un beau nom, Sofia.” You have a beautiful name, Sofia.

Your daughter practically preens over his praise, her smile widening, showcasing her toothless grin.

“Vos yeux sont vraiment jolis,” she says shyly, making the monegasque let out a small laugh. Your eyes are really pretty.

“Yours are prettier I think.”

You can see him practically falling in love with your daughter, his eyes shining under her bright smile. It wouldn’t be the first time. Nearly everyone Sofia meets, she manages to charm, having them wrapped around her little finger without them even realizing it.

Your daughter blushes, now completely beaming at Charles. “Do you want to play with me, Cha?”

“Honey, it’s pretty late,” you interrupt, joining in on their conversation. You don’t want to bother Charles more than you already have. “I’m sure Charles has somewhere to be.”

“I actually don’t have plans for tonight,” the monegasque interrupts and the smile he gives your daughter is enough to melt your heart. “I’d love to play with you, Sofia. Only if your mum is okay with it, of course.”

At that, Sofia turns to you with her best puppy eyes, lips a little pouty as she presses her hands together. “Maman, s'il te plaît, s'il te plaît. Cha peut jouer avec moi ?” Mum, please, please. Can Cha play with me?

You were torn. The thought of letting Charles in more than you’ve already had terrifies you along with your daughter growing attached to him only for him to be a temporary thing. Love, you realize, terrifies you and love is in his eyes as he awaits your answer. Love is in his smile for your daughter. Love is in the way he’s looking at you.

But with the two of them looking at you like that, how can you ever say no? As you hesitantly nod your head, you try to convince yourself that this will lead to nothing, just an odd night that won’t become anything more.

And as the two of them shared a victorious smile, sharing a small high five in celebration, you know you’re lying to yourself.

“Only for a while though,” you say slowly. “I have work tomorrow and I’m sure Charles does too.”

The conditions don't matter as Sofia nods her head, still grinning as she pulls Charles into her room, barely giving you or Charles to say anything else. Heaving a sigh, you continue inside. Your head is still spinning and your vision hazy as you send home the babysitter.

You can hear Sofia’s excited voice from her room along with Charles’ voice and you wonder since when you’ve become so trusting that you’ve let your daughter be alone with a man. Wondering if you should follow them, you decide against it. Instead, you open her bedroom door, smiling at the two of them, so you can see inside from your place on the cough. They both sat on the floor, Sofia introducing Charles to her dolls and Charles nodding along as though all of it made sense.

Somewhere along watching them have a tea party, your exhaustion won against you as you fell asleep on the couch, Sofia and Charles’ laughter being the last thing you remembered. You dream of boys with french accents and light green eyes smiling at you.

It must have been a few hours when you woke up, Charles gently shaking your shoulder. Immediately, with a little rest, you already feel much better than you had a few hours ago, your head still spinning but significantly less.

“Sofia’s asleep,” he tells you as you sit up, him sitting next to you.

“Thank you so much for everything and I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you today–” you start but Charles places a hand on your arm, a soft smile on his face.

“You didn’t cause me any trouble at all, ma belle. And I enjoyed spending time with your daughter,” he assures you.

You nod your head, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and not knowing what else to say as a silence falls between the two of you.

“So there’s her,” you can’t help but explain even though you know you shouldn’t. “I got pregnant at 19. Her father is out of the picture. I know what it looks like. A young, single mum working two jobs just to keep a roof–”

Charles leaned in, pressing his lips on yours. And for a moment, you sat still, eyes open with your lips pressed against his, frozen as everything about him – his scent, his touch, his lips – attacks your senses. For the first time in a while, your brain shuts down, the million things always running in your mind disappearing.

It was when Charles hesitated, beginning to pull back, that you returned to yourself, hand reaching forward to clutch at his shirt and pull him towards you as you kissed him back with the same vigor, the same softness. A careful girl with a fear of falling but in that moment, you’ve never feared anything more than him letting you go.

He pulls back just enough, barely half an inch between the two of you as your foreheads touch. “I’m in, my Aphrodite. I’m all in.”

But of course, you revert to your fear now that his lips aren't on yours. Charles is love but before him, you knew a different kind of love, one that was ugly and angry and sad. “For now.”

“For as long as you want me,” he promised.

—

Your relationship with Charles is like breathing, it came effortlessly. Sometimes, it feels as though he can look into your soul and know exactly what you need. He’s patient and kind and whenever he smiles at you, it feels as though you can take on anything.

On the other hand, Charles and Sofia seem to hit it off better than the two of you, becoming inseparable whenever Charles isn’t away at his races. And even then, Sofia would be begging you to call him. She watches every race, celebrating every wins and every loses as though it’s wins, congratulating Charles so enthusiastically you’d think he won a world championship. In Sofia’s eyes, Charles is a superhero who can do no wrong.

And selfishly, it makes life so much easier for you. With Charles around and Sofia always tailing him, you get more chances to study for your exams and focus on work. You have more time to focus on uni and actually learning something rather than just passing.

“Tu es sûr que tu ne veux pas mettre quelqu'un d'autre ?” You hear Charles ask Sofia from the living room. “You can put someone famous.” Are you sure you don't want to put anyone else?

“You are famous,” you hear your daughter’s voice.

Shutting your textbook, you found the two of them sat on the floor. Charles crossed legged and Sofia on his lap, the small coffee table filled with crayons and paper. You walk over to them, planting a kiss on Sofia’s forehead and sharing a small one with Charles. “What’s going on here?”

“Mummy, who’s your favorite hero?” Your daughter asked excitedly, making you think.

“I don’t know, baby,” you admit. “Spiderman maybe. Who’s yours?”

“Charles!” Sofia didn’t even hesitate as she proudly said it and you can immediately see the way Charles’s cheeks tinted red.

“I told her to choose someone else,” Your boyfriend immediately explains. “But she refuses.”

You’re quiet for a moment. Sofia adores Charles more than anything and deep in your heart, you know Charles adores her just as much and try as you did, your fears and doubts always follow you. Questions often fill your head whenever you see them like this. What if this doesn’t work out? What if Charles leaves? What if he decides he’s had enough of you? You wouldn’t just be breaking your heart, but Sofia’s as well.

As a mother, you always question if you’re doing the right thing. Was it right to immediately introduce Charles to Sofia as your boyfriend? Was it right to let your daughter be as attached to him as she is now? Had you moved too fast?

You force a smile on your face as you face Charles. “It’s okay.”

But Charles knows you well and that night, with Sofia tucked in bed and snoring the night away, as he slipped onto the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around yours and your back hitting his chest, he knows something is wrong.

“Talk to me,” he says. “Please.”

You lay motionless for a while, trying to articulate your thoughts without offending him. “My parents never loved each other. They fought and screamed and threw things at each other. It was horrible and I hated every moment of it. Their hatred for each other was more important than I ever was. Sofia’s father and I never loved each other and at the first sign of trouble, he fled. I know what it’s like to be darned by love. I know what it’s like to be unloved and abandoned. I don’t want Sofia to know that, Charles.”

He was quick to catch on to what you were trying to say.

“I’m not leaving,” he said. “I love Sofia and I love you. I’m here till you want me here. We’ll never make your parents’ mistakes.”

You feel tears pricking your eyes as you shift to face him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine, Charles Leclerc.”

—

The first time you appeared on the paddock, it was the first race of the 2022 season in Bahrain. You’ve been dating Charles for a year by then with him already having posted pictures of the two of you. You’ve moved in together and have met his family whom you deeply adore.

Sofia especially adores Arthur. The first time you met, you’re sure your daughter had developed a crush of sorts on the youngest Leclerc, her usual boisterous charm becoming more timid as she practically blushes at everything Arthur says. Charles absolutely despised having to share her attention, giving the rest of you entertainment as he spent the entire weekend of your family vacation convincing Sofia that she loves him most.

And though Charles has asked, you requested that he doesn’t post pictures of her, terrified of what his rabid fans would say about your daughter. What they say about you, you can handle but you’re not quite sure you’ll be able to handle. Charles was respectful of your wishes but of course, upon searching you up, people found out about Sofia anyways. Thankfully, there’s very very few bad things said about her from Charles’ fans and you don’t particularly go around searching for them.

For Sofia’s 4th birthday though, her wish was clear and simple; to be able to go with Charles to a grand prix. And quite frankly, neither of you had the heart to tell her no and so you decide it’s as good a time as ever.

And so with that, the three of you step into the paddock, Sofia wearing a Ferrari shirt Charles had made especially for her as she walks between the two of you, holding both your hands. The clicks of the many many cameras can be heard as you three walk towards the Ferrari motorhome. A few fans stop you to take a picture with Charles with the monegasque easily agreeing though never letting go of Sofia’s hand.

Halfway through your walk to the motorhome however, Sofia tagged lightly on Charles’ shirt, asking to be picked up to which he easily agrees to, his hand now clasping yours.

“Where’s uncle Arthur?” Your daughter asks.

You smile at her, pushing her hair back. “I’m sure he’s busy with his own race, mon amour.”

Many more rounds of pictures were taken with Charles now having your daughter on his hip that you’re sure will be spread all over the internet. Most fans even greeted her, making Sofia smile widely.

Eventually though, you reach his drivers room after being introduced to the entire team, all of them fist bumping your daughter as Charles introduces every mechanic one by one.

Charles places Sofia down once the door closes behind you, needing to get ready for some press and the drivers parade. He plants a kiss on her forehead. “Be good for mummy, okay?”

At that, Sofia’s eyebrows creased together, realizing he’s going to be leaving as her hand immediately clutched at his shirt. “I thought I’ll be with you?”

“You will be,” Charles calmly explained, tucking a strand of hair that fell from her braid behind her ear. “But I’ve got work to do first and then I’ll come back to you immediately.”

But your daughter only shakes her head. “No, I wanna go with you.”

“Sofi,” you start, trying to gently pull her away from him. “Charles is at work right now. We’re just here to support him but he needs to focus on his work. Kind of like when you need to focus when doing your homeworks.”

But still, she adamantly shakes her head, shaking your touch away as she all but runs into his arms. “No, I wanna go with daddy.”

You practically choke on air as you heard her words, Charles’ eyes immediately widening and as he turned to you in panic. The entire year you’ve been dating, this would be the first time she ever outright called him her dad. Of course, the sentiment has always been there. He stepped up as a father figure in her life and she’s always treated him as one but she’s only ever called him either by his name or ‘Cha’.

You and Charles have talked about it though as he expressed to you how much he wants her to. You can see the happiness in his eyes now as he hugs her to his chest, practically melting at her little declaration.

You think he might cry as he clears his throat and you can’t help the way your heart bursts in happiness at the sight. “Alright, pretty little lady. You can stay with me but you have to behave as daddy works, alright?”

Immediately, a big smile breaks across her face as she eagerly nods her head. Charles faces you, his own smile big and tears pooling at his eyes as he wraps you up in a hug, discreetly wiping his tears away. Neither of you say anything, only sharing a small kiss.

“We’ll be back,” he tells you and you only nod your head as Sofia plants her own kiss on your cheek. You smile as they exit his drivers room.

A TV shows the media pen outside and you watched as Charles walked out with Sofia in his arms, his media manager directing him towards an interviewer.

“Charles Leclerc, first race of the season, how are you feeling?” The interviewer asked, making your boyfriend smile.

“I’m feeling very very good,” your boyfriend answered with no hesitation. “The car is good, the team worked hard and I believe we really have a chance at the championship this year.”

“And of course, it must be nice to have the support of your family today.”

Charles’ smile widens. “Yes, especially with this one around.” He plants a kiss on Sofia’s temple, making her smile at him. “She gives me a lot of motivation to win.”

“How do you think he’ll do today, little lady?”

Sofia immediately perks up as the mic is turned to her. “Daddy is going to win!”

Despite the obvious surprise from drivers, interviewers and staff alike at her statement, nearly everyone laughs.

“There you have it,” Charles says with a chuckle.

As it turns out, Sofia was right because that day, Ferrari won with a 1-2 with Charles getting P1, making you, Sofia and everyone else in the garage cheer. When Charles greets you both after exiting his car, he claims the two of you are his good luck charms and for the first time in your life, love no longer terrifies you.

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#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fluff

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adnauseum11 · 3 months

Text

Bottom Line Up Front (John Price x Reader)

Kate updates John on what her reconnaissance has uncovered.

1k words

CW: swearing, allusion to past sexual assault

feedback welcome!

Kate checks the incoming number on her ringing cell before swiveling away from her computer screen and answering. Her favourite current retiree is checking in, right on schedule, saving her a call.

“John, how are things?”

“Alright Kate, any news there?” John asks, paused at a stop light after dropping his love off at work.

“Yeah, actually. Let’s start with if you’re aware that there’s a photo of you and your lady on the internet, shall we?”

Kate asks, already knowing the answer.

“What?”

It gets John’s full attention. He’s navigating back to his love’s place, and nearly misses his turn at Kate’s revelation.

“Yeah, were you at a pub recently?”

“A few.” John stays cagey, unused to his habits off duty being under a microscope.

“Well, there is one over on Beecher’s Lane using a photo of you and a woman to advertise online.”

“Ah Christ, I knew that was trouble. She does trivia nights with her mates there.” He says by way of explanation.

He leaves out the part about her triumphant face at finally making it on to the leader board swaying his better judgement about the photo. Years of scrupulous image control to maintain his professionalism undone a few months into dating. Bloody hell.

“Well, they scanned it and posted it up. I can see why though, she’s very pretty. Well done, John. I can see why you kept her to yourself.”

“Alright, easy, you’re happily married Kate.”

John reminds her, a wave of possessiveness sweeping through him.

“Yeah, married but not dead.”

“She’s spoken for.” John growls, navigating a roundabout while Kate irritates him from afar.

“Obviously. I did some digging on my end on the name you gave. It’s come back with some colourful info. He’s ex-army, dishonorable discharged for sexual assault years ago. He’s done contract work in the past; one was with some of Col. Norris’ men. Ring any bells on that name?”

John’s processing as he drives, a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Of course, you think there’s more of a connection there?”

John’s memory of threatening the Colonel is clear as day, although it had been years and a long road since that incident. The mention of sexual assault has him tightening his grip on the steering wheel unconsciously.

“Norris is involved in the contract you turned down, that Gaz is on right now. Not sure yet, it is unusual that there would be a connection for a random B&E. I’m going to keep poking around. Certainly, it feels off. Your instincts remain sound, Captain.” Kate acknowledges John’s talent for uncovering bullshit.

John hums, internally thankful he’s already on his way to his love’s place to poke around and doubly grateful he turned down the contract weeks ago. He adds stopping by the pub to his list of errands.

“He didn’t put up much of a fight when I got there. You say he’s ex-army?”

“Well, personally, I think your reputation may have preceded you. If connection to you is what brought attention on her, they’d be looking to confirm they have the right woman, not rob her. He likely would have known you on sight, probably chose the best course of action to preserve his neck in the moment when the wrong person turned up.”

John’s blood runs cold as he pulls into his love's driveway. He idles in the car, staring at the door and the busted doorhandle, still unfixed, as dread sits like lead in his stomach. John’s done too much to be naïve to the potential outcomes.

“You think someone wants to leverage her against me? Norris?” John’s putting the information together quickly, following instincts.

“Maybe. You’ve certainly given him no reason to like you, and he could be harbouring a grudge for the way his men were treated. He’s got an ego and a chip on his shoulder. Like I said, I’m going to keep flipping stones. There’s nothing solid there yet.”

John sighs, scratching his cheek before replying.

“Alright, thanks Kate. I’d hate to be right on this, but better to get ahead of it. Maybe let Gaz know something is up, if it’s connection to me they’re after. Better safe than sorry.”

“Already in motion. In the meantime, it goes without saying that I would encourage you to keep her away from the apartment.”

Kate swivels back to her computer, a notification blinking in the bottom corner.

“She won’t be going back. She’s moving out.”

“You found a place that quickly? Impressive, John.”

Kate’s tone is vaguely distracted as she reads the incoming message.

“She’s moved in with me.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the line for a moment. John has a feeling he has her full attention once again.

“Well, I suppose that makes sense, but that’s moving faster than I would have expected from a bachelor like yourself, Captain. What’s next, going to marry her before spring rolls around?”

John presses his lips together in exasperation. Kate is teasing but there’s a vein of incredulity running underneath her comments that John can hear. He can’t totally blame her; this part of his life had been strictly off-limits. For the exact reason unfolding now, to his immense frustration. From the outside looking in, it would look like sudden madness, he’s sure. On some level, he wonders if it is, a man like him trying to retire into a normal life.

“I don’t need time to get to know her Kate, I’ve known her forever.” John reminds her. “Christ, you’re making me miss dealing with Simon. He doesn’t ask this many questions.”

“Who do you think found the photo, John?”

He finally turns the car off, exhaling into the phone.

“Jesus Christ, Kate.”

“He was concerned that you were slipping, letting that get posted. He’ll be relieved to know you sniffed this out.”

“Him and I both. Keep me posted on what else you find.”

John’s back to giving orders he’s no longer got any business giving and Kate humours him, the stress in his voice evident to her long-trained ear.

“Rog that, John. You keep yourselves safe until we get more details.”

Next Chapter

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#fanfic #call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #friends to lovers #john price x f!reader #john price x you #captain price #kate laswell #reconnaissance

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turtletaubwrites · 6 days

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 19

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 3885

Ao3 Link

Summary: You reveal your secret.

Author's Note: Thank you soo much for all of the support and encouragement, especially with the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one! 😭💜🙏🏼 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Vaginal Fingering, PIV Sex, Hair-Pulling, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

“Can I have a drink?”

Four powerful pirates blinked at you.

It was strange to be on this side of the coffee table. Buggy sat in your spot on the couch between the other leaders of the Guild, while Shanks had pulled up a chair beside Crocodile.

Your green, velvet chair felt like an examination table. Like you were under a microscope, about to get chopped into tiny pieces to be studied.

Buggy had clung to you all morning, barely going a moment without touching you during breakfast. You were grateful he hadn’t tried to feed you any fruit. That thought sent your eyes flicking toward the red haired pirate, more bile climbing up your throat. Buggy’s floating hand rested on yours while they all stared, but you couldn’t get yourself to hold onto it.

“What would you like to–”

“I’ll get it,” you jumped up, cutting Mihawk off, and leaving Buggy’s hand to float alone when you pushed it away to stand. The little bar felt like miles away, and you grabbed the first thing you could see. Crocodile’s stinky scotch in its pretty crystal bottle. You poured a heaping glass, vaguely hearing a reaction from the couch before you chugged the burning liquor.

“What the fuck, baby?”

“Y/N, stop!”

“Don’t— rabbit!”

The three of them surrounded you, snagging the bottle and empty glass from your hands too late while you coughed from that toxic, liquid fire. Crocodile got to you first, kneeling out from the sand at your feet to grab your flushed face, wiping away the stinging tears that you knew wouldn’t be the last.

“Sweetheart, why–”

“Sweetheart,” you choked out, the sound a mix between a laugh and a sob. “Gods, I’m sorry, I– fuck.”

The looks on their faces made you want to scream. You rubbed your eyes with the meat of your palms, trying to be less fucking pathetic.

“Drink, love,” Mihawk soothed, holding a glass of water to your lips.

“We’re right here, star,” Buggy whispered as he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s okay,” Crocodile promised, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re our Numbers Girl, no matter what. Alright?”

Your body slumped, nodding as you let them guide you back under that microscope. Shanks was staring at you, but nothing meant anything anymore, so you didn’t bother to study his face.

They let you sit there. Time was empty. It could have been minutes or years before you finally mustered up the energy to ruin everything.

“I’m fucking stupid,” you announced with a sharp laugh, feeling insane.

Maybe I am. Maybe he did put me away.

“Don’t talk like tha–”

“What do you mean, sweet girl?”

“You.”

Growling at your scarred lover, confessions, and a suicidal accusation flowed through your body, spilling out through your eyes and lips.

“You were going to kill us if I wasn’t useful. I could have been free, but I… I called those people for you.”

Crocodile’s face was as cold and unmoving as stone, a cliff you could leap off of.

If only you could have stopped. No one said a word, but the energy was already rolling through you, destroying everything, your throat still raw from that fucking scotch.

“I was an idiot. I was fucking kidding myself thinking I could wait, thinking I could have a few more days.” Your manic laughter turned to pain, a sob hitting your last words.

Glancing up at the couch, you saw your three men clenching their jaws. Crocodile’s arm was wrapped around Buggy, that large hand digging into Mihawk’s shoulder, while Mihawk had grabbed Buggy’s floating hand, gripping it in his own lap before it could fly to you.

“There’s no way I could hide it. Someone at the party will say it…”

“Say what,” Buggy rasped after a long moment.

Your eyes poured over your men one more time before it was over.

“My name.”

Everyone paused, and you remembered Shanks was there. His face was a mask, unreadable, and you were grateful for another reason to ignore it.

“Are you saying that your name is a lie,” Crocodile asked in a dangerous purr.

“No. None of you ever asked what my last name was,” you pointed out, then laughed as you looked between them. “I guess pirates don’t really care about last names.”

The laughter died in your throat, tears streaming now in your moment of defeat.

“What’s your name,” Mihawk asked, his voice more gentle than you’d ever heard.

It’s over.

“Y/N Sylvad.”

…

“Like the wood company?”

You clamped your hands over your mouth, the shock of laughter that burst through you at Buggy’s confused face, his cute question, almost had you believing it would be alright.

But the other men in the room shifted. Crocodile pulled his arm away from the other two to rest his elbows on his knees, leaning toward you while he answered his clown.

“Not a company. A fucking empire. Sylvad’s Lumber and Shipping. Is that what you’re telling us right now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, already watching their eyes change. Already watching them forget who you were.

“Keep going,” he ordered, his words cold, ice building up around you.

“It’s not mine,” you begged them to believe you. “Dad died and…”

You couldn’t. You didn’t know where to start, or if it even mattered now.

“Arbo Sylvad was your dad,” Shanks murmured, sitting up a little straighter while he studied you.

“You’re Sylvad’s heiress.”

“No, I'm not,” you snapped at Mihawk, not caring when his golden eyes flared at you. “Uncle Cedrick got everything. Dad always said it would go to… I was fifteen when he…”

Crocodile’s silver eyes were like molten metal, and you choked on your grief as you watched him stand. He walked to that giant desk of his, and when he returned to drop your thick notebook in your lap, you flinched, bracing for pain.

“Unreliable,” he growled, tapping the notebook with his hook as he brought his eyes down to yours, his frightening face so close.

“Everything I said was true,” you pleaded, mind blanking out with fear while Mihawk came to touch Crocodile’s shoulder. He didn’t budge, and though your mouth went dry, you forced yourself to explain. “Those people are unreliable! They'd talk to people that could cause problems for the Guild. People with connections to the Marine’s.”

“Like your Uncle?”

“What do you mean, boss,” Buggy tried to redirect, his hand on the hook that was digging into the back of the chair, his body leaning against the larger man’s shoulder. “They just sell trees and stuff, right?”

“Every single Marine ship on the fucking water right now was built with Sylvad wood,” Crocodile fumed, Mihawk’s hand stroking along his arm as you shrank beneath those silver eyes. “Hells, almost every ship that sails out of Water 7 is built with that lumber.”

“I don’t get it,” Shanks complained from his chair, though you couldn’t see him past the angry man in front of you. “If you’re the heiress of Sylvad’s, why were you working? You were an accountant or something, right?”

“Investment banker,” Buggy bragged, and you almost smiled that he remembered. “My girl’s a fancy financial advisor.”

“Let’s give our girl some breathing room, Crocodile. We don’t know everything yet.”

You only heard Mihawk’s whispered words because Crocodile was a hair's breadth away. He brought his thumb to rub along one of your cheeks, and the back of his hook to smooth along the other.

“Tell daddy everything, alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes fluttered shut until he pressed into your cheeks, slow tears falling from your eyes when you nodded for him.

“Yes, daddy.”

The warm kiss he pressed to your temple made you want to disappear. Nothing. Nothing ever again.

You were barely there as the words fell from your lips. Eyes unfocused, hanging loosely around the little table by Mihawk’s seat. You smiled to yourself when you realized it looked strange without a glass of wine on it.

“Dad died on a business trip. Freak storm. Left everything to Uncle Cedrick. Kat and I got our trust funds for school. Mom got nothing.”

“I think we’ll need more than that, little rabbit,” Mihawk cautioned as he glanced over at Crocodile's stern face.

“Can I have a drink fir–”

“No,” said the three men on the couch.

Holding your head in your hands for a bit, you tried to figure out how to say the least amount of painful words to get them to leave you alone.

“Uncle took us in. He was such a caring person, taking in his brother’s poor daughters, his lonely wife,” you spat, venom dripping from your lips. “I didn’t want to belong to him. My trust fund paid for the best education out there, but all my friends stopped… When they knew I had nothing to give them, they treated me like shit. I kept doing what I'm good at, and I got the fuck out. Went to go live that stupid, boring life.”

Growling with the frustration of spilling this pathetic, entitled trash, you stood to pace behind your chair, waving your notebook around as if you could make it burst into flames with your will alone.

“I am fucking amazing at my job, but most of these people just looove the thought of the poor little heiress helping them get richer. Most of them can’t wait to put me in their little collection. Add me to their fucking shelf. Just gotta ask Uncle how much his little niece– FUCK!”

The notebook went flying, skidding across the floor while you shoved the heavy chair over, yelling, raging, kicking that stupid green chair until your shoes fell off, your toes fucking hurt, until your clown stopped you.

“Baby, please,” he soothed, his upper body floating to keep your struggling form from reaching anything on the ground to hit. “It’s okay, star, I’m right here. Fuck those assholes, right? Who needs ‘em!”

Part of you felt guilty for not laughing at his sweet attempt, but the rest of you needed to fight or flee.

Flee from these powerful men that were already using you to make money.

“Put me down!”

Buggy’s whispered, “star,” hurt like hell. You held yourself still when he set you down gently, back in your spot as you faced the couch again, although your chair was kicked off to the side.

“Wanna know how high to set the ransom,” you challenged, your clenched fists shaking at your sides. You couldn’t think clearly enough to read their darkened eyes, even Buggy’s as he took his place between them. “Just so you know, Uncle doesn’t like me that much. He’d probably be happier if you killed me. Or you could buy me, that’d make him extra hap–”

Sand.

Sand flooded the space around you. It lifted you off the ground, and your breath caught as the coffee table got thrown to the side. You met those silver eyes just before you were in his arms, your legs stretched across the laps of the other men on the couch.

“What…” you wondered, mind in a daze.

“You thought I’d sell my sweet girl,” Crocodile hummed, kissing the top off your head.

“You told me you would,” you reminded, your body and mind feeling distant, separate from whatever this strange world had become. “How much am I worth? Just keep being valuable, useful? You were already gonna sell me or kill me before you knew what a goldmine I was.”

The icy anger that laced your words made every hand on you go still. Crocodile froze as he started to rock you, and your body couldn’t choose between guilt at hurting them, or anger and fear at what they would do.

“I think I’m drunk,” you whispered, wanting them to let you go, and wishing that they never would.

“No shit,” Buggy laughed, “I’m surprised you’re alive after that.”

His hands started massaging your legs on his lap, rubbing up and down nervously while you closed your eyes.

“Can I go lie down?”

“I’ll take you, star.”

Crocodile and Mihawk’s hands dragged along your skin as Buggy lifted you into the air, but neither stopped him from taking you. Neither stopped him from floating you away.

Neither called you pretty names as you left the room.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“I’ve got you,” Buggy promised.

Getting her onto that giant bed felt like a race. Something was right behind him. Something would stop him.

Something would take her away again.

Finally there, he wrapped his arms around her, leaning against the headboard while her scotch scented breath warmed his chest.

“Your breath stinks, baby.”

Maybe it was a laugh, but that choked sound made his chest tight, like a huge hand was crushing his ribcage.

I can’t do anything. Fucking useless. Can’t help her.

“Buggy…”

“Shh, I’m right here, star,” he promised. The sound of his name on those quivering lips sent fire, rage, and guilt straight through him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could never leave her. He could never leave her with them after this. Even if they…

Buggy kissed her temple, trying to be soothing while he waited for them to crash through the door.

Waited for them to take her from him.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Not a sound.

Not a sound filled the air as the men in the lounge sat with the news that their little lover was the heiress of Sylvad’s.

Not a sound from the two men on the couch as her accusations weighed on them, as though she hadn’t left their laps with those angry, frightened tears in her eyes.

“That sure is something,” Shanks whistled softly. He stood to pick up Y/N’s chair, sitting across from them. “What are you gonna do with—“

“Find somewhere else to be,” Crocodile fumed, his body vibrating with the need to hurt something.

Shanks nodded, giving a crooked smile, before leaving them alone. Mihawk stared after his old friend, images of comfort he couldn’t provide burning behind his eyes.

He’s going to take them both.

Serves us right.

Crocodile’s angry huff pulled Mihawk out of those thoughts, watching the man stomp toward the bar. The coffee table his sand had moved laid in his path, until it splintered and scattered from the touch of his vicious foot in that lovely shoe.

The swordsman floated after him, still in a daze while the larger man imitated their girl, chugging a glass of scotch.

Mihawk stared, but didn’t speak, didn’t touch.

Crocodile set the glass down before he shattered another one.

“She lied—“

“Can you blame her,” Mihawk laughed coldly while the other man paced. Silver eyes shot like daggers, but Mihawk couldn’t seem to care about anything at the moment. “She told the truth, just not all—“

“She didn’t trust me.”

He sat again, staring at the floor after those stupid words had left him.

“I don’t…” Mihawk started, pushing himself to move, pushing himself to try. He sat down, and touched a hand to Crocodile’s shoulder, leaving it there after his scarred lover flinched. “We haven’t given her much reason to, have we?”

Not a sound after that.

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Y/N! You can’t just leave,” Kat reasoned, pulling the clothes out of your hands before you could stuff them into your suitcase. “What about mom? What about the company?”

“Mom made her choices,” you growled, pulling the clothes back from your sister’s shaky hands. “And I don’t care about the fucking company. It’s not mine.”

“Not if—“

“It’s not mine. I’m sick of this fucking life. I’m getting out.”

“... What about me?”

That stopped you. But only for a moment.

“I’m sure he’d let you come if—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” she shouted, pushing you toward your messy suitcases. “He’s a pirate! If he doesn’t hurt you before, what do you think he’ll do when he finds out who you are?”

“I don’t care,” you fumed as you stared your little sister down. “I'm bored of this stupid life.”

Kat’s mouth hung open, the hurt and pain in her eyes making you want to take it all back, to beg for forgiveness.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t waste this chance to be free.

“You really have a death wish, you know that? That clown is going to get you killed,” Kat breathed, her voice growing colder as she turned to leave. She didn’t look back when she said her goodbye, just waved her hand over her shoulder. “I’ll look out for the ransom note.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Sleep?

Sleep.

Burning sleep, and stormy seas.

Dad’s voice calling for you.

You could never find him before the ship went under, before all that Sylvad wood splintered beneath the raging waves.

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buzz off, idiot,” Buggy ordered in a harsh whisper, Shanks’ smiling face peeking through the cracked door. Buggy had left his body on the bed to hold Y/N as she whimpered, nightmares ruining her scotch and stress induced nap.

His head floated by the door, frowning at his old friend.

“It’ll just be a second, Bugs, I swear.”

Shanks’ smile stretched even wider when Buggy agreed, floating his head out into the corridor.

“This better be good, asshat.”

Shanks felt it. This was it. He could have them both.

He needed them both.

“Let’s take her with us, Bugs.”

Buggy’s look of shock was exaggerated by those red lips of his, and Shanks had to hold himself back from kissing them.

“But she… but it’s dangerous…”

Buggy wasn’t sure he’d actually heard those words, or if he’d fallen asleep, dreaming beside his star. Too many emotions rushed through him, but all he could think about was her.

“Would you rather leave her here with them,” Shanks rasped, his eyes doing that heavy thing they do, although there wasn’t much of Buggy’s body to drag them down. “We can protect her. You and me, Bugs.”

The clown had to fight his body to stay still as he held her in the other room. The need to move, to fidget, to pace, made him dizzy.

“What if she doesn’t wanna go,” Buggy wondered. Images of Y/N smiling, laughing, screaming, flew through his mind, each one making him doubt that he could ever make her as happy as she’d seemed once things had started to settle here.

“I already asked her. I know she’ll say yes. She wants you to be happy, Bugs. Just like I do,” Shanks confessed, brushing a bit of blue hair out of Buggy’s face. He rubbed his thumb across those red, parted lips.

So close to everything.

“When did—“

“Buggy?”

Shanks watched his clown fly away from him, hopeful that it’d be the last time.

Buggy flew away from his old friend, every confusing thought going blank besides the need to comfort that soft, scared voice.

“Right here, got you, baby.”

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buggy,” you whimpered as new tears fell.

“Shh, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Painted lips covered your face, kissing your tears away until you shivered, his soothing hum blocking out everything else.

His touch kept it all at bay.

Every split second of memory was grief, so you curled against him, running your hand along his side. Your body writhed, whining for him as he stroked your hair and back, then pulled away.

“Hey, star, it’s o—“

“Please, touch me, Buggy,” you begged as you reached for him. “I need you so much, I need you…”

Pathetic grief poured back in at the memory of what you’d witnessed last night, but you couldn’t fight your need for him.

“Please, touch me.”

“Just tell me if it’s alright, okay, star," he breathed after pausing to study your face, tracing his fingers along your cheeks.

“Please,” you gasped, his lips on your neck were saving your life. Saving you from your mind.

A touch against Mihawk’s tender bite mark brought the world back, but then Buggy was tearing you both out of your clothes, kissing down your arms, your chest, your stomach. Kissing every inch of your skin until you were crying with need instead of pain.

Begging, begging for more.

“Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, star.”

“Bug—“

Breathy, desperate moans left your throat as his fingers plunged deep inside you, and he swallowed the rest of your sounds in a wild kiss. His tongue was eating, tasting, and you almost laughed into his mouth at the memory of scotch, until his free hand found your clit.

The fingers inside you were perfect, knowing exactly what you needed. Finding that spot, giving you steady touches that built in pressure and speed until you were clenching around his fingers, body shaking with pleasure and gratitude.

“So beautiful,” Buggy praised, his voice full of a quiet awe as he smiled down at you. “You okay, baby?”

“Fuck me, Buggy,” you pleaded as your weak arms failed to pull him closer. “I need you inside me. Need to feel you.”

His eyes were wide, concerned, but he smiled when he kissed you.

Smiled when he gave you everything you needed.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

How?

How can she be real?

How can she want me this much?

Want me after everything…

Buggy pushed those thoughts aside as he smoothed his ungloved hands down her body.

Hands that he felt safe letting her touch. Just like his bare face that he could let her see.

He let out his own soft, needy noise as he watched her writhe and squirm, begging for him to touch her.

“Fuck,” he hissed, just the touch of her perfect, dripping pussy against his sensitive tip was too much. Too much as he lined himself up.

“Look at me, Buggy,” Y/N cried out, her watery eyes swallowing him whole, just as he sank his cock deeper and deeper. He couldn’t hold in his moans at the pure fucking bliss that she held inside her, that she let him feel.

“Look at me, please.”

Buggy kept his eyes on hers, her request setting off alarm bells in his mind that he had to shut down, throw out.

She wants to look at me like this. She wants to see my face. There’s only one per—

“Buggy! I’m close, please,” she panicked, reaching up into his hair, pulling gently as her breathing went ragged. “Need to feel you, want you so bad.”

“I want you too, star, I’m right— oh gods, baby. Fuck, you feel soo good…”

Y/N screamed his name.

His name.

Over and over while he shoved his cock as far as he could go, claiming that sweet, warm pleasure she let him take.

Y/N pulled him in, her body made to take his come, made to milk him, to drain him, to let him fuck it back into her while she babbled, while her eyes crossed, while that cute little tongue hung out of her perfect lips.

All for him.

Still sunk deep inside her, Buggy soothed and calmed her frantic noises, kissing her temple.

“I love you so much. My shining star.”

What a feeling to say those words. What a feeling to mean them. To have someone to say them to.

“I love you, Buggy. I love you so much.”

What a feeling.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I've been so nervous to add anything new to this world. I hope you don't mind some back story. And some Buggy time 😭😭😭

Part 20

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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