#and i logged into it and i saw a pair of signs

[celestiachan]

If I had a nickel for every time I took a nap against my will today and had a dream that someone killed themself, I'd have two nickels. It isn't a lot but what the fuck

[jeanbie]

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

pairing: jake x reader

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

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

★ ⏤ sequel to fantasize

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here we go,” Norm sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you laugh in reply. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grace eyeballs you curiously, as does Norm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is quite literally perfect news.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Norm inches closer and takes a massive inhale.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is it even safe? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” she asks.

Jake nods. “My iknimaya is tomorrow morning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yep. The yearning has definitely persisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanna go to your party,” you say.

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

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

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

“Charming…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The lab is silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never a good sign.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you?”

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

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

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

“Takes stupid to know stupid,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you grinning so hard?”

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

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

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

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

“You know what I meant.”

“Forget about him.”

“I like him.”

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

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

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

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

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

“…Sorry. Go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doing what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up,” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You…want me to sit on your face?”

“Clearly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More?” you ask, surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jake, I—”

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

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

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

“You’re begging,” you state flatly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You said just the tip,” you whimper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a dream.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No? When?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s more you than me.”

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

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

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

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

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

You hum vaguely. “Oh, really?”

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

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

Jake pauses. “What do you mean?”

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

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

He blinks dumbly. “Oh yeah.”

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

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

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

“Wait, you want to tell people?”

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

“About us fucking?”

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

“…Are we?”

“I thought you were the smart one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yep. You’re his. He’s yours. 

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

[dovveri]

in my head

synopsis: you're paired with your crush and resident popular girl on campus for a project for the rest of semester

warnings: maybe a swear word or two

w/c: 5.5k

a/n: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE REQ IM SORRY TO THAT ANON who requested this and also sorry it took me so long to get around to this i just couldn't think of anything to write bcs i alr did the nerd momo x popular reader fic and i fear this trope is too overdone for sana so... there is nothing rly original here LOL i stroogled i lwk wish i did not fill this req bcs i hate this fic HAHHA i gotta learn to say no ><

༺☆༻

“alright class, pair projects for this semester will be randomly assigned.”

there are collective groans from around the room but you only pray that you get a partner who knows what they're doing. you didn't really have a problem doing group assignments all on your own, it was better quality that way anyway, but it'd be nice if someone else could contribute a little every once in a while.

"check your emails for who your partner is. please get acquainted and exchange contact details before next week."

everyone quickly pulls out their phones, laptops, or whatever device they use during class, you follow along, logging in and scrolling to find the correct email.

minatozaki sana.

before you can even conjure up the thought oh shit she's skipping up to your table with a bright smile.

"hi! y/n?"

you sputter, unable to look at her, choosing to fiddle with your screen and panic scroll through random weather predictions and calculator apps. yes, plural, apps.

she's hard to ignore though, bending down and tilting her head so you're forced to look at her. when she catches your eyes she smiles again, "we're working together on the project this semester."

"u-uh y-yeah i s-saw."

"mhmm. wanna exchange numbers now?"

"oh! right yes of course sorry." you fumble, handing your phone to sana. she giggles, taking it from your hand and replacing it with her phone.

"cute background."

"oh that's- i'm not-"

"it's okay y/n. i'm a closet glee fan too." she winks at you, handing back your phone with exceptional speed.

you curse under your breath, quickly typing your number in and handing her phone back, thinking about the brittana wallpaper you have set on your homescreen. why did you have to be such a nerd?

"thanks! i'll text you later and we can meet up sometime this week to talk about the project?"

"y-yep. that sounds g-good."

she smiles that bright, blinding smile again, turning with a flourish and skipping over to her friends.

you were so fucked.

༺☆༻

minatozaki sana was the most popular girl on campus. captain of the cheerleading team, notorious for her ditzy charm and line of admirers. girls like that weren't exactly the type to be top of the class or put much effort into their studies. they were already guaranteed shoo-ins at major marketing or HR firms that liked pretty faces to hike in business, if they weren't already signed to modelling or acting gigs that was.

it also didn't help that you were at the wee end of her long, long line of admirers. you hadn't intended to fall for her. you knew it was completely unrealistic, you'd bet she didn't even know your first name until she got paired with you. so you knew what you were getting into when you first started paying a little more attention to her in class, noticing small things about her like the way she'd scrunch her nose when she was confused or didn't know how to do a question, or the way every time she'd get even remotely excited her left foot would start tapping, like a puppy wagging it's tail when it gets excited. you couldn't help but notice these things and who could you blame? it was minatozaki sana, you certainly weren't the first to fall for her charms, just definitely the most unlikely to actually end up with her.

so it was fine that you were paired up. totally fine. you didn't mind putting in the extra academic work if it meant you didn't have to speak to sana or even mildly interact with her. you were fine doing everything on your own so that she, or god forbid, any of her popular clique would never be able find out about your embarrassingly impossible crush for sana.

santana💜: hi! is this y/n?

you blink down at your phone. this was not who you thought it was. there was no way.

y/n: who's this?

santana💜: im sana! i named myself santana in ur phone bcs of ur brittana wallpaper ;) yk... ur brittany bcs ur a secret genius and im santana bcs... well our names are kinda similar!

y/n: oh... haha right. yeah this is y/n

santana💜: would u be free to come over tmr? to get a headstart on the assignment? or i can go over to urs instead if u want :)

y/n: oh it's fine sana u don't have to pretend to do anything. idm doing the whole thing and submitting for both of us i won't tell the teacher dw

santana💜: what?! who do u think i am y/n?! im not just going to let u do the whole thing on ur own! come to mine 8pm tmr ok? i'll text u the address later

you stare down at your phone. okay so that plan wasn't going to work. you could be cool though. this would be fine. totally fine.

y/n: ok

༺☆༻

you knock on the door of the address sana gave you after her cheer practice. you had spent the past day overthinking exactly what was going to happen, whether or not sana really did want to contribute or if she was still just doing this for show. or if something even more sinister was planned, probably not by sana, but you'd seen some of the people she hung out with, you wouldn't put it past them to go back to their high school bully ways and pull a prank on a nerd like you, even at their adult age.

but when sana opens the door with a beam, her smile is bright and seems devoid of any hidden intentions. you honestly feel a little bad that you had doubted her when she's looking at you like that. but you remind yourself that sana was just that sweet of a person, she looked at everyone like that, you weren't special.

you cough awkwardly, offering a polite smile and stepping in.

"my housemates are out tonight so we have the whole place to ourselves."

"oh cool."

"do you want anything to drink?"

"just water would be great thanks."

"you can go ahead to my room. it's the second door on the right. the bathroom's right opposite it as well if you need to go or anything. i'll be with you in a sec." she smiles at you again, going off towards the kitchen to prepare some snacks and your water.

you tentatively step further into her home, feeling very out of place, but also curious at the pictures and trinkets everywhere, your first glance into sana’s real life.

you follow her directions, walking towards her room and stepping inside, not really surprised at the pink-tone hues that greet you.

sana’s room is cute. she has polaroids and film prints of her and various friends and family hung up next to her bed, a pinboard with small reminders decorated with stickers and more pictures, posters stuck up with and fairy lights strung across various surfaces.

“sorry it’s kinda messy. i haven’t cleaned in a little.”

you turn at the sound of her voice, suddenly finding her much less intimidating in her pink fluffy slippers, suddenly she just seemed like another girl, not the person on the pedestal that you, and most of the campus put her up to be.

you smile, genuinely this time albeit still a little awkward, “it’s fine. i don’t think it’s messy at all, i like it, it’s cute.”

“really? you don’t think it’s childish or anything?” sana pouts slightly as she settles a tray of snacks and water on the table next to her bed and then sits down, shuffling the various amount of japanese plush toys around.

“not at all.”

she grins then, gesturing for you to sit.

you follow suit, crossing your legs and sitting on the floor, taking out your laptop and papers from class. “so have you had a chance to read over the assignment brief yet? it’s okay if you haven’t, i was honestly surprised you asked to meet up so early, technically the only assignment for this week was to exchange contact details.”

sana slides down so she’s on the floor next to you, knees touching, you don’t see it because you’re focused on the fact that your skin was now touching and she was close enough for you to smell her designer perfume, but she pouts before speaking, “do you seriously think i’m just some slacker y/n? i asked to meet up because i wanted to get this assignment out of the way while it’s still early in the semester. before things get busy and we both get swamped with our other classes.”

“o-oh right i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to… well yeah anyway... so i was thinking-"

"you totally thought i was a slacker didn't you?" you can't ignore her when she peeks around to eye you.

"i- well-"

"it's okay. most people think we're all just bandwagoners and yeah i admit i know some of the people i may be... affiliated with are those types of people, but i'm here because i wanted an education and i'm serious about it. so don't try and do all the work on your own okay? we'll split it evenly."

you're more than embarrassed now. you had boxed sana into a stereotype that she was obviously aware of and actively against. “right i’m so sorry oh my god- i didn’t mean to- i-“

she laughs then, hitting your shoulder playfully, your skin burns at the contact, “it’s okay y/n! you’re adorable. thanks for wanting to do everything at first but i can handle my own and i won’t let you down!”

you blush, looking back down to your papers but comprehending none of the words on it. "right. i'm sorry again... and thank you." you manage to mumble out.

sana giggles internally, finding you very cute. and she loved cute things as evidenced all over her room.

༺☆༻

the following weeks you start spending a lot more time at sana's place, to the point where you've met all her roommates and their partners, and it doesn't feel weird for them to see you around the house. it was a pretty rigorous assignment and it involved a lot of hands-on research and time dedicated to it.

you're still complete strangers at school though, sana was still the popular it girl, always surrounded by groups of people, while you were the nerdy nobody.

so it definitely comes as a shock when sana slides into the seat across from you while you're eating your lunch peacefully alone in the cafeteria, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok.

your eyes almost bulge out of your head when you look up and see her bright smile, scrambling to make space for her and take your airpods out, almost knocking your juice popper off the side of the table in the panic.

"s-sana! what are you doing here?!" you're pulling the straps of your bag towards you so it's no longer occupying the table space opposite you, that obviously meant that spot was occupied, a cue sana chose to cheerily ignore.

"just saw you eating alone and wanted to join you!"

"o-oh. you don't have friends waiting for you?"

she shrugs, plucking a fry off your plate, "not really."

you shrink into your seat as you feel the eyes of the cafeteria land on you and sana, whispering and pointing at you. you’ve never wished more for the floor to swallow you up than in this moment.

“so i was thinking-“

“sana! what are you doing here?”

oh no. you did not need any more attention on you right now. least of all from park jihyo, student council president, and kim dahyun, student council treasurer, both of whom were on the same level of popularity as sana with just as many admirers.

jihyo slides in right next to you while talking across to sana, dahyun happily greeting sana and sliding in next to her with her lunch tray.

“jihyo! dahyunnie! i thought you both had a student council meeting right now?”

“got postponed. our secretary fell sick and we can’t proceed without her so we just decided to wait until she got better.”

they fall into easy conversation while you shrink even further into yourself, squeezing your arms into your sides so you’re not made known to the other two who still haven’t acknowledged your presence.

“ugh practice was such a drag today.” yoo jeongyeon slides in next to you, still in her lacrosse uniform, throwing an arm over your shoulders without seeming to realise who you were. you flinch at the action.

this was so not happening to you right now.

hirai momo slides in next to sana, eyes trained only on her tray as she mumbles a greeting with her mouth full with food already.

oh good lord what did you do to deserve this?

at least you’d met momo before since she was one of sana’s roommates but she still only really knew you as ‘sana’s project partner’. the others you’ve only seen from afar, and until now you were half-convinced they weren’t really real, too far up the social ladder to ever be associated with the likes of you. jeongyeon was the star lacrosse player and team captain of your school, which was renowned for it’s lacrosse team. hirai momo was apparently roped into playing lacrosse but really excelled in the world of dance. apparently she’d already had experience touring as backup dancers for major hit singers.

jihyo wrinkles her nose, speaking over you to jeongyeon, “yoo jeongyeon you stink. didn’t we allocate an extra $3000 to shower renovations last year? we did not do that so you could continue to sweat all over me.”

jeongyeon sticks her tongue out at jihyo, “i was hungry. besides i’m not sweating all over you. and you don’t mind do you- wait- who are you?”

your eyes widen when you realise jeongyeon’s now addressing you, and then suddenly the entire table’s eyes are on you.

you feel your face going bright red, coughing awkwardly and staring down at your plate of food. “u-um-“

“this is y/n! she’s my friend!”

you look up to see sana beaming at you.

“oh… how do you guys know each other?”

“we were paired together for that pair project i was talking about- you know for my class about sustainable engineering? momoring knows!”

momo grunts in acknowledgement, offering you a fleeting smile before returning back to her food, not entirely interested with this conversation.

“wait- how does momo know her and i don’t? momo spends all of her time in the dance studio, and if she’s not she’s only ever focused on food!”

“maybe you should be a better student council president and know all your students then hyo.”

im nayeon, co-head cheerleader along with sana, her title alone demonstrating her popularity status, teases jihyo with a grin, standing at the end of the table in her cheer uniform, commanding all attention from anyone who wasn’t already watching your table in curiosity.

“oh shut up nayeon.” but jihyo quickly turns to face you, offering a hand and a bright smile, “hi y/n! it’s nice to meet you! i hope we haven’t been giving you too much trouble.”

you quickly shake your head, taking her hand gingerly, surprised at the strong grip she has.

“momoring and nayeonnie have already met y/n because she’s been over at ours a lot to work on the project together.” sana perks up again, and then looks at you again, not that her eyes have really left you but you didn’t know that, “sorry for all this by the way. my friends are obviously people blind.”

“speak for yourself sana. the amount of times you’ve called out the wrong name in bed-“

sana flushes bright red, shooting up and slapping a hand over nayeon’s mouth while the others crack up in laughter.

"ignore her y/n. she doesn't mean that."

sana smiles through her teeth while nayeon makes muffled sounds of disagreement, and honestly it is a little funny so you can't help but laugh alongside them.

in the end, you don't mind too much that sana's friends invaded your lunch time. they were a lot less intimidating than you had thought they would be, similar to how you had judged sana prior to actually spending any time with her. it was still awkward to feel the eyes of jealous onlookers but sana stealing food off your plate every few minutes and making sure you were included in the conversation was enough to make you feel welcome and ignore those looks.

༺☆༻

"y/n! i got those projections we were talking about last week." sana bounds up to you outside your lecture hall.

"sana? how did you even know i had class at this time?"

"i asked around." she shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal for her to actively be looking for you and for her to know your schedule, "here- what do you think?" she hands over a few documents and you shuffle to the side so students can continue moving in and out. that also meant you were basically boxing yourself into the small corner next to the door with sana blocking your way out. you can feel a few weird glances look your way, wondering how you of all people knew one of the most popular girls on campus.

"it looks good sana."

"great! are we still on for tomorrow night? coach put nayeon and i in charge of practice this week but i may have bribed nayeon into running it herself so we can spend some more time on the project without her nosy self at home."

you nod, handing back her papers, "yeah, i'll be over around 6?"

"sounds good! see you then!" and then she's kissing your cheek and flying off before you can react, your hand coming up to touch where she had pecked you seconds after she's gone.

"-don't know what she sees in them."

"right- you think y/n's paying sana or something?"

"no way sana would do that though. i bet she's just using y/n for help with study or whatever."

"nah i've seen sana's marks, she doesn't need the extra help. maybe she's just toying with y/n. could be a dare or maybe she just has a nerd kink, or wants to try it out once and drop her."

"oh true hahaha i'd almost feel bad for y/n but it is pretty funny watching her prance around sana like she has a chance."

the sounds of laughter drift down the hallway as you stay rooted to the spot, completely invisible to the rest of the student body.

were they right? was sana just pulling you along? fuck you were so stupid. of course she knew you had a crush on her. everyone had a crush on her. you thought you knew sana but now you were starting to doubt your perceptions of her all over again. ugh you couldn't do this. you felt so embarrassed thinking about the amount of time you've spent with sana. all that for her to just be stringing you along, maybe even laughing behind your back with all her friends, you were so stupid for thinking you'd ever move out of your miserable social status. you were at the bottom of the social hierarchy, and she was at the top, it would always be that way, and people at the top don't want anything to do with people at the bottom unless it's for their own benefit or entertainment. sana was not an exception.

༺☆༻

santana💜: hey u still coming over? i maaaay have tried to cook dinner for us both even tho momo always warns me not to step foot in the kitchen and ig she was right this time... so i'll order takeaway? thai food okay?

santana💜: everything okay? sorry if thai food wasnt ur style >< i can order sth else instead but the foods getting cold :((

santana💜: im guessing ur not coming :( hope everythings okay w u!! ill see u at school soon 🥺

༺☆༻

you’ve been trying your best to avoid sana ever since you overheard what those people thought of your relationship with her. it was difficult when she would send you daily texts asking where you were and how you’ve been, even i miss you texts with the little sad face emoticon that had your fingers aching to text her back but you resisted. this was for the best.

but of course as soon as you started avoiding her you also started seeing her around campus a lot more than you used to. she’d pop up everywhere you were, at the library, in the hallways, on the fields, you’d always manage to shy away from her gaze but you don’t think she was doing this on purpose. maybe it was just the fact that because you were avoiding her, you were a lot more noticeable of her presence.

it was hard to keep this up though, especially when the time of the week came that you shared the class you had been assigned project partners in. you had seriously considered faking sick when you woke up in the morning, thinking she could manage class on her own and you’d just email her your parts of the assignment or something. but you got out of bed reluctantly and trudged to class, coming up with as many excuses as possible for having not responded to any of her messages and ditching your last meetup.

you sigh in relief when you walk into class and see that people are still milling about, slowly trickling in, and sana’s seat is still empty. you slink to the back of the classroom, pulling your hood up and turning on your laptop to tap mindlessly at the keyboard, hiding your face behind the screen.

you can hear when the class starts filling up, sliding down further in your chair and avoiding eye contact with everyone.

you can also hear the moment sana walks in, flanked by her friends with that high-pitched laugh and sunshine energy, the class suddenly seems twice as bright as it was. god you missed her. and that was pathetic of you! she didn’t even care about you! you stay resolute in your avoidance, only allowing yourself a second to bask in her voice before closing yourself off again from the outside world.

it’s only when the teacher walks in and starts reading the roll, that you have to squeak out a small ‘here’ when they read out your name. you avoid her gaze when you speak up but you can see in the corner of your eye, sana whips her head around and stares at you with wide eyes, her mouth open in surprise. you shrink back down but she continues to stare at you for a few more seconds before frowning and facing back forward when her name is called out.

you spend the rest of class hiding behind the screen of your laptop, formulating a plan on the fastest way to get out of class once it's over so you don't have to talk to sana.

unfortunately, the teacher seems to have taken notice of your lack of participation, when usually you're the only one in the class who is able to answer their questions, or even mildly paying attention, so you're pulled back when you try to escape, the rest of the class chattering excitedly while leaving class.

"what's wrong y/n?"

"nothing. sorry, just not feeling the best today."

the teacher eyes you, "is the pair project going alright? you didn't sit with sana today."

you gulp, "it's fine."

"are you sure? if sana's making you do all the work you'll tell me won't you?"

your eyes widen, "no! no sana's a sweetheart she-" you catch yourself, sana wouldn't really be a sweetheart if she was playing with you would she? "she's been great, she's contributing and pulling all of her own weight and more. to be honest... i'm probably the one who's not doing my part right now..."

the teacher hums, "alright y/n. let me know if there's anything i can do for you. go home and rest."

you nod, adjusting the straps of your backpack and trudging outside.

only to find sana waiting outside the classroom with her arms crossed, tapping her foot in the way she does when she gets annoyed.

as soon as your outside she doesn't spare you a second glance, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the closest empty classroom and closing the door behind the both of you, standing against it so you have no way of escaping.

"wh- sana! sana what are you doing? i have class!"

"no you don't. the only class you have on wednesdays is the one we share. after that you normally go home or to the library before getting dinner outside."

"what- how do you- have you been stalking me?"

she frowns, "have you been avoiding me?"

"i- what makes you think that?"

"you didn't come last week. and you haven't been answering any of my messages. and i'm not stalking you i just thought we were friends and i like to know my friends' schedules, so when you didn't turn up to any of your usual study spots...i got worried. i thought you were sick or something. but then i saw you at the dessert shop outside the council centre where i volunteer and you didn't look sick at all. in fact, as soon as you saw me you were healthy enough to run off."

you gulp nervously, stepping back, only for sana to step forward. your eyes flit around, looking for any possible exit or distraction, anything would be better than confronting sana right now.

"i just- um- i-"

sana pouts, "did i do something? you'd tell me if i did right?"

"no! you didn't do anything. i just- um-"

she raises an eyebrow. you fiddle with your fingers, unable to look her in the eye.

"w-what do you want with me?"

sana doesn't seem to expect this answer. "what do you mean?"

you sigh in frustration, running a hand through your hair, "it doesn't make sense. why would you want to be friends with me? you're popular and smart and beautiful and you don't hang out with people like me."

"is that what this is about?"

"no- well- yes- i overheard the other day, some people talking about how you were only using me or that you didn't have good intentions with me and i just- i didn't know what to do."

"and what do you think?"

you look up at her then, her gaze is steely, there's no hint of her usual smile. "w-what?"

"is that what you think of me? that that's the kind of person i am? that i'd do that to someone?"

you're taken aback, "i- n-no! i-"

"then why did you listen to them? you're not stupid y/n i know you can form your own opinions on people. you're not like the others, or at least i thought you weren't. i didn't think you'd judge people off of what you've heard about them, i thought we were friends y/n."

"i didn't i- we are- i just-"

you take another step back, needing to create distance between the two of you, needing to think without sana's presence making your head all muddy. but with each step back you take, sana takes one forward.

"was there something else? were you looking for a reason to avoid me?"

another step back, another step forward.

"no! i- i didn't-"

"tell me the truth? please?" you're backed into the wall, nowhere left to go, and sana only steps closer. you can feel your heart rate picking up at her proximity, she's looking up at you, puppy eyes and a pout on her lips, you were so weak.

"n-no i don't- there's nothing else-"

"hmm." she's so close you can see the way her eyelashes flutter when she blinks, can feel her breath on your lips.

you can feel how hot your cheeks are, sweat collecting in your clenched fists. she's studying you, eyes flicking over your face, when your tongue pokes out to wet your lips, purely out of habit and stress, her eyes dart down and watch the movement, snapping back up to your eyes once you were done.

and then suddenly, she blinks and there's a change in the atmosphere. there's a curl of her lips, her eyes conveying something you can't quite decipher.

"do you... like me y/n?"

you blush impossibly brighter, "i-i- well- i-"

then her lips are on yours, just the barest brush of her skin against yours, like a sigh against your lips, but when she pulls away, she doesn't go far, her lips still hovering over yours, looking up at you through her eyelashes.

"it's okay if you do."

you're completely dumbstruck, hand twitching, wanting to reach up and feel your lips, to see if this was really happening.

"because i'd be lying if i said i didn't find you attractive."

your mind goes blank, struggling to catch up. "w-what?"

"i don't kiss just anyone. nayeon may have made that comment about how many people i bring home but none of them compare to you. you're different. you don't want me just because i'm pretty and easy."

"i- i-"

she leans in, pecking you softly again, before leaning back fully to give you space, turning on her heel. "think about it y/n. once you have an answer, stop avoiding me. you know where to find me." and then she's stepping outside the classroom, and you feel like you can finally breathe again, letting your brain catch up to what your body just experienced.

༺☆༻

it takes you a few days to fully come to your senses.

sana stops actively searching for you, but you still see her around campus, only she seems to have decided to give you space, not acknowledging you if you saw her in public or walked past her.

so sana obviously knew you liked her. it just didn't make sense that she could like you too. you took days trying to find any way this could've happened, tracing over every interaction you've had with her in your head over and over, trying to find any clues for her feelings towards you.

it crossed your mind briefly that this was another one of her possible ploys to embarrass you. but she was right when she confronted you, you didn't think she was that kind of person, and none of her actions or the time you've spent with her indicated that she was that kind of person, you needed to trust your own eyes and feelings, sana was being genuine.

it just baffled you how this was possibly genuine, how it was possible for sana to like someone like you. and the only way you'd be able to find out was to talk to her.

you inhale, standing outside sana's apartment. you knew momo had dance practice at this time and nayeon had told you she wouldn't be home because she was meeting up with some friends, so it would just be sana at home.

you knock tentatively, stepping back and collecting your thoughts.

it doesn't help though, because when the door opens, all comprehendible thoughts fly out of your mind, replaced with the mental energy required to memorise sana, her hair up in a messy bun, oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, large glasses on, looking like she just woke up from a nap.

sana's eyes brighten when they see you, leaning against her doorframe and raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"h-hi sana."

"hey yourself. what are you doing here?"

you take a deep breath. you had prepared for this. "why do you like me?" well that was not what you had prepared.

sana smiles amusedly, "i told you. i like that you see me for who i am rather than who i present myself to be. i think you're very cute, you get along well with my friends, you're incredibly smart, and even though you think a little too much over what other people say, we can work on that."

your eyes widen at her answer.

"it's simple y/n. do you want to be with me or not? don't overthink it. we can work out any issues that come up overtime."

"i..." you look down to your feet, blushing, then looking back up to her, "yes. i do want to be with you."

sana grins then, not missing a beat, swooping in and kissing you gently, tasting of berries and sunshine. when she breaks apart, finally welcoming you into her apartment, she teases, "i finished our project by the way. you owe me. but i'll accept kisses as payment."

you whine, finally letting yourself be free around her, no longer hesitating to do what you've wanted to this entire semester, bring her up into a kiss that hopefully makes up for the utter loser you've been in her presence.

[bodythiefsblog]

Beyond the Reflection

Javier and Mateo had always shared a special connection. From the moment they met in that café, they felt they were meant to be together. But something deeply troubled them: how society viewed them and how they perceived themselves. Both were slender and felt insecure in their bodies; they wished to be stronger and more muscular, not just to feel better about themselves but also to protect their relationship from the critical gaze of the outside world.

One day, while strolling through an old neighborhood, they stumbled upon an esoteric shop that seemed out of time. In the window, a sign read: "We fulfill your deepest desires." Intrigued, they entered the dimly lit establishment, which was filled with antique mirrors and mysterious objects.

An old woman with eyes as dark as the night greeted them. "I know what you want," she said before they could utter a word. "You want different bodies, stronger, more powerful."

Javier and Mateo, holding hands, looked at each other and nodded. They were willing to pay any price to be together without the insecurities that haunted them.

The old woman led them to a room where two large golden mirrors hung on the wall. "These mirrors do more than reflect your desires," she explained, "they allow you to take the bodies of those who embody that desire. But you must be sure because this change is irreversible."

In their minds appeared two muscular men they often saw at the neighborhood gym. One of them was Gabriel, a 27 year old man who had dedicated his life to the gym, making it his sole occupation and passion. Standing tall with a muscular build, his physique was the result of years of relentless training and discipline. Gabriel spent hours each day lifting weights, perfecting his form, and pushing his limits. The gym wasn’t just a place to work out; it was his sanctuary, the one place where he felt in control and at peace.

The other man was Armando, a 30 year old successful personal trainer and nutritionist, known for his charisma and his ability to inspire others to reach their goals. Armando came from a humble background and had worked hard to build his reputation in the fitness world. However, behind his bright smile and seemingly perfect life, he hid a deep loneliness. He had dedicated so much time to his career that he had neglected his personal life, and although he was admired by many, he had no one to share his successes with.

The mirrors began to glow, and in an instant, Javier and Mateo felt a strange pull inside them. When they opened their eyes, they were no longer in the shop but in the bodies of Gabriel and Armando.

Javier, now Gabriel, suddenly felt much stronger, and immediately began to admire his body: his abs, his perfect pecs and a pair of big buttocks ready to receive his boyfriend's cock.

He immediately put Gabriel's things (his things) in his backpack and took a photo, sending it to his boyfriend's old Instagram profile.

"Look at the ass you're going to be playing with tonight."

Meanwhile, Mateo opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of a routine in Armando's body. There were people around him who noticed something strange in his attitude.

"Are you okay?" one of them said.

"Yes, bro." Mateo pretended, knowing that was exactly how Armando would speak.

Immediately, the new Armando ran to the locker room, where he logged into his Instagram account and read the message from "Gabriel." Full of emotion, he lifted his shirt and took a photo. Responding: "I can't wait."

After two weeks (and a phase of rough gay sex every night), Gabriel and Armando came out to their girlfriends and families and declared themselves a couple. It was especially fun to go to the mall to find some clothes that actually fit their "new selves."

Their new bodies were strong, powerful, exactly as they had imagined.

[i05wook]

NOW LOADING... GAMER BF! GUNWOOK HEADCANONS!

PAIRING: GAMER BF! PARK GUNWOOK X GN! READER

GENRE: FLUFF

SUMMARY: GAMER BF! GUNWOOK MINECRAFT HEADCANONS

WORD COUNT: 278

AUTHORS' NOTES: THIS CAME AROUND AFTER A CONVERSATION ON THE ZUMBLR DISCORD SERVER AFTER I SAW A VIDEO OF GUNWOOK WITH HIS SILLY LITTLE MINECRAFT TORCH THAT HANBIN BOUGHT HIM AND I JUST HAD TO MAKE THIS!!!

DOWNLOADING...██████████

Gamer bf! Gunwook who makes the prettiest house and farm for you both to live in. Gamer bf! Gunwook who will defend you from all the hostile mobs, even if it means he loses his enchanted diamond armour. Gamer bf! Gunwook who picks all the types of flowers in the world and leaves them in a chest where you last logged out along with a letter across a couple of signs. Gamer bf! Gunwook who says he’s over this stupid game, but then 10 minutes later he’s back rebuilding the farm after a creeper blew it up Gamer bf! Gunwook who if anyone touches his server, there’s murder (evidence: he’s already chased gyuvin around the dorms after he accidentally killed your family of pink sheep!!) Gamer bf! Gunwook who goes mining for diamonds and lapis so he can enchant a diamond sword for you Gamer bf! Gunwook who arranges (and builds) the cutest minecraft dates on the server. Gamer bf! Gunwook who builds an automatic farm after hearing you jokingly complain once about hating farming wheat on the game. Gamer bf! Gunwook who also built you a honey farm for the bumblebees after seeing you excited about them every time you come across one in game. Gamer bf! Gunwook who builds a statue in the shape of a brown bear for you as a surprise but now he uses it to house the baby zombie you declared as your child after you accidentally trapped it in a boat. Gamer bf! Gunwook who is adamant on placing your beds next to each other in your little wooden cottage.

NOW LOADING... ZEROBASEONE TAGLIST

@haecien @nonononranghaee

[domesticgoddess22]

wish upon a cowboy

chapter 2: i like my whiskey neat

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them. warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst word count: 4.6k (this is ch 2) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI masterlist here

Down a winding, unpaved road, you and Joel traverse deeper into the trees. Birds sing their afternoon tunes and the rubble from civilization is completely out of eye’s reach, fooling you into believing that the world is still as it once was. 

A lone cabin comes into view, seemingly untouched from the horrors. The windows are intact and not shattered, the vegetation hasn’t swallowed the structure, and there’s a truck neatly parked beside the house, dusty and unused.

Inside, like a perfectly preserved moment in history, the cabin still has a few pots and pans, blankets, and a bed. Your eyes light up when you notice the fireplace in the living room. September in Texas was blazing hot during the day. At night, it was far too cold for your liking.

“Looks like we don’t have to cuddle tonight,” you say playfully. Not that the two of you ever did anything like that.

“You sound disappointed.”

“Not as disappointed as you're about to be when I tell ya I’m an excellent cuddler,” you add.

“That so?” Joel tilts his head and you search his expression for any sign of emotion, but his gaze is rigid. Bored even.

He isn’t interested. Quit with the flirting and pull yourself together.

“Hungry?” Joel asked. Like he always did, ready to provide for you.

“A bit, yeah.”

“I‘m gonna get us some firewood ‘n see if I can catch us a rabbit.” He declares before dipping outside. “You wanna see if you can find anythin’ useful in here?”

“You ever gonna teach me to hunt?”

Joel’s mouth pulls into a subtle smile. “Soon. Just relax for now ‘n I’ll take care of it.” 

You think about how sweet it is for him to think about your comfort. It’s true that your feet are in blistering pain and you’d give anything to just kick back on the sofa and snooze.

Sinking into the cushions you dusted and wiped clean with a damp cloth, you drift off to thoughts of the rugged man outside, chopping wood and hunting game. Thoughts of what it’d feel like to have him kiss you, tongue exploring your mouth, hands groping your soft mounds. You craved to feel his touch, and longed for his faroff gaze to focus on you and only you.

A gunshot shakes the quiet earth. Through the glass window, you see birds emerging from the trees in swarms like dust exploding from an old quilt. You peek outside to see dark storm clouds brewing in the distance.

Joel returns about an hour later with an armful of firewood and kindling. The sunlight slowly fades, casting a soft, orange glow on the logs–receding gently with each passing minute until the house is covered in shadows, the only source of light now is flickering flames at the center of the room. 

“Cabin is nice,” you hum, poking the fire with a stick before tossing it into the heap. The flames swallow it appreciatively, dancing more aggressively from your offering.

“‘S good for the night.”

“Just the night? Why don’t we stay here for longer? Settle down for a while–it’s gonna get colder soon, and this seems like a good place to stay for the wi–”

“Ain’t a good idea.” He clicks his tongue, cutting you off before you can say more. 

“Why not?”

“‘cuz I said so.”

“Joel. This place is safe. You saw that little corner shop we were in. It was barely picked over,” you plead and it was true. Places like this were so detached from the cities that they’d have less clickers, and if you were lucky, more stuff to scavenge. 

“We don’t know who’s around here. Ain’t never been in these parts before so it’s best we keep movin’.”

Always so strict, this one. 

You don your best puppy dog eyes. “Two days. Just–just hear me out…” Your hands wrapped around the neck of a whiskey bottle tucked in your bag. It was a lucky find, sitting in the back of one of the cupboards. “I promise it’ll be funnn.” 

He tuts, shaking his head but a subtle smile betrays him. 

There it is. 

That smile that sends your heart soaring. 

He shifts his weight to one side and crosses his arms across his broad chest. The green flannel shirt now stretches across his muscles, nearly ripping at the seams. “Fine,” he caves. “But just two.”

“Who knew Joel Miller liked to have a little fun?”

“scuse me?”

“You’re always so strict. That’s all.”

He frowns. “Ain’t strict.”

“Okay, stern.”

“Ain’t stern. I was a lot of fun back in my day, I’ll have ya know.”

“Okay, cowboy,” you tease. 

“Alright, miss know-it-all, how am I strict?” Brow cocked, elbows resting on his knees. “Enlighten me.”

“Well–first of all, you’re all do what I say any time I try to challenge you on somethin’.” You exaggerate his southern drawl and he narrows his eyes at you. “Plus, you won’t even tell me anything personal about you.” 

The first drops of rain pitter patter against the cabin walls.

“First of all, I say what I say ‘cuz I know what’s best for us.”

Us. 

You loved the sound of that. Like you were a team now and he wanted to protect that. 

Your lips fold together, hiding that damn smile that creeps up whenever he says something you like.

“Been through a hell of a lot more than you have ‘n I know what we need to do. Where we need to be. Who and what we need to stay away from.” He leans back against the couch cushion, gazing into the fire that dances in his dark orbs. “Was doin’ just fine until you came along, if I’m bein’ honest.” 

“Oh, I don’t believe that. I’m a hoot.”

“You… are trouble. The amount of times I’ve had to run into a Randall’s to search for Twizzlers is plain stupid.”

“Shut up. They’re good and you know it.” You press the neck of the whiskey bottle to your lips and tilt it back, letting the liquid heat bloom across your tongue.

“They were good ten years ago. Not worth it now.”

You hand him the bottle and his calloused fingers brush yours.

“Ya ain’t got any sense of danger, dunno how you made it this far before you met me, baby.” 

Baby.

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Far as I can tell, I’m all you've got, so have a little faith in me.”

He wasn’t wrong. Mom and dad were long gone. FEDRA killed them for leaving the walls past curfew. Had to do with contraband or somethin’, you weren’t too sure. Just knew that it was bad enough to get them killed. You were fifteen when it happened and on your own. Took ten years later for you to bust out of there with a desert eagle and a backpack full of ammo and granola bars.

Not that you got very far.

Hunters found you trekking along the outskirts of Austin, shot you down just because they wanted your piece of shit backpack. You were lucky they left you where they did and that Joel found you when he had.

You never imagined it would lead you here, though. Sitting in a cabin right outside of the middle of nowhere Texas, drinking a bottle of crown with the man who tossed a coin and snatched you from the grim reaper with his bare hands. 

And you wanted to thank him for it. 

Kiss his co–

Stop.

The rain picks up, nearly drowning out the crackle of the fire with it’s steady rhythm.

“How’d you get this far all by yourself?” There's enough liquid courage running through your veins now, and probably his too, so you figure now is as good as ever to learn the secrets that build Joel Miller.

“Ain’t always been just me.”

“Oh? You save someone else from death and let her tag along with you for a while?” There’s no way he’d pick up on the jealousy hidden beneath the slight strain in your voice. The worry that he’s got someone, somewhere, waiting on him. You run your fingers through your hair and pretend to be disinterested.

“Not quite. Brother, actually. We used to hunt together, but uh–haven’t seen ‘em in a few years.” 

The breath hitched in your throat finally escapes.

“Do you know where he is?” 

“Thinkin’ he’s up north from here. Had to know he was alright, so I got a tip from the fireflies and they suspect he’s in Wyoming.”

“You gonna go see ‘im?”

Joel breathes in, eyes watching the dancing flames. He brings the bottle to his lips–the same place your lips were, you note–and tilts his head back. 

When he rests it back on his knee, he rubs his thumb against the smooth amber glass.“We had a little disagreement ‘n he took off.”

You scoot across the carpet to sit a little closer to him, letting the weight of your body rest on the balls of your feet. Your hand is a featherweight on his knee. “You should go see ‘im.” 

“No.”

“Come on. The fact that you have a family member that’s still alive is a fuckin’ miracle! You should celebrate that and reunite with your brother.”

“Ain’t gonna happen.”

He leans forward and offers you a swig and you accept, letting your hand abandon his knee. 

Even though you’d only known the man for a short while, you were familiar with his moods.There were a lot of things he didn’t like to talk about, and if you pried too much he’d ignore you. Change the subject. Some would probably say he was cold, but you knew that there was pain beneath his hardened exterior.

There was a silence that fell over you for a while, a comfortable silence as the two of you watched the fire and clung to the smallest shred of comfort left in the world. A warm fire. A false sense of safety–for the night. Someone to sit next to. 

And then his gruff voice rips through the silence, scraping the floor with its rich baritone. “Forty-eight.”

“What?” You knew what, but you couldn’t believe he’d just shared something else about himself.

“‘M forty-eight.”

Fuck. 

Forty-fucking-eight. 

You knew he was older, sure, but now that you had a number it really sank in. It’s not like you were bothered by his age, but it was moreso a confirmation that he wasn’t going to do anything with you and you weren’t ready to accept that.

“You?”

“Me?”

“Your age.”

“Ah,” you hesitate before speaking again. As if to buy yourself time and keep him guessing for a stretch longer. You almost think about lying but the truth slips from your lips before you cook one up. “I’m twenty-five.”

Joel’s arm is draped across the back cushion of the couch, casting his gaze over his shoulder at something in the room. His expression bored, legs spread, features hardened. 

This is the first time in your life you wished you were forty. You take another sip of whiskey to wash the thought away.

You’ve had your fair share of booze at this point and now you’re buzzing,  the weight that’s been on your chest for weeks is slowly lifting.

He rolls his head back to you and casually says, “Figured you were in your twenties or somethin’. Makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“Why you ain’t careful,” he’s smirking at you now and you roll your eyes.

“I’m careful when I need to be, Miller.”

“Yeah. Well ya got me now to look after ya. Keep ya outta trouble ‘n all.”

What does it even matter if he’s twenty something years your senior? It’s the apocalypse and you’re both adults.

Fuck it.

“Musta been lonely before, just you and nobody else...” Your eyes are on his denim, right around his knees and then up, up, up until you reach his face. “You ever uh–you ever been with anybody since the outbreak?”

Joel’s eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“You know what, Mr. Quietly Charming. Can’t imagine you haven’t run into someone looking for a little escapism?”

His brow lifts when the realization finally hits and he clears his throat. “I’ve had a few...” 

“A few? Impressive considering there aren't a lot of people around. So you got a type then?” 

“Not really.”

“Oh come on, everybody's got a type.”

“Well…I like a woman that's got a mind of her own.”

“How modern of you to let the woman take control.” There’s no hiding your smile that’s stretching from ear to ear.

“Didn't say that. I like her to have a mind of her own… during the day. At night…” He leans forward, voice low, the scent of whiskey on his tongue. “...I like ‘em submissive.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

“You been with anybody?”

“He was a FEDRA guard. Took him for a spin so I could steal his ration cards.”

Joel chuckles. “Now why doesn't that surprise me?”

“And just what do you mean by that?”

“Nothin’ bad. Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you do have what it takes to survive.”

“That I do.”

“But you could learn a thing or two about fightin’,” Joel's hand lands on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. It's the first time he's touched you since the day he found you and carried you to the doc.

When he removes his hand and leaves your shoulder cold, you feel a desperate need to feel more of him. The two of you drink and talk and it isn’t long before Joel sheds more of those thick outer layers of his, revealing little pieces about himself that you didn’t know before. 

He used to play guitar, still would if he had one around. The Eagles and Pink Floyd were a few of his favorite artists to play to. Back before the outbreak he was a carpenter, could build anything from a wardrobe to a house with his bare hands.

The key takeaway: Joel was good with his hands.

“How do you normally take your whiskey?”

“Only way I can take it. Neat.”

“Not now. Back in your day when you were loads of fun. I would love to hear more about that too, by the way. Ya ever get arrested? Steal a car? Have a one night stand and knock somebody up?”

Joel chuckles, getting up from his seat and kneeling in front of you. “The hell kinda guy did you think I was back then?” You feel his calloused palm brush against your fingers again as he takes the bottle from your grasp. “I think you’ve had enough of this for tonight.”

“‘I was just gettin’ started.” 

Joel reaches over you to set the bottle up on the aged wooden table,  filling your lungs with his smoky aroma the closer he gets.

“I stole plenty of cars.”  The glass thuds against wood, Joel rests his palm on the edge of table so that he’s caged you in. “Since the outbreak.”

Deep brown eyes bore into you, a muscle working in his jaw as he contemplates the rest of his story. 

You loved his stories.

“Wasn’t worth it to steal back then–we had rules.”

His scent. This position. It’s making you positively feral. You look up at him, doe eyed and eager. 

“What were your rules when it came to sex?” A bold inquisition, but you're ready for the answer.

There's a brief pause as Joel’s dark gaze is on your lips. Parted, plump–kissable, you hope.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that, sweetheart. If you keep givin’ me those eyes, ’m not going to be able to control myself.” 

“Then don’t.”

He groans with temptation. “You’re young. I should know better.” 

“What happened to fun Joel?” You tease.

He chuckles darkly, his bedroom eyes focused on the curves of your lips. “Tell me what you want, baby and I’ll give it to ya.”

A single beat of time passes, letting the heat between you two fester for just an agonizing stretch longer. Joel traces circles into your inner thigh with his finger. 

“You said you like ‘em submissive,” the sound of your voice is sultry, inviting. “Show me what you’ve got, Miller.”

Now his hand is possessively gripping your thigh. He nods, a silent agreement between the two of you that what you once were to each other is now going to change tonight. What was about to transpire would undoubtedly redefine your relationship, but you didn’t care. You needed him, so, so badly. And by the burning look of desire in his gaze, he needed you too.

Thick fingers take hold of your chin and force you to look up, cranking your neck back so Joel is dominating your view of the world. “Needy lil’ thing,” he teases, but his tone is thick with approval. With lust.  

Joel’s lips crash onto yours, his hand still firmly gripping your jaw, digging his thumb into your cheek bone to better force his entry. His tongue commands yours, lapping in a circular motion to taste you.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, slowly laying you back until you’re pinned under his heat. 

The wetness of his tongue glides across your neck with insatiable desire while a rough hand cups your mound, kneading your breasts.

Joel’s urgency felt animalistic as he explored every inch of you, hands sliding down to your waist, saving the feel of you to his memory for now until the end of his days.

He smooths his hand across your stomach, down until his calloused fingertips brush your waistline. You moan into his mouth, grabbing a handful of his plaid shirt to reel him in closer to you. He groans, rutting into you. “Fuck. You’re already soakin’ wet for me?”

“Mhmm,” you say, eyelids heavy with lust.

Licking his lips cravenly, he tugs your panties down with ease. Your back arches when the pads of his fingers slide along the wet slick of your swollen bud, a euphoric feeling coupled with a desperate thirst to taste his lips again.  As if he heard your plea, his tongue is sliding against yours again, the taste smooth like whiskey. His fingers glide across your folds, slowly at first, gradually picking up the pace as he masterfully brings you to the edge.

“Joel, I want you so bad.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck and breathes deep before looking back at you, pupils blown out. “Just be patient. I wanna make ya feel good first–think ya can do that?”

You bite back a moan and nod your head with eager obedience. Joel lifts your shirt, revealing your bare breasts as he hums in approval, his lips graze your skin and then he’s biting and sucking your sensitive peaks with fervor, groaning and sucking, sucking and groaning. Two fingers sink into you and your jaw goes slack, the sensation utterly electrifying from head to toe. 

He pumps into you with a slow and steady rhythm, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clit. You feel his cock hard and throbbing against your leg, his hips bucking into you with carnal need, a male response to the sounds of your feminine moans.

“Good girl, show me how much you like it–lemme hear your pretty little voice.” 

“Joel–please–I need more–I need–” You babble.

“Just be patient. If I take you right now, baby ‘m gonna split you open. Need to warm up this lil’ pussy first.” He sinks a third finger into your heat, walls tightly constricting around him. You beg and plea for more as he pulls his name from your lips over and over again until finally, he’s guiding you to your sweet release. Needy fingers pull on the fabric of his shirt, toes curling with pleasure, mouth agape as you absorb the blissful sensation of Joel’s wide fingers, knuckledeep inside your cunt.

Then the fullness of him is gone and the emptiness of the room is replaced with the angry sound of a zipper. Between your knees you see Joel’s massive, pulsating cock bucked in his hand and a dark, lustful smile painted on his lips to match. “Spread your legs,” he growls.

His hand  is pressed to your thigh, spreading your legs even further apart, drawing his hips closer to yours. You shift your gaze downward to see the bead of precum oozing from the head of his cock. His tip tastes the sweet slick of your entrance just before he plunges into you and your back arches violently, jaw slack as you struggle to adjust to his impossible girth. He pulls out slowly only to thrust back into you, curses pouring from his lips at the feel of your walls snuggly wrapped around him.

It’s this moment that makes you realize that you were made for him.

And if you weren’t, you were utterly ruined. Your pussy would forever be molded to the shape of him.

“So tight baby–fuck. You’re takin’ me so well–such a good girl.” The man was so deep inside you and drunk with lust, he could barely construct coherent sentences.

“M-More!” You beg despite his brutal pace, you craved for more of him. 

He craved more of you, fucking you dumb, the wet sound of his balls slapping against your skin is drowning out the downpour outside. You’re moaning at a decibel so high, if anyone else is in the neighborhood, they’d surely hear you. Everytime you moan, Joel groans. Sometimes he growls, usually when he was buried to the hilt in your heat and you’d grind against him, urging him to stay there and never leave, wrapping your legs around his hips.

“H-Harder.”

“Needy lil’ thing, beggin’ for more.” The pace quickens and so does the amount of kisses on your neck and the sweet nothings you only dreamed he’d be capable of saying to you. His praises are endless. How tight your pussy is, how wet you are, what a good girl you are for him.

Wanton moans pour from your lips after each praise–shameless noises, really, but you don’t care. You scream for more, more, more as he mercilessly pounds into you, fucking you with the same ferocity that he fights with.

“You like that baby? You like getting fucked by someone old enough to be your daddy?”

“Come in me. Please. Please.”

“Can’t do that, darlin’.” He smiles sinfully into your neck, licking and nibbling at the sensitive spot just under your ear. “But I wish–wanna fill you up so fuckin’ bad ‘til you’re full of me.”

His hand firmly grips the base of your throat, a grip strong enough to keep you pinned down but not enough to hurt you.

“Joel–I’m gonna come!”

“Come on my cock like a good girl.” The deep command of his voice sets you over the edge and Joel takes you to the finish line, thrusting into you in slow, long strides and then merciless pounding. “Baby, you’re suckin’ me in, ‘m not gonna be able to hold it.”

You wrap your legs tightly around him, body still convulsing as you ride your high, walls fluttering dangerously around his cock. 

“Fuck it,” he says through gritted teeth, taking your waist in each of his hands with a bruising grip. His thighs are slapping into you, jeans still half on, his loosened belt buckle branding the right side of your ass and then he’s pouring himself into you. Hot ropes of Joel’s cum fill you to the brim, his cock pulsing, straining to empty his last drop. Warm seed trickles down your ass.

His chest is pressed against yours, both of you heaving as you settle from your climax. The only sounds are the crackling fire, the once harsh downpour of rain that’s now reduced to a gentle simmer, and the sound of your breath tangled with his.

“Again.” His voice is more of a demand than a request, his cock twitching inside of you with interest.

“Joel, I can’t take it anymore.”

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at his eyes, wild with lust. “Yes, you can.”

Your chests are heaving and foreheads tacky with sweat.

“Mmmmm, Joel…”

The sounds of your tryst carry on until the early morning hours when Joel’s desire finally subsides. Your ear is pressed to his chest, listening to the sound of his beating heart, his ragged breathing. In between breaths, he says, “Been thinkin’...” The rumble of his gravelly voice reverberates in your ear.

“Oh yeah?”

“‘Bout helpin’ you finish that bucket list of yours.”

“I don’t have a bucket list, Joel.” 

“Learn to drive, eat pie, go to school, go on a date…” He starts listing everything you mentioned earlier. “Ain’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, but it’s a fantasy. Can’t go on a date at the diner when the world has ended.”

“Sure ya can, just gotta have a little bit of ‘n imagination.” The scruff of Joel’s beard brushes against your forehead as he speaks to you. “Close your eyes.”

You oblige, a playful smirk on your face.

“You’re wearin’ one ‘a them summer dresses. Pink.”

“Yellow,” you argue.

“I like yellow.” Joel says with approval.

“Does it hug my chest real nice?”

“Sure does, darlin’. But I ain’t just lookin’ at that. ‘M lookin’ at how beautiful your eyes, wide and lit up with excitement for our first date.”

“Go on.”

“I just got off of work, picked you up in my old chevy and drove us down to 4th Street to the town’s favorite, the Millcreek Diner. Fifties style, decked out with a jukebox and red leather barstools, and a glowing neon sign that says Milkshakes ‘n Fries.” There’s a vivid picture painted in your head as Joel narrates the world from before, images pulled together from old photos and books you stumbled across throughout your travels. 

“I want a burger. Extra fries, extra cheese, and a milkshake.”

“Good choice.”

“What’s it taste like?”

“The burger is juicey ‘n savory–Fresh. Fries are salty and crispy, ‘n then they melt in your mouth after the first couple crunches.”

Your mouth waters at the thought of having something so hot–so fresh.

“And the milkshake?”

“‘S a little cold, perfect for dessert. Tastes like sweet strawberries. Comes with a little cherry on top of the whipped cream. You ever had a cherry before?” 

“Once.”

“Tastes like that, but sweeter. The color is bright red. They’re called maraschino cherries or som’ like that.”

“You sure know a lot about things.”

“Was basic stuff everybody knew back then. And shh–ain’t done with our date yet.” He clears his throat and continues, “Watcha goin’ to school for, darlin’?”

“Film. Parents think it’s a bad idea though. It’s not practical, probably won’t pay the bills. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Bills. That’s one thing I can say I’m glad is gone.”

“Joel.”

“Sorry, sorry. Yeah–film, ‘s good. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with following your dreams. Everybody can’t play it safe and be a carpenter like me, otherwise we wouldn’t have nothin’ to look forward to at the end of the day. Movies, books, all the good stuff.”

“Yeah, well I think carpenters are pretty sexy. Might even mean a guy is good with his hands, no?”

He rolls over so his body is hovering over yours. There’s an arrogant smirk on his face, his breath ghosts your lips when he says, “you tell me, sweetheart. But we ain’t even had our first kiss yet.”

“Kiss me then.” 

This time his lips gently press yours, his tongue slowly sliding between your lips. Unlike the makeout session from earlier, this kiss is sweet and gentle. Like the kiss of a lover.

You couldn’t imagine a better way to end a first date.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley convinces you to order a new bed by using an interesting tactic. And when you realize you were Bradley's first for something, you're already excited to find out if you can be his first again. Because he was yours, and with one simple word, Noah had you wrapped around his tiny fingers even more.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, spanking, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

After work on Friday, Bradley picked Noah up on his way home. Casey tried to talk his ear off when he arrived at the daycare center. She seemed pleased that Bradley was alone today, and she pulled the clipboard away from him with a smirk when he tried to take it from her to sign it. 

"I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner with me tonight? Or another night?" she asked, and Bradley just stared at her. "Us and Noah, of course."

She was probably the same age as you. Maybe he'd been giving Casey some sort of hope when he'd wrapped his arms around you yesterday. But even if he were single, he wouldn't go for someone who worked where Noah went to school. "I have a girlfriend, Casey. You've met her several times. She's on my approved list of people who are allowed to take Noah home."

With a sigh she set the clipboard down in front of him. "I didn't know it was serious."

"It's serious," he promised as he scribbled down his name on the correct line. And then without another word, she went to retrieve Noah for him. It was unbelievable. Suddenly, because of you, Bradley was appealing to younger women. And you were obviously appealing to everyone, including Beau Simpson. Every time Bradley saw him at work, he smirked at the admiral. That man wanted you that night at the bar, but you were Bradley's. He could get hard for you just thinking about it. 

"Daddy!" shouted Noah as he ran across the small lobby. 

"Hey, Bub." Bradley scooped him up and got a kiss.

"Where's Princess? I like it when you pick me up together."

Bradley shifted his gaze to Casey as he said, "Let's go home and get her."

"Do you think she made ants on logs for me?" Noah asked as Bradley carried him outside.

Bradley kissed his son and said, "I think there's a good possibility."

Before he started the engine, he texted you and let you know that Noah was asking for you and for his favorite treat. Your response left him aching to get home as quickly as possible.

My Princess: Of course I made him some ants. I know what you boys like. Dinner is nearly ready, too. Can't wait to see you Daddy.

When he finally rushed in the front door in his flight suit with Noah in his arms, you were there in the living room, ready to greet both of them.

"Princess!" Noah gushed, climbing from Bradley's arms to yours. "I made you a painting of a dinosaur in a crown."

You kissed his cheek and said, "I absolutely need to see it right now."

So Bradley pulled it out of the backpack with a smile on his face, even though you'd completely ditched him in favor of kissing Noah. Because he loved the way you interacted with his son. 

You gasped when he held it up and said, "Noah! It's perfect! Let's hang it on the refrigerator." It actually just looked like some green and purple blobs, but you took it from Bradley's hand anyway as you whispered, "Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, Baby." Bradley had a lot of things in mind for you, but none of them were really appropriate at this moment, so he just gave you a soft kiss and followed you to the kitchen.

---------------------------

After Noah was in bed, you changed into one of Bradley's soft shirts and a cute pair of your underwear. You finally felt like your things were organized neatly in his house and his bedroom. Your house... your bedroom. Just thinking about it made you smile. But the bed needed to go. You'd spent a good portion of your day looking for a new one online, but everything seemed so expensive.

"Why do you look upset?" Bradley asked when he walked in, fresh out of the shower. He removed the towel from his waist and used it to dry his hair. Even when he wasn't hard, he looked huge, and you bit your lip in need. 

"I'm not upset," you insisted, closing the distance to him. "Just annoyed at the price of a new bed."

Bradley ran his index finger along your lip. "You have your pretty purple princess credit card. Use it. I agree, we should have a new bed."

You kissed his finger before you said, "The one I like is over a thousand dollars."

"Princess. You know by now that I'm not going to get mad if you spend money. Thank you for giving me a heads up about the price of the bed," he said, voice deep and raspy. "It sounds fine to me."

When you tucked your face against his warm chest, you whispered, "Thank you, Daddy."

One of his big hands trailed down your back until he was cupping your butt and playing with your lace thong. He slid his index finger inside the elastic, and your nipples got hard as he ran his finger slowly up and down your rear end until you clenched around nothing. "I have an idea," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. "Maybe it would be easier for you to use the credit card if you got a punishment of sorts when you did."

"A punishment?" you asked, looking up at him puzzled with your chin resting on his chest. 

"A fun one," he said with a nod, squeezing your butt. "I could spank you."

You tilted your head back and gaped up at him as he continued to work his palm along your flesh. You'd never done that before, which wasn't surprising, because you'd never been with an older man before. And that always seemed like the kind of thing a boy your own age would turn into a silly foray into a kink that you thought you might actually enjoy with the right person. "Spank me?"

Bradley's cock was a little hard now as his fingers worked down and down until he was teasing both of your holes. "Only if you want to. Might motivate you to use the credit card," he whispered with a smirk as your eyes fluttered closed. 

You moaned for him, long and needy, and when he took a few steps backward toward the edge of the bed, you followed him. When he sat down with his legs splayed, his cock looked gorgeous. Just shy of fully erect. Long, pink and pretty. 

"What if I don't like it?" you asked softly, taking a step closer to him. 

"Then I'll stop."

"And what if I do like it?" you asked, running your fingers along his thigh.

Bradley pulled your shirt up a few inches and kissed your belly. "Then Daddy will spank you when you use your princess card."

You moaned again and squeezed your thighs tight. "That sounds hot." And next thing you knew, he had you tossed across his lap with your butt up in the air. You could feel the tip of his cock rubbing along your belly as you scrambled to grab the bedding with one hand and his calf with the other. You looked up at him over your shoulder, and before you could say anything at all, he pushed your shirt up and rubbed his hand along your back, butt and thighs. And then he landed a solid slap that left your skin tingling, and you were already prepared to beg him for more. 

He spanked you again, right on the round of your butt, and you gasped, "Fuck. Bradley!"

He soothed your skin with his rough palm. "Do you want me to stop, Princess?"

"No!" you nearly shouted, wiggling yourself up in the air for more. And he delivered, spanking you three more times in rapid succession. "I love it," you gasped, wiggling a little more against his thigh. 

"I can see that," Bradley crooned. "That's because you're young and sweet, and you've never been bad like this before. You never had a Daddy who wanted you to use his credit card before."

His hand landed with another stinging smack, and you jerked against him, panting as you stared at the bedroom floor, waiting for more. Your thong was pulled taut, the fabric tight along your clit, and each movement brought pressure exactly where you wanted it. "Please?" you whined, and you listened to Bradley chuckle as you rubbed your pussy on his thigh.

"Wow. You really want this." He ran his fingers along the length of the strip of fabric between your cheeks, teasing your holes through the lace. You couldn't stop grinding on him. His coarse leg hairs and his muscular body kept you anchored as he spanked you so hard, you clenched. 

Then you were treated to another round of being soothed while Bradley told you to keep quiet. And the next time his hand met your right butt cheek, you jerked yourself against his thigh and whispered, "I'm gonna cum."

"Really?" Bradley asked. "Should I let you?" He was back to soothing you and running his fingers across your holes. 

"Daddy," you begged. "I'll order the bed tonight. I promise."

Bradley tucked his fingers inside your thong and teased you as he muttered, "This is going to work out even better than I thought." Then he used both hands on your hips to press you down harder on his lap, and you wiggled until you were moaning and clenching harder and harder. 

"Yes," you gasped, and as you reached the peak of your orgasm, he spanked you so many times in a row, your eyes filled with tears of satisfaction. "Daddy," you whimpered, looking up at his smile and his handsome face. 

"You're such a good girl for me," he praised, and slowly you managed to stand between his thighs on shaky legs. You kissed his lips softly as his big hands gently cupped your throbbing rear end. "I love you. Now order a new bed."

"I will," you promised, running your fingers along his erection. "After I take care of this." Bradley watched you with eyes wide, as you sank to your knees in front of him. You knew how much he loved your mouth on him like this, and you wanted to make him feel as good as he made you feel. His cock was throbbing in your hands as you kissed the angry, red tip and looked up at him. "After I take care of you."

-------------------------------

Your mouth on his cock was always a treat for Bradley, but you still had tears in your eyes which made you look even more beautiful to him as he reached for your paper crown and set it on your head. You kissed and nuzzled his cock with your face before pressing soft kisses along his balls. He wasn't going to last long after the spanking when you were as good as you were. But he was feeling smug; you got off rubbing on him while he spanked your perfect ass. 

He was planning on rewarding you by eating your pussy all night. He wasn't expecting to be the one who got head, but he'd never complain about this. Not when your perfect lips were wrapping around his cock like you were right at home. 

"You're so fucking good," he groaned, head tipping back as you took him deep. He took a few deep breaths as you got him really worked up. You were bobbing and moaning, and he watched you take him as his hands found your face. 

When you popped him free to take a deep breath, a pretty strand of your saliva dripped down onto the shirt you were wearing. "Feel good, Daddy?"

He huffed out a laugh. "Baby, you're the best." He stroked your cheek as you sucked on his tip and kept your pretty eyes on his. The crown was crooked on your head now, and he was just a mess for you. "Let me paint your lips up?" he asked, grinning as he thought about the lipgloss you liked to wear. Tonight he wanted you to wear him. 

You sucked him expertly until he was panting, and then you jerked him off onto your lips and face as you giggled. "You gonna help me get cleaned up?" you asked softly as Bradley looked at you completely mesmerized. He reached to swipe his long fingers through his cum, but then he paused as he remembered the polaroid camera sitting on the dresser.

"Don't move," he whispered, kissing your forehead as he stood. When he returned and got the camera ready, he kissed the top of your head and whispered your name. "Baby, if you think I wasn't wild about the photos you sent away with me, I can assure you that I was. Will you let me have more?"

"Yes," you whined, licking at your lips as Bradley took a picture of you before setting it aside. And he'd fight a hundred more Carls who tried to take such a pretty photo away from him in the future. 

"Let's clean you up, Princess," he murmured, kneeling in front of you and swiping his fingers through his mess. You licked his fingers clean over and over again, and Bradley pressed his lips to yours tasting himself. Then he put your crown back on the bedpost where it belonged, accidentally bumping your butt as he hung it up.

"Oww," you whined as he helped you to your feet. "I'm sore."

"I know," he whispered, collapsing onto the bed and coaxing you on top of him. He ran his palm gently along your ass as you curled up with your cheek on his chest. "God, you're perfect."

"I've never been spanked before," you whispered, and Bradley smiled against the top of your head. 

"I've never spanked anyone before."

You looked up at him immediately. "You haven't?" you asked in awe. "I thought you and Meredith..."

But he just shook his head. "Who would I have done that with? I've never had a girlfriend who called me her Daddy before. You make me want to do everything with you."

He watched you preen as you propped yourself up on his chest. "Everything?"

"Everything."

You kissed his pecs as he handed your phone to you. "Am I ordering a new bed right now?" you asked with a little giggle. 

"Yes," he grunted. "Put it on your princess card."

You held up your phone so he could see the bed and mattress you picked out. King sized. Four poster. But he liked it even better than the one he had now. He nodded and watched you purchase it. You tossed the phone aside and whispered, "Just wait. I'll earn myself another spanking in no time."

Bradley kissed you and said, "I know you will. Now let's talk about Big Bear Lake."

"Big Bear Lake?" you asked with a yawn as Bradley continued to soothe your rear end with his hands. 

"Yeah," he rasped. "When can you take a few days off of work so I can spoil you and Noah with a little trip to the mountains? Penny, Mav and Amelia want to go. We'd have some built-in babysitters."

"Mmm," you hummed, a smile on your lips as you snuggled against him again. "Let me talk to Dr. Kelly." Then Bradley let you fall asleep in his arms.

-------------------------

When you woke up on Saturday morning, your butt was still sore, but you were smiling against Bradley's chest. "Morning, Princess," he murmured in your ear. "How you feeling?" He rubbed his hand down your back and gently cupped you.

"So good," you groaned. Truly, you had enjoyed every minute of last night. Plus you were getting a new bed in this room. And Bradley had never spanked anyone else. And you'd slept so well. You straddled his waist, ready to show him just how good you were feeling. "Daddy."

But then you heard Noah jump out of his bed and open his door, and you knew he'd be in your bedroom in a matter of seconds. Bradley sighed as you scrambled under the covers with him, brushing his cock which was already getting hard for you. "I mean, I love my son, but..." he said with a laugh.

"Don't you dare!" you replied with a scandalized giggle. "He's an angel."

"Daddy? Princess?" Noah asked as he pushed the door open. "I'm hungry." He was so sweet, standing there rubbing his eyes as he looked at both of you. 

"Head on into the kitchen, Bub," Bradley told him. "We'll make you something yummy."

Once Noah was gone again, Bradley rolled out of bed, and you wanted to reach for him as he pulled some underwear on. Then he set his gray sweatpants down next to you and said, "Take your time."

You stretched and tried to sit up, but your butt hurt so much. So you just pulled on the sweatpants and stopped in the bathroom on your way to the kitchen. When you looked in the mirror, you were smiling nonstop. And when you went to see what the boys were up to, you smelled coffee brewing and saw your favorite creamer on the counter. Bradley was standing in front of the open refrigerator, shaking his head. 

"What do you want to eat?" he was asking Noah. 

"Pancakes!" he replied from his seat at the table.

He grunted. "How about something I know how to make," he grumbled. "Let's give Princess a morning off."

"I can make pancakes," you insisted, and he turned to look at you over his shoulder with a smile. You kissed Noah on the head and asked, "You want butter and syrup? Some strawberries, too?"

"Yes, Mommy," he replied, looking up at you with questioning eyes. Your heart stopped. It must have. You were having a hard time breathing normally as you looked down into his brown eyes and then up into Bradley's. "Mommy?" Noah asked, quieter this time, and you didn't know how to respond. 

"Noah." His name felt so precious on your lips as tears came to your eyes. You weren't sure if this is what Bradley wanted. But you wanted it. You could tell you were on the verge of crying as you stroked Noah's hair with your fingers. 

When one tear streaked down your cheek, you asked Bradley, "Is that okay?"

He was right there with his hands at your waist and his lips next to your ear. "It's okay with me, Mommy."

You kissed your boyfriend hard on the lips before swiping at your cheeks and reaching for Noah. "Come here," you said, picking him up even though he was getting heavy and nuzzling your face to his neck. You kissed him and said, "Let's go find the strawberries in the refrigerator." 

When you pulled out the carton of berries, you let Noah hold them. He looked delighted as you kept kissing his cheek over and over again while Bradley got your coffee ready for you. And he was all smiles just like his son as you held back your tears. You loved both of them so much, and you didn't want to put Noah down. So you just stood in the middle of the kitchen with him in your arms while Bradley took the strawberries and washed them for you. 

Then you whispered to the child in your arms, "I love you, sweet Noah."

"I love you, too," he said with a smile. "But I'm hungry." 

"Right," you said with a laugh. "I'll make your pancakes." 

Bradley had been hanging back for a minute, giving you a moment with Noah, but now his arms were wrapped around you both. He kissed your temple before saying, "Come help me with the strawberries so Mommy can cook breakfast."

Your ears were ringing with the word Mommy. They both kept saying it. You didn't think you would ever stop smiling. You took a sip from Bradley's Getting high is part of my job mug, and you swore you had never tasted anything so delicious in your life. You made pancakes, and they turned out beautifully. You even made some for Noah roughly in the shape of suns and stars, and he looked delighted when you set them down in front of him. Then you cut them into smaller bites and added syrup and some of the strawberries Bradley had managed to cut up. 

"Thanks, Mommy," Noah said as he shoved a forkful into his mouth. Bradley was reaching for a few pancakes from the stack as he smiled at you, but you took the fork from his hand and settled onto his lap even though it hurt your butt.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him softly. "Thank you, Daddy," you whispered, combing your fingers through his hair. "I love him."

"I know you do," he replied, pulling you closer. "He's wanted to call you his Mommy for a while. I'm just happy you're okay with it."

You laughed and watched Noah eating a strawberry covered in syrup. "I'm more than okay with it."

-----------------------------

For the rest of the day, you and Noah were inseparable. You colored together and did some puzzles, and Noah sat on your lap while he ate lunch. And your smile was infectious. Bradley thought about engagement rings and your birth control for most of the day even though he knew he shouldn't. But how was he supposed to help himself when you were playing tic-tac-toe and eating ants on logs with his son? How was he supposed to put it off any longer when he saw how happy you were?

He texted Mav a few times, making sure he could secure that lake house for a long weekend. And when you convinced Noah to take an afternoon nap, Bradley had you in his arms in the quiet house. He scooped you up as you giggled. 

"Think I should mark you down as Noah's Mommy at the daycare center?" he asked, dropping you onto the bed and climbing on top of you. He made quick work of the gray sweatpants and your thong.

You moaned and said, "Casey would be so pissed off," as Bradley pulled his underwear down and stroked himself a few times. 

"Imagine how annoyed she'll be when I get a ring on your finger," he growled.

You gasped as he pushed his cock inside you, and Bradley devoured your lips with his. You gaped up at him as he pushed your thighs wide and looped his arms around your legs. "Daddy," you whine softly, just spurring him on. He wanted to be gentle, because he knew you were still sore. But he felt feral inside. He wanted to mark you as his own. 

It didn't last long, and as soon as he filled your pussy up with his cum, Bradley pulled you against his side for an afternoon nap in the now silent house. He dozed with you and ran his hand along your back, enjoying the soft sound of your even breaths. He had promised Nat that he would make an appearance at the Hard Deck tonight after missing out on so many weeks. When everyone was awake, he would check to see if Amelia could come over and watch Noah for a few hours. 

But when you woke up and went right back to playing and snuggling with Noah who kept calling you Mommy, he shouldn't have been surprised at all that you didn't want to go out. As soon as he mentioned the bar, you looked up at him from the craft project taking place on the living room floor like he was very simple. 

"What would I want to go out tonight? Noah and I are busy. Besides, if I go and that Beau Simpson guy is there and touches me again, he's getting slapped."

Bradley knelt down and kissed you with a grin. "That's Mav's boss. You know that, right?" 

"I don't care who he is," you huffed, gluing construction paper together. 

"We'll stay in," Bradley whispered, but you were already shaking your head.

"Go out with Nat. I'll stay here with this sweet boy."

Bradley studied you as you looked at him. Your hand was rubbing Noah's back as he used some safety scissors to turn orange paper into a confetti mess that Bradley would be all too happy to clean up later. Because he could tell you were finally feeling like you belonged here without any stipulations or an expiration date. "You want me to go out for a bit?" he asked softly. "So you can have a night with Noah all to yourself?"

You nodded with a smile and said, "It'll be just like when you had the dating app. You'll go out for a few hours and rush back home pretending you're not completely smitten with me and just dying to have a flirtatious conversation on the couch."

Bradley groaned softly and kissed your lips. "I wasn't hiding it very well, was I?"

"No," you whispered. "But neither was I."

"I love you. I'll ask Nat to pick me up for a few hours so you and Noah can play together."

And the two of you were still playing in the living room when Nat arrived to pick him up. You'd turned the couch cushions into a little tunnel and a fort, and you were laying in it together watching Mickey Mouse on TV and eating popcorn. Bradley had to laugh, because he may as well have gone out for the entire afternoon since neither of you noticed him cleaning up the rest of the house as you laughed. 

"Hey, Natasha!" you said, offering her some popcorn.

Nat took a few kernels and asked, "You're not coming out with us?" as she ruffled Noah's hair. 

"No," you replied easily. "I'm going to stay in tonight with the little guy. You got the big one."

Nat groaned as Bradley grabbed his house key. "He used to be fun to go out with. Now he just talks about you all night and mopes when you're not there."

"Sorry?" But you were laughing and looking at Bradley.

"Don't be sorry. I love to see a grown man turn pathetic," Nat replied, winking at you. "Come on, Rooster."

Bradley knelt and then crawled across the floor to kiss Noah. "Love you," he said. Then he leaned closer to you and kissed your cheek. "Love you too, Princess."

When he grunted as he stood, you laughed and said, "Don't drink too much, old man." And then they were gone and you snuggled with Noah.

"Mommy, will you make me ants?" he asked softly when the popcorn was gone. 

"At this rate, you might turn into an ant," you told him, tickling his sides as he laughed hysterically. His chubby little cheeks were pink, and he looked so happy. He was a tiny, overjoyed version of Bradley, and you loved him so much.

"An ant! Mommy, you're funny," he giggled, and you scooped him up and took him into the kitchen. Once you peeled and sliced the carrots, you let him use a spoon to glob the peanut butter on them, and subsequently also on the kitchen counter. He sprinkled on some raisins and took a bite. 

By the time you got him into a bath, he had peanut butter everywhere, and your face hurt from smiling. You and he had a rubber duck battle until your clothing was wet. And you read eight books to him before bed, including the ones that you picked out at the bookshop with Bradley. Noah was yawning and trying to keep his eyes open as he sat on your lap, and if this is what being his Mom was like, you never wanted it to stop.

"Love you, sweet Noah," you whispered, smothering him in kisses once he was in bed. You quietly organized the books on his shelf and watched him drift to sleep. You turned on his night light and eventually slipped out of his bedroom. Then you leaned against the wall in the hallway, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by everything. 

Then you giggled. Bradley mentioned a ring earlier. Noah felt like he was yours. Bradley felt like he'd never let you go. All of the sweet gestures and the afternoon sex left you tingling. When you went to turn on his favorite song so you could take a shower, you saw a message from Natasha on your phone. 

Fair warning... he's pretty drunk. I'll return him home in one piece, but then he's your problem.

You took a quick shower, still smiling, and then slipped into a pair of your underwear and one of Bradley's oversized tropical print shirts that fell to your mid thigh. You did up most of the buttons and grabbed some Skittles from the kitchen. You were about halfway through a documentary about a serial killer when you heard someone pull into the driveway. 

Your heart beat a little faster as you peeked out the window and watched Bradley being led up the sidewalk by his best friend. "Easy," Natasha said as if she was talking to a confused animal. 

"Just wanna see her," he replied, way too loud as she tried to quiet him down. 

"She lives with you now, Rooster. You see her all the time."

Bradley just stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and started to chuckle. "She fucking lives with me, Nat. It's wild, right? Like she lives here now."

"Yes, she does," Nat grunted, trying to push him the rest of the way up to the porch. But he wasn't budging, and you were laughing now. You decided to give her a break and open the front door.

"Hi," you said softly, and then Bradley was coming for you so fast, Natasha almost lost her footing. You were in his arms before you could say anything else. He smelled like cheap beer, and his eyes were soft as he looked at you. "Did you have fun, Daddy?"

"Mmm," he hummed, pushing you backwards into the house. "Love it when you call me that."

You giggled as you felt his mustache on your neck, and you waved to his best friend as she headed back to her SUV. Bradley kicked the door closed behind him as you whispered, "I think you missed me."

He had one big hand at the back of your neck and the other was up underneath the shirt, skimming along your still sore rear end, making you press yourself against him. "You're so pretty, Baby."

You felt warm all over as he patted your butt gently with a little smirk on his face. You gasped and clung to him, your arms looped around his neck, and then his lips found yours. He tasted like beer, and as you parted your lips for him, he backed you up against the TV stand. It was just like the first night he kissed you, and he was still as gentle as he always was, if not a tiny bit more demanding. 

"I love you," he grunted. "And you're wearing my shirt. Looks great on you."

"Tell me about your night, Daddy," you coaxed, running your fingers through his hair. 

But he just started rambling as he unbuttoned the shirt with clumsy fingers. "Gonna take you to that lake house. Already talked to Penny about it tonight." Then he abandoned the buttons and cupped your chin in one big palm. His eyes were hazy and fighting for focus as he kissed your forehead. His voice was deep and filled with something a little dangerous as he asked, "When you gonna let me fuck a baby into you?"

He was stroking your jaw with his long fingers, eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer as the TV stand pressed into the backs of your thighs. He was more than twelve years older than you, and he'd been hinting at this for a while. It had always sounded appealing, but now that the three of you were on the same page about Noah calling you Mommy, you wanted it even more. "We should talk about this when you're sober," you told him, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 

"You know I'm gonna feel the same way tomorrow," he whispered, a soft smile touching his lips now. "I'm getting old, Princess. I want another baby. With you."

He was such a good father, so patient and loving with Noah. The idea of him holding a tiny baby- your tiny baby- was almost too much. You let your head tip back as you moaned, "You're not old, Daddy. You're a classic. Let's go to bed."

After he carried you to the bedroom and set you down in bed, he pushed you back against the pillows with his delicious body weight. "You're not wrong. I've been drinking. You don't owe me a real response tonight. But next time we talk about it, I want an answer from you."

You nodded as he eased his body away from yours, and you watched him strip out of his clothing and head to the bathroom. You were going to have to figure out a way to put your feelings into words. 

---------------------------

Princess Mommy and her purple credit card. Fucking lucky bitch (affectionate). Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 35

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

[margowritesthings]

I'll Be Home for Christmas (If Only in My Dreams)

A Christmas gift for @cassidylynnj <3

Being shut away in a safehouse wasn't exactly how you wanted to spend this Christmas, but somehow Steve and Bucky manage to bring some festive cheer to you.

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes word count: 5520 words warnings/tags: starts out a little sad, flirty Bucky, ever so slight suggestive language, brief mentions of passed loved ones/grief, lots and lots of festive fluff tbh authors note: Happy belated Christmas! I wrote this as a fic exchange with my wonderful friend @cassidylynnj. A lot of this was completely new to me, including writing Steve, but I loved creating it! I hope y'all have had a lovely, restful season and I wish you all the absolute best for 2025!

Christmas divider by @saradika-graphics

Endless white nothing. 

It’s been 3 weeks since that day, when Bucky showed up at your work with a packed bag and a deep line between his brows, ushering you out and promising to explain when you got there. Where there is, you’re still not sure. James drove for hours, and once it got dark, it was difficult to decipher any road signs. He dodged every question, though you spotted that wince he couldn’t hide every time you asked how long you were going to be gone. Your heart sank a little, your Christmas shopping list still lying discarded on the kitchen island now. 

The two of you drove deep into the woods, the headlights the only things leading the way around winding paths and douglas firs. Steve was already waiting for you at the cabin, so secluded you’re sure somebody threw a dart at a map to decide where to build the thing. Bucky always was harder to read, but the second you saw Steve’s face, you knew something was horribly wrong. The tension in his jaw, the way neither of them could properly look you in the eye in case they saw just how sad you were and caved. They told you everything, taking it in turns to divulge all the terrible, awful details, but you could hardly concentrate over the ringing in your ears. The short of it was this: Avenger’s loved ones were being targeted and people were getting hurt. Laura Barton had been attacked on her own farm, and somebody had shown up at Morgan’s school. The others were taking precautions and Steve and Bucky weren’t planning on being exceptions. You’d stay here, in hiding, while other family members of Avengers were scattered around the globe until they neutralised the threat. This little cabin in the woods was to be your home… for as long as it took. 

The first week was almost peaceful. Steve and Bucky came and went between watch shifts and meetings, and even though you had to ditch your phone on the way here, it kind of felt like a detox. None of the noise of daily life, a forceful break from social media, not even the mad Christmas rush at work. The log cabin was small, but cozy. Draughty, but the boys made sure the fireplace was always stoked. Completely isolated, but a little bubble that Steve and Bucky visited to cuddle and eat with you and every so often stay over. Sometimes, it’d just be one, but occasionally you’d be lucky enough to get squished up between the two of them while they showed you just how grateful they were that you were safe. There was even a stunning view, picturesque trees dusted with snow, tiny flakes falling from the sky. 

But as bubbles often do, it burst. One week turned to two which turned to three, the possibility of going home for Christmas becoming bleaker. Your boys got busier with the mission, the visits got fewer and farther between, and suddenly you found the days dragging, the worry getting so much more intense and harder to ignore. The snow fell heavier, until the vivid green leaves were swallowed up and the ground was so thick with it you could no longer see the deer tracks.

Which brings you here. With your forehead pressed against the window, your breath fogging up the cold glass. It’s all you can see. Endless white nothing. Your mind is churning, as it often does by this window. Worrying about damn near everything, missing your family, wondering just how long they can keep you cooped up in here. No, that isn’t fair. You’re here for your own safety, you know that. Steve and Bucky are doing everything they can to keep you alive, as are the rest of the team. You’re so grateful, of course you are, but it’s not all that easy. The lonely days can drag, the whistling wind sometimes the only reprieve from an unforgiving silence. At first, you tried to write, reframing this whole ordeal as some sort of retreat, but your muse quickly depleted around the same time your festive spirit and optimism did, making it oh so difficult to tell the difference between the empty page in front of you and the snowstorm outside. 

Thoughts drift to home as you pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them in tightly. Wondering if your loved ones have finished their Christmas shopping, if your cousin has matched her ribbons to her wrapping paper again or if your nephew has gone to meet Santa yet. Thinking about the cookies you were so looking forward to making everyone, the new cutters you bought probably collecting dust in the drawer right now.

You’re debating if your neighbour has opened the packages you ordered when the wind breaks through the doorway, almost killing the quickly dwindling fire as Steve and Bucky both bundle inside. Though they bring a chill in with them, the warmth you feel at the sight of them seems to thaw a little of that wretched numbness growing in you. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you stand to greet them, feeling the blood rush back into your toes now that you’re not scrunched in on yourself.

“Missed you, sweetheart,” Bucky mumbles first over the thick collar of his coat, “You doin’ alright?” He sets the logs he’s carrying down by the fireplace, coming back to wrap his arms around you and place a kiss on your forehead. You nod, though Bucky doesn’t look convinced as his eyes scan over your features. 

Steve discards his portion of firewood in the same pile as Bucky’s, your body instinctively turning to his when he comes for his kiss. He blows into his hands for a moment, breath warming his palms just enough to take the edge off when he cups your cheeks to raise your face up to his. Your lips meet in a tender kiss, while Bucky’s hands fall to your hips. Somehow, even though they’re fresh from a snowstorm, they’re two pillars of warmth. Some of the heaviness clinging to you dissipates instantly.

“You’re freezing, angel,” Steve almost scolds, glancing over to the fireplace. “You been sitting here all morning?” 

When he lets go of your cheeks to go and fix the fire, you nod again, needing to clear your stuck throat before you can speak actual words for the first time since they were last here. “There’s not much else to do,” You explain simply, trying not to sound so ungrateful for your safety. “I missed you both, though.” 

“We missed you so much, doll,” Bucky whispers into your ear, his breath tickling the shell as he pulls you into him from behind. “You’ve gotta keep that fire going, though, baby. This storm ain’t a joke.” 

You hold back a scoff. As if you didn’t know, as if that storm isn’t the only thing keeping you company lately. A shrug of your shoulders as you tilt your head to the side to let Bucky pepper kisses on your neck. Steve takes no time at all to revive the fire, expert hands working to warm the room back up. 

Soon, the three of you are bundled on the sofa, blanket draped over all six legs and thirty toes. Bucky has his warmer arm around you, while Steve draws gentle circles and swirls in the thighs you’ve draped over his. Right now, you’re right where you belong, sandwiched between your boys. It’s enough to drive away all those lonely thoughts. Enough to be completely content for now. 

You’re trying so hard not to think about the fact that, even though they’ve just got here, they’ll eventually have to leave again. So lost in trying to enjoy the here and now that you completely miss the worried glances Steve and Bucky are sending over your head, debating who’s going to be the one to ask without having to say a single word. A language built upon nearly a century of connection you often feel honoured to exist in the middle of. 

The circles on your leg still, which pulls your attention to Steve. He shifts in his seat. Clears his throat.

“So how are you, sweetheart? Really, I mean… I know it’s not easy, but-”

“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine,” you answer too soon, suddenly not able to look either of them in the eye. You don’t want to complain, don’t want to be any more of a bother than you already feel when all of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes are working to protect you while you rattle around in here. 

“Talk to us, doll…” Bucky implores, pulling you closer into him, “We’re worried about you. Can’t help if you shut us out”

“Don’t be,” you plead, finally dragging your eyes up to meet his, hating the concern you see written on both their faces, “I’m okay. I just…” feel lonely while you’re out risking your lives to protect me, miss the christmas tree while my life is in danger? Your throat tightens. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Steve says softly, his palm now splayed across your thigh and squeezing gently, “You don’t have to carry this on your own.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Bucky adds, pressing a kiss atop your head. His too kind words make you flinch away. 

“You’re doing enough for me. For all of us. You don’t need to be worrying about me missing a stupid Christmas tree on top of all that.” You’re embarrassed that you’ve even said it aloud, even though you know the issue runs much deeper than that. Bucky and Steve’s eyes both flicker between you and each other, while you wish the ground would just swallow you up whole in punishment for your outburst. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just… not so easy, being alone like this all the time. I miss everyone, miss my friends, my family… my little flat with the Christmas lights I put up and that tree we decorated together… I know I must sound insane, thinking about all this trivial, meaningless stuff while people are in so much danger. I just can’t help it when I’m up here all on my own.” 

You watch Steve deflate in real time, his shoulders sinking as he processes your words. He pulls his hand out from under the blanket, grabbing yours to bring it to his lips. The kiss is tender and warming on your skin and it makes your chest ache. Even amongst all this, they always find kindness. 

“You’re not insane, baby. Not even close,” Bucky whispers into your hair, “and we’re so sorry you have to go through this.”

Tears well in your eyes at his apology. “No, no, please don’t apologise. I know you’re doing everything you can and I’m so so grateful and-”

“Hey, hey… it’s alright,” Steve soothes, his voice steady. “We know how grateful you are. But we’re also sorry. What you’re going through right now is tough, sweetheart, and it breaks my heart every time we have to leave. Trust me when I tell you we’re going as fast as we can so me and Buck can get you back home. With us. Where you belong.”

The picture forms so clearly in your mind. In your own bed, squished between two heated bodies, hard muscles and soft skin and long nights and slow kisses and all the time in the world. No stolen moments between missions, checking the clock and watching on alert every time a deer stalked past. You’d like that. Very much so. 

“She’s right though, Steve,” Bucky starts, fingers absentmindedly running through a little section of hair fallen free from your ponytail, “it is depressing as shit in here. I’ve seen barracks more festive than this.”

Steve’s frown forms at Bucky’s choice of language, but it settles into the lines in his forehead as he looks around the palace you’ve tried so hard to call home these last weeks. It’s pretty bare, with each piece of furniture a different soulless shade of grey. A far cry from the festive sanctuary you’d left behind.

Fingers still entwined in yours, Steve straightens his spine and leans forward in his seat. 

He pulls a genuine laugh from you for the first time in days when he says, “It is depressing as shit.”

They stayed for as long as they possibly could, talking through everything with you until that heaviness on your chest was replaced with a quiet hope. You kissed them both and saw them out, waving them off until they were tiny dots in the snow. Missing the plans that formed on their cold walk back to base. 

You feel refreshed after talking so openly with Steve and Bucky, determined to approach the rest of your time here with optimism and kindness to yourself. Keep the fire stoked, get dressed every day, keep your daily gratitudes. Make the best of what you have, especially when your boys are here. Stay strong. If not for yourself, then to make this all worth it.

You’re folding paper you’d found in a cupboard into a makeshift journal when you first hear muffled voices. It startles you, expecting neither Steve nor Buck to be back with you so soon and deducing the origin must be something violent. You stand, survival instinct making you wield a nearby pen as some sort of magic wand as your defense from the intruder. As the voices get louder, panic sets in and numbs your tongue. The door swings open, revealing the very tip of a… tree?

“I really don’t think this is gonna go through the doorway, Buck.”

“It’ll fit. We’ll make it fit.”

“I’ve heard that before.” “Yeah, and haven’t I always made it fit?” 

You can feel the glare Steve is throwing Bucky through the wall of the cabin, no x-ray vision required. You lower the pen to your side as your curiosity takes over, walking you to the doorway. Sure enough, your boys are back, standing on either end of a huge douglas fir, snow still clinging to its leaves that shake off onto the porch.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky stands up front, gripping the top of the tree with his vibranium hand while waving with the other. He grins like a kid at… well, Christmas. “Couldn’t stay away from ya’. Figured we’d bring you a little something to cheer you up.”

“A little something? That thing is huge.” You retort, the smile on your face betraying the accusation in your voice.

“Bigger’s better.” Bucky smirks, raising and lowering his eyebrows suggestively. You’re giggling, so hard you almost miss Steve grumble from the back end of the tree.

“Yeah, yeah, Buck, your dick is huge. We know. Can we get this thing inside before we let all the cold in?” 

Somehow, in Bucky’s infinite wisdom, they do make it fit, and are pulling the very base of the tree through the doorway when you can finally get your hands on them. The cold clinging to both of them bites at your skin but you don’t care as you drag them both closer to you.

“I didn’t think I’d see either of you again today… Especially not with a big ass Christmas tree. What’s going on?”

“Couldn’t stand to see you so sad, sweetheart. There’s not much we can do about being stuck here, but you said you missed Christmas so we figured we’d bring a little Christmas to you.” Steve presses a kiss to the top of your head as you snuggle into them, only now noticing the backpacks they’re both carrying too. 

“There’s not much to work with out here, so we had to go old school,” Bucky explains, pulling away from the hug briefly to shrug his bag off his shoulder and drop it next to the tree.

“It’s traditional,” Steve counters, almost scolding in his tone. “Christmas like when me and Buck were kids.”

“Same thing.” Bucky shrugs, while your gaze falls to the tree taking up nearly half the space of your cabin.

“Did… did you cut this down just now?”

“Ain’t no tree store in the middle of nowhere, doll.” 

You roll your eyes at Bucky’s smart mouth, playfully pinching his bicep before breaking away from them to get a better look at the tree. It really is ridiculously large and you’re 90% sure it won’t even stand without bending at the ceiling, but your heart still aches at the thought of what Bucky and Steve have done for you. The thought of them bickering out there in the snow, wanting to find you the very best one to put a smile back on your face has your cheeks straining. 

“And… What's in the bags? If I even dare ask.” The grin is unstoppable now as you watch Steve and Buck take off their coats and shake the snow from themselves..

“Supplies, of course.” Buck teases, kissing your cheek on his way to the kitchen, “200, right?” 

“200,” Steve confirms to Bucky, picking up both bags before you get the chance of a sneak peek. “Patience, baby.” He winks, playful, boyish grin lighting his face up. 

“200 what?” You follow them both into the kitchen, finding Bucky fiddling with the oven while Steve unpacks both bags out onto the island. So far, you can spot some twine, matches, and a tinfoil parcel that you think might be popcorn.

“Degrees,” Bucky says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You didn’t eat all those oranges, did you?” 

He looks relieved when you slowly shake your head no, your mind whirring to catch up with your surroundings. Popcorn, oranges… old school, Bucky had said.

“We’re making Christmas decorations?” You guess, hope and excitement blending into a smile that makes it all worth it for Steve and Buck.

“Clever girl.” Bucky praises, as Steve starts pulling an assortment of candles and tealights from the second bag. There’s a whole pile of stuff now: pomegranates, candy canes, newspapers, even-

“Is that an iPod Nano??” The astonishment in your voice is clear as you pick the little purple device up, the screen lighting up in your palm. An old school Christmas, indeed.

Steve looks a strange mixture of proud and somewhat confused when he pulls out a portable speaker and adds, ”Bruce set it up for us. Says it’s completely untraceable, but he put all the Christmas songs on there. Every single one.” 

He’s not wrong. You spin your thumb around the pressure pad, watching Earth’s entire festive discography flash before your eyes. Everyone from Mariah Carey to Nat King Cole. Emotion wells in your chest, forms tears that sit on your waterline. This is too much. Everything they’re already doing for you, and now this? Working so hard to keep you happy. 

“You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble, you know you’re doing enough…” You mumble, watching both frowns develop simultaneously. Gods, you don’t want to sound so ungrateful again, but it’s hard sometimes not to feel like such a burden when two supersoldiers wait on you hand and foot.

“And miss Christmas with our favourite girl? I don’t think so.” Bucky weaves around the island to find his way to you and Steve. You feel the cold pinch of vibranium on flesh as he takes your hand to bring it up to his lips. He lowers his voice, “you know we’d go to the ends of the Earth for you, doll. Pulling down a tree or two is nothing.”

And you know he means it. They both do. They’d tear the multiverse apart for you, spend their Christmas swapping watch duties to keep you safe, even find you a freaking iPod Nano in the grand old age of 2024. You look between them, finding such honesty and love in their eyes your heart hurts.

That smile starts to warm you from the inside out again as you clutch the Nano tight to your chest. It might actually be your favourite Christmas present ever. 

“You ready to bring a little Christmas cheer to this place, angel?” Steve asks, hand cupping the back of your head. You nod, unable to actually stop smiling now they’ve convinced you that you’re worth all this and more. 

“So ready.” You dock the iPod, while Steve and Bucky both gently caress your back through your cable jumper. The moment is so tender and perfect and-

“YOU’RE HERE, WHERE YOU SHOULD BE-” Kelly Clarkson screeches, making all three of you jump an inch. Now shaking fingers quickly manage to shut the song off, leaving you with the residue of Bucky’s laughter ringing in the air. You can’t help but giggle too, watching two of the world’s bravest heroes startled by an American Idol.

“Sorry, sorry. Modern Christmas music is not the vibe, noted.” You hold your hands up in a mock surrender before turning back to the speaker dock. “Wait, hang on, I think it’s sorted by year…” you think aloud, scrolling all the way back to the top. To the likes of Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald. 

Dulcet tones fill the space between your bodies when you press play, classic strings melting into the honeyed, mellow voice of Bing Crosby telling the three of you to have yourselves a merry little Christmas. The room feels warmer already, absolutely nothing to do with the roaring fire and everything to do with the love woven into this gesture the boys have done for you. You feel so seen, so known, so unbelievably loved it almost hurts. 

“Thank you so much for this. Both of you.”

“Don’t thank us yet, doll. Not before we’ve actually managed to get that tree up and standing,” Bucky jokes, eyes now flickering between the fir and the space it should be filling. 

First things first, though, the oranges. 

“You’ve gotta have them in at the lowest heat for about 2 hours,” Steve explains, slicing the fruit on a board while you lay the pieces on a baking tray. You’ve never done anything like this, most of your ornaments back home hand-me-downs from family or bought at Bryant Park. There’s something really special about it, though, being taught how by men who lived in a world before tacky glittery Christmas abominations took over the world.

“And they have to be the same thickness, or else they’ll dry unevenly,” Steve adds. You look to Bucky just in time to catch his playful eye roll.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Bucky taunts, saluting the Captain (of orange slices) with a stupidly serious expression on his face. You hold your giggle best you can, batting Buck lightly on his metal arm. 

“Hey! Leave him alone,” you scold, lacking any sort of conviction when you let him pull your back up against his chest.

As Steve finishes up slicing the last orange, you start to lay the slices on the tray. They both watch you fondly, Steve thinking aloud, “I used to do this with my Ma before the war. She taught me all the tricks.”

You can just see it now: a little Steve meticulously watching to make sure each piece of the garland was sliced evenly.

“We did it too,” Bucky adds, “but me and Becks just fought over who got to eat the leftover slices.”

There’s a moment where each heart in the room aches for those who aren’t, who can’t be. You wish you could have met their families, Steve’s mother, Bucky’s little sister, and thanked them for making your boys just the way they are. Steve and Bucky long for the same, think about how much they’d all truly love you. The moment passes slowly, softly, fondly. Sealed with a kiss Bucky presses to your temple from behind and one from Steve on your knuckle.

The smell of citrus still hangs in the air by the time Steve and Bucky are bickering over the tree, orange slices now drying out in the oven. You’ve been set on paper chain duty, watching them both from the couch as you cut bits of paper up into neat strips. It’s pretty much your own personal sitcom, Steve currently the only one holding the tree while Bucky looks on.

“Yeah, no. A little more to the left, actually. No, the other left. My left,” he sneers, earning a huff from Steve. He lifts the thing with ease, but by the eighth adjustment you’re not sure how long before the thing might be thrown across the room. 

“I think it’s perfect right there,” you quickly add, your eyes following the branches upwards to see the tip of the tree bend at a right angle across the ceiling. “...Absolutely perfect.” 

You mean it, too. It’s way too big for this room, shedding pine needles all over the place and has a definite tilt to its posture, but you’ve never seen a more beautiful tree in all your life… You just hope it stays upright till New Year.

Steve takes full credit for the tree, ‘since I did all the heavy lifting’, while Bucky tries to claim the title of project manager. One look at you, wrapped in masses of colourful, masterful paper chains, and they both know who’s really the boss here. Which is why they both follow your carefully thought out delegations in the kitchen. 

“Why does Steve get the fun job?” Bucky whines, frowning at the pomegranate you’ve handed him as if it has personally offended him.

“Because I don’t trust you with the popcorn,” you answer, narrowing your eyes. “Or an open flame,” Steve adds, earning a swat from Bucky.

“It’s a precise science,” Steve explains to you, as if he’s creating a new supersoldier serum in a lab rather than cooking popcorn. One hand holds the handle of the pot, the other keeps the lid closed as he slowly shakes the kernels around the flame.

You don’t need to be looking at Bucky to know he just rolled his eyes. You’ve seen him throw a bag into the microwave and forget about it on more than one occasion, leaving your apartment to smell like burn for days to come. Really, you didn’t mind. Every time you came home, it made you think of him. 

“Sure it is, Captain Kernel.” Buck mumbles, hitting the back of the pomegranate so hard he dents the rind and sends seeds shooting across the room. You pull one from your hair as you turn to him, soft laugh ringing through the room.

“I thought I was Captain Oranges? You can’t keep reusing the same jokes, pretty boy.”

“Sure I can. It’s Christmas,” Bucky argues with a ridiculous pout, reaching to pull another seed from your hair and popping it in his mouth before pulling you closer, a sticky mess of pomegranate juice waiting for you when you get there.

“Bucky!” You shriek, squirming in his arms as he laughs, utterly unrepentant. 

“You all good over there, baby? Need me to stage a rescue?” Steve hasn’t stopped shaking the pan, never disrupting the rhythm, though he has leaned in closer to listen out for any pops over the squealing.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Bucky answers before you can, still pressing sticky, pomegranate kisses to whatever skin he can reach. “Just a little sticky.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Barnes,” you grumble, wiping some of the juice from your cheek with the back of your hand.

“You’re damn right I’m lucky,” he quips, with a cocky grin, loosening his grip just enough to let you squirm free, though not before stealing one last kiss. 

When the corn is popped and the seeds are neatly in a bowl (your own doing), it’s time for the thread. This step does little more to capture Bucky’s attention than the fruit bashing did. He quickly gets distracted with trying to eat as much as he can and inappropriately touching you and Steve, both of which he manages quite a lot of. It’s a delicate task that takes enough time to bring the iPod through to the 50s and into the songs the boys aren’t so familiar with. Still classics, like Eartha Kitt and Chuck Berry, but past Steve and Bucky’s time. Vintage to you, but a strange shard of the unknown future they missed to them. 

This decade of music brings a little more energy into the cabin, and by this time, the entire place smells like sweet citrus and pine. A truly festive attack on the senses. The orange slices have dried enough to thread, which you and Steve team up to tackle while Bucky lights the candles. Apparently, Steve would prefer Bucky be in charge of open flames rather than sharp needles. You’re so content in this bubble, so lost in each activity that you’ve hardly noticed the sun setting outside. The candlelight feels intimate and cozy as the three of you finally decorate the place. Hanging paper chains from the walls, wrapping your freshly made garlands around the tree. 

“Aren’t they so perfectly seeded?” Bucky teases as he lifts you up onto his shoulders, allowing you to reach the tallest part of the tree to hang some of the oranges up there.

“Masterfully done, darling,” you respond, tongue pressed between your teeth as you reach for the farthest branch you can, “don’t think we could do Christmas without you.”

Steve helps you down, your frame landing right up against his as his hands fall to your hips. You feel every hard muscle against your supple body, every ridge and mound and-

“Are those candy canes in your pocket, Captain Rogers, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Both. Can’t it be both?” He teases, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’d honestly be kind of disappointed if it wasn’t.” 

Bucky joins you at your back. “Alright, lovebirds. Break it up. I was told I had to behave at least until we finished the tree, Rodgers. No cheating.”

You’re reluctantly separated to focus on hanging candy canes by a suddenly all too dedicated to the cause Sargeant, giggling and teasing as he slips several into his own pocket for later. 

The very last ornament fits right in the middle of the tree, which Steve lifts you a couple of inches off the ground to reach. The three of you stand back, admiring your handiwork. Leaning to one side, too big for the room. It’s messy and uneven and may fall down at any moment, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so beautiful in your entire life. 

“You think we did good, doll?” Bucky asks, the soft candlelight glowing against his skin.

“I think we did perfect.”

And the moment is just that: perfect. Peaceful and cozy and wonderful… until Elton John starts shouting about Christmas. It’s so jarring you snort, heading over to the speaker before you have to attempt to explain the concept of Elton John to men born in the 1910s. “Sorry, on it.” 

You scroll back through the ages, eyes scanning over each song title until you stop near the top. 

I’ll Be Home For Christmas - Bing Crosby.

A smile twitches onto your lips, heat blooming from your chest. That was what started this whole thing, wanting to go home for Christmas. Yet now, looking at your boys in front of the tree they cut down with their own two hands, the one you decorated together as a family, you realise you’ve never felt so at home in your life. 

The mood instantly fixes itself as the song plays. You stand thoughtful for a moment, before you feel that familiar warmth at your back. Steve.

“Dance with me?” He whispers, fingers already running around your waist to spin you into him. He holds you in the traditional position, left hand holding yours, right on your waist as you both sway to the melody. Your eyes meet in a tender moment that feels like it lasts a lifetime, but Bing is only singing his second verse when you hear: 

“Can I cut in?” Bucky’s voice interrupts, playful and hopeful and happy after watching you and Steve.

Somehow, you fit perfectly between them as the three of you dance together. It feels like a moment you could bottle in a snowglobe: the music, the warmth, the candlelight. A Christmas unlike any other, with more heart and love than you’ve ever known, not a single bit of glitter in sight. 

Eventually, the song fades into another, leaving you all standing in this tangled embrace. In front of your perfect, messy tree.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve echoes, his head resting atop yours thanks to the considerable height difference.

“Merry Christmas, boys,” you whisper back, eyes glistening as you unravel just enough to look up at them. “I love you both so very much.”

And it doesn’t matter where you are geographically on the 25th of December. It never did. You were always going to be home for Christmas, as long as Steve and Bucky were by your side.

[pricetagofficial]

Day 18: Snowball Fight

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, Snowball Massacre™️

A/N: Welcome to day 18! It has been a while since I have written for Jason, so I hope this lives up to it! Header by me, and divider by @cafekitsune

Masterlist

What had started out as a walk through Robinson Park, was not how things ended.

You and Jason decided it was a nice day to go out, and enjoy the snowy weather and each other's company. Lately, he'd been so busy helping the other bats in Gotham that he didn't have much time with you.

Both of you could feel that light tension, of weeks of not having longer than a few moments alone together. So this afternoon was long overdue.

Jason must have been so content, and honestly distracted by the time he spent with you he didn't notice the group of what he likes to call feral gremlins following you.

That was, until he got a snowball to the back of his head.

Turning on his heel immediately, Jason put himself in front of you effectively being the barrier for whoever threw that.

Peeking out around him, you looked up. "Jay, what happened?"

"Some fucker thought it'd be funny to throw a snowball." he grumbled.

"A snowball?"

Jason nodded, before he nudged you gently. "You see that log over there?"

Looking to your side, you saw the large snow covered log. Nodding in response, you gripped his hand.

"When I give you the sign, make a run and duck behind that. But first, be a doll, and make me a snowball real quick?"

You gave Jason an incredulous look, before you gathered a lump of snow and formed it into a ball before placing it into his hand.

"Thanks, Princess. The second this ball leaves my hand, make a break for it."

Jason looked around, his sharp eyes trained for moments like this. He knew they were there, even if he couldn't see them. But he didn't expect anything less from these people.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. Not waiting a moment, Jason turned and threw the snowball. Immediately, you took off running hearing a grunt of pain.

Jason was right behind you as a barrage of snowballs began to fly towards you. The second you hid behind the log, you began to make snowball after snowball helping Jasno get supplied for the sudden snowball fight you were drug into.

Peeking up, you watched as Jason threw another and nailed someone in the face.

"Gotcha Replacement!"

"Fuck you! We're not all snipers like you are!"

The laugh Jason let out warmed your heart. There was once a time Jason tried to kill Tim, and hated him enough to do it. Now here he was, engaged in a snowball fight.

Grabbing another, Jason threw it and nailed another person in the face.

"What the hell! That's not fair!

"Not my fault you can't hide in that purple monstrosity of a coat."

One by one, Jason nailed everyone in the face. Tim, Stephanie, Duke, Damian, Cass, Barbara he got in the shoulder out of respect. That, and she might actually kill him if he got her in the face.

There was only one person left, and arguably he was more dangerous than Jason.

Both of you were at the ready for the slightest tell of where he could be. You were so focused, that you didn't until a snowball was mushed on top of both of your heads.

"Gotch, Little Wing."

Looking up, you saw Dick with his million-dollar grin, and a mischievous glint in his eyes. A glint you knew meant trouble, and you did not want to be caught in it this time.

Quickly you crawled away as Jason turned and tackled Dick into the snow and began throwing it at him while laughing.

What was a snowball fight, turned into a snowball massacre, and was now just a snow fight between Dick and Jason.

Stepping to the side, you were soon joined by everyone else as they all had marks on their face from where the snowball got them, Tim's right in the middle of his forehead.

"So, how long do you think these two will be?" Duke asked.

You shared a look with everyone.

"Might as well tell Bruce they will be running a little late."

Duke looked confused. "Patrol doesn't start for another five hours?"

"Better make that really late."

[filmofhybe]

when enhypen sees a beautiful fan ( maknae - line )

pairing -enhypen maknae line ! x reader genre -idol! x fan! , fluff warning - none 400-450 words per member

> masterlist of my other works

> Hyung line

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

정원 jungwon

Man had heart eyes

It was during send off for their tour when he first saw you.

You somehow stuck out the most out of everyone

when he was around your barricade area he was hoping you would ask him for a picture or just ANYTHING

“Jungwon~ can we get a polaroid together?”

YOUR VOICE MATCHED YOU SO WELL so soft and delicate

“ ye-yes of course.” He stuttered so badly cuz how can he not after a beautiful girl just asked him for a POLAROID PICTURE WITH HIM?

His hands was shaking when you handed him your polaroid😞 bless him

He held the camera up and took a picture with you. While you air cupped his cute cheeks (cause your respectful) and did a kissy face near his cheek.

Oh how much he wished you would actually kiss his cheeks

He grabbed a pen and signed the polaroid before handing it back to you.

You were so excited you didn’t even realize jungwon “accidentally” took a polaroid of you. Quickly shoving the polaroid in his pocket.

He fr thought he was slick with it💀 cuz not even 10 minutes after the send off ended videos and pics of him admiring you was all over Twitter

Especially when ppl saw him shove a polaroid pic of you in his pocket

Engenes was crazy about it and spammed your insta comments with like “JUNGWON HAS A POLAROID OF YOU!” , “got THE Yang jungwon staring at her😞” , “I’m not even surprised she’s so pretty..” ETC.

got to see you at the last stop of their tour and didn’t even hesitate to talk to you and ask for your weverse 😨

like your that pretty he asked for your weverse😭

선우 Sunoo

Saw you when he was filming en-LoG

Basically he went to this little pet café with Niki and he wanted to play with the cats

So when he walked into the room. It wasn’t too crowded but the first thing he lay his eyes on was a Calico cat on your lap.

You were patting it so elegantly it made him stare at you for a little bit too long

Niki had to snap him out of it

he than sat down 2 table away from you

Cuz he wanted to keep admiring your gorgeous features

Niki was filming him playing around with the cats but he noticed sunoo wasn’t even focusing on the cats atp😭

His eyes was on you and the fact he had a little blush on his face after realizing his pc was behind your phone

You were so focused on the cute cat you didn’t even realize your own bias was staring at you💀

Like dumbass fr

But after awhile you felt like someone was staring at you and when you looked up you saw him

You were flabbergasted like the guy behind your phone is in front of you?

Like What In the what? You fr thought this only happens in fantasy words

But you both smiled at each other and before you know it the cat that was on your lap walked over to sunoo

You were kinda upset cuz you felt a special bond with the cat that had now BETRAYED YOU but watching sunoo play with the cat made you smile

“Sorry for stealing your cat.” JGSGHHVNRG YOUR BIAS JUST TALKED TO YOU?

You were freaking up and told him is alright before sipping on your drink

After a few minutes you decided to go visit the dogs. Of Course you were sad cuz you didn’t get a pic with sunoo but you want to be respectful.

Before you step out of the café you noticed sunoo walking towards you

“Will you be back anytime soon?”

“I actually own this place.”

Jackpot. His next few en-log would be at the same location now💀

The type to have a secret insta acc and following your café to keep up with it

にしむら りき Nishimura Riki

Yk how enhypen went to this school and they performed?

You weren’t even planning to go in that day cuz exam season and you were having a cold so like ew

But your twin sister was ranting how you should go cuz enhypen was going to perform

Like I mean I guess that what get you going

You thought she was joking until they actually appeared in front of you.

You wanted to scream but your sore ass throat wasn’t doing you any justice.

Than suddenly they were going to pick a random fan out of the whole crowd and the mc saw you had a pc of niki behind your phone and picked you

Bro you were so embarrassed ibsfr with you

Like you didn’t know what to do

The mc went like “Niki she’s a fan of you!!”

but you didn’t realize niki was the one who picked you

Brotha told the mc to pick you because your the most beautiful girl he has ever seen

He didn’t even know your bias was him he just wanted to interact with you

And when he knew your bias was him, his heart melt

The mc asked you if you were good at singing and everyone started saying yes

Your the golden voice of the school

“I can’t sing I’m sick today.” You said into the mic making everyone kinda chuckle and the mc was being such a silly person and told you is okay because is enhypen

“Yeah don’t worry just have fun.” NIKI? WHAT? Bro said that to you. Bro you folded.

So now here’s you singing “Given-Taken” while enhypen dancing to it.

They were all shocked when you hit heeseung’s high note WHILE BEING SICK?

Niki was in love bruh he wasn’t even tryna hide it when he didn’t want to pull away after you guys shook hands

Bro was still clinging onto your hands and staring at you with heart eyes

And everyone saw how he looked at you

Bro every engene wished they were you

And let me tell you how Niki said he wanted to go back there to perform just to hear you sing and see you again

It happened and Niki wanted you to be his so bad like omg man has never been this down bad

Stalked your whole school social media page just to find your the golden voice of the school and your insta😞

Whipped asf

a/n: 1989 TV VERSION IS OUT I WANT TO CRY SLUT! IS SO GOOD😞😞 Also I did not even realize how much ppl liked my recent enhypen ot7 series. It was just a random thought at 4am and I wrote it the next morning😭 thank you for the amount of support🫶 I really really appreciate it and I really hope you all enjoy it!!🩷

taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids @amymyli @in-somnias-world @okjaeminn @nonotwice1 @thinkmyg @blubbfsh

comment or reblog to be on my taglist :)

[afreakingdork]

Writing Request: Reader x Donnie's V-Card 💜

Hey, guess what?! I do these anonymously too!

This one goes out to a lovely anon! Thank you for your support!

From now until the poll closes if you can prove to me that you voted hassan/mikey in this poll then I will write any short 100-400 word request like below or draw you a doodle of your chosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

Under the cut for spice, but it's not explicit!

Donnie had meant to do this so sweetly. He had a plan. He was going to do exactly what you were supposed to. Despite his proclivity otherwise, he was going to lay out rose petals. He was going to set the mood with lighting that made up for that garish red and avoided the danger and smell of scented candles. He had four different playlists prepared and an algorithm ready to switch based on what tempo best suited the night. He had a multitude of condoms in their different texture and make-ups because there should be a choice and he definitely didn't get overwhelmed looking at the yokai selection. he had lubes of the same, but that had thankfully been an easier choice.

So why were you sinking down his length in the bathroom while he sat on the toilet of all things?

Family.

He wasn't thinking of them.

Friends.

They were the furthest things on his mind.

What wasn't was the start of this intimacy. The romantic plan had gone as discussed. You were both ready to take the next step. You inaugurated the evening with a date. There was light dinner that was walked off in cozy arm and arm. There were the lights of the city and a few breath taking jumps to get your heart rate elevated. Though he had taken you to see the city from above, there was a new connotation as New York sparkled in your eyes.

The moment you turned to share the sight with him, you saw his vision and that was it.

You kissed.

It grew a little hotter.

You whispered against him to take you home.

it was another shot of adrenaline as he carried you straight down the closest underground entrance that led to the lair. You whimpered in his arms as he shot you amorous looks throughout. You mewling thing were all the more ready and he equally so even if there was a certain clamminess to his hands.

You got to his room.

He locked up the door tight.

The roses.

The light.

The playlist.

The assortment of choice.

You were thankful in your saunter and plied him with kisses. It made all the agonizing and embarrassing preparation worth it. Those cheek pecks once again drew heat from his core. His heart swelled. It was his turn for the flood of endorphins and you steering the pair of you to bed was your confirmation that you were game. You wanted him. You chose him.

What sweet validation.

As you teetered on the bed, it began. First Leo, who portalled straight in because only the lab had that kind of anti-mystic protection. You squeaked knowing your misdeed, but to the outsider, you looked like you were doing nothing more than making out. Donnie raged at the interruption, but Leo brushed him off saying he needed back-up in dinner choice. Donnie oh, so kindly reminded him that he had already ate and the date was long logged in the family calendar. Leo not so hopelessly stared at him and second guessed the decision before he was run out. Donnie was left fuming at the door as he added a 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign.

"It's alright."

Your voice was sweet nectar.

It beckoned and soothed.

He floated back to you and never reached your lips when the pounding came.

Michelangelo in a tizzy because he'd dropped his ant farm. His latest hobby and the colony has somehow unionized. He spoke of how they were taking over the room with domain expansion ready for the kitchen provision and Donnie screamed over his shoulder for Mikey's to just ready for once in his life. There was a popped syllable and bashful apology before the air hung heavy. The littlest made his review of the three words as loud as possible before he cited comparatively non-nonchalant apologies and annouced to Raph that they were going to war as peace talks fell through.

The oldest brother groaned somewhere not too far away.

A little close for comfort as you shudder where you were beneath your boyfriend.

"I'm starting to realize the others are... right there..."

The first signs of uncertainty flared in his mind, but he could fix this. He enacted sound proofing. He set his entire room to do not disturb. This measure was typically saved for crashing on particularly hard nights, but it was worth it. This was his fault for not remembering how tenacious his family was. He was the one making the best nest for you and his folly had been in placement. Once again secure, you reviewed his preparations with some meter of affection.

There was still a chance.

A kiss.

Shy and sweet that simmered as the burner was on. The heat percolated in bubbling pops of lips leaving for air and little soft moans. They lead further down with your hands shaping his plastron and his at your sensitive sides. Down until your back hit the bed and you pulled him with. His knee slotted between your legs and your heads dipped to share a little more than oxygen.

"PURPLE!"

Splinter's voice was a bucket of ice water in some old time challenge and Donnie could only turn his head before all his carefully constructed provisions were broken through in a second. Mystic prison hadn't been able to hold his father; the man was too powerful for his own lazy right. Especially when he demanded his remote be fixed after the ant army had taken its batteries to power their remote controlled tanks.

Donnie was starting to think he may have to help that endeavor as he marched over to get his dad two triple A's.

You.

You with your kindness.

You with your patience for him.

You talked to his father in the meantime.

Yes, the date was wonderful.

Me and Donnie were planning to spend more time together tonight.

No, we won't be eating dinner with you.

I hope you get the clam chowder you're craving.

When Donnie returned, you looked a little to comfortable on his bed. No longer were you ready to be splayed, but you were sat ready on the edge. A sight of someone in the midst of changed plans, Donnie relegated the union of your love to another night. You would go now and have at it on the battlefield before your war torn bodies enjoyed whatever dinner option Leo presumably wanted instead.

That would be nice.

Be it laying beside you with a sheen of sweat from coupling or conflict, you would look just as radiant.

You finally stood, your face determined, and took his hand to go.

He was putty in your fingertips and only sort of noticed your detour to his table of choice.

Then you were in the hallway where the distant sounds of the fray leaked out.

You didn't go that way.

You turned, presumably ready to get suited up in his lab.

You led him right into the bathroom.

He had been stunned, but you continued to move him.

The door locked.

You worked his fly.

He took a cold seat with a bare thighs on porcelain.

You stripped only the necessary bottom layers.

You prepared yourself.

You prepared him.

Back at where his mind had left him, you had descended upon him with little force. Only the angle was a tricky one, but you were certainly managing. A slow up and down that spread your love out from its fluttering wing beats in his heart to between his legs. The steadily increasing moisture of the right whipping filled the air before you caught him. You shared his distraction with a hopeless smile. You accepted him in all parts, family included and you were his beating heart. It was his pleasure to watch your reassurance slip into little breathy moans and he left behind his place as bystander. In one twitch of his thighs and his hands to your hips, his angle improved and you draped over him to share in the sweetness.

The story for old would include the bed.

it would include the petals.

The gorgeous lit neon.

Playlist number three.

You had full say in the memory he'd print, but this, you framed with the shower curtain in the background, working yourself as hard as you could for him, whispering his name like a plea and your salvation, that part he would leave in for your future generations and he leaned in to make sure you'd agree to it the same way.

[thesupreme316]

Aew reacts to you falling asleep in most random places or falling asleep on them

You can choose either one

Orange Cassidy x Fem!Reader, MJF x Fem!Reader, Kenny Omega x Fem!Reader, Hook x Fem!Reader, Eddie Kingston x Fem!Reader, Ricky Starks x Fem!Reader, Christian Cage x Fem!Reader nick Wayne x fem

AEW STARS React to: You Falling Asleep in Random Places/On Them

Pairings: Orange Cassidy x Fem!Reader, MJF x Fem!Reader, Kenny Omega x Fem!Reader, Hook x Fem!Reader, Eddie Kingston x Fem!Reader, Ricky Starks x Fem!Reader, Christian Cage x Fem!Reader, Nick Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 937

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, i'm keeping my promise. Hopefully this is the start of making up for lost time, sorry for being away. I miss writing tbh. But antiways, thanks for being patient. NOW BACK TO MY SCHEMES. Plz remember that you are loved and appriecated.

Taglist: @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @eddie-kingstons-wifey @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines

Warnings: slightly proofread, failed comedy, GIFS AINT MINE AGAIN GIFS AINT MINE (rights are to the original creators)

Orange Cassidy (Random place):

He’s not fazed

Homeboy is impressed that you can fall asleep anywhere

In fact, he joins you

He has seen you in every random place in the house

Bathroom, linen closet, the kitchen, and how you fell asleep on the steps of the porch??

He’ll never know

It’s a regular occurrence to play “Where’s Y/N?”

One time Trent and Kris came over and saw the two of you sleeping on the porch steps

He just left a sign beside y’all that said “come back later”

After your neighbor called the police for a wellness check

MJF (Random Place/On them):

He thought you were joking when you said you can sleep anywhere

But was genuinely concerned about how you fell asleep in the laundry room

Makes fun of you on Twitter and uses your pictures to describe other people’s matches

If you fell asleep on him, he would melt

I think he would show off that his S/O is sleeping on him with a smirk

Would yell at someone for disturbing you and would blame the other person for you waking up

“No babe, it was Adam’s dumbass voice that woke you up, not me.”

Will bring you closer if you move in your sleep

But make no mistake, if his cat falls asleep on him, you’re sleeping on the floor

Hook (On them):

I can see this man being stiff as a log when you fall asleep on him

Strokes your hair to keep you calm

Doesn’t eat chips for fear that they will awake you

He woke you up once…and that was enough for him

Only answer his friends if they’re asking yes or no questions (will only nod)

Drapes a blanket over you if you don’t have his hoodie on

Eventually, he will fall asleep with you

But he quickly moves to sleep next to you cause you a wild sleeper

One time you were boxing him in your sleep…and won…

Eddie Kingston (Random Place/On them):

Mans would try out your random sleeping places before waking up and crawling back in the bed

“I don’t know how lil mama does it…that shit hurt.”

However, he made a ranking list and the best place is the dining room floor

Finds it funny yet very disciplining, might use it as a punishment for when he misses workout sessions

Will carry you to bed with him cause again….he aint doin that shit

When you fall asleep on him, he just becomes a big ole teddy bear

If he needs to argue or tell someone off, he’ll whisper yell

Will make sure that you are warm by wrapping his hoodie over you

Once you’re asleep, Eddie will never move you or himself

Ricky Starks (On them):

I feel like as long as you don’t drool you’re fine

Or leave makeup on his shirt

If you do, you won’t hear anything about it until you wake up

“I love you babe, but next time, there will be a paper towel barrier.”

Tbh, depending on how tired he is, Ricky will fall asleep on top of you

I can see him just talking you to sleep per your request

Even after you fall asleep, Ricky still be talking cause why not

Like those above, he will scold people if they disturb you

Will put your phone on dnd

Kenny Omega (Random place/weird positions):

At first, cause he couldn’t find you, he would be in distress

He would look in every single bedroom or cushion-based location

Would feel better once he finds you in the bathroom tub (cause he heard your snoring)

I think Kenny would catch on to your locations very quickly

But if you find a new one, he’ll add it to your location list

Knowing Kenny, he would make this into a bit on Being The Elite (BTE)

Like every time there is a fight or argument, you are seen sleeping in a weird position (like back twisting or somethin)

“Y/N sleeping so we have to fight in slo-mo”

Christian Cage (On them):

MANS WOULD FEEL SO PROUD AND POWERFUL

He would feel so happy that you feel comfortable enough for you to fall asleep on him

Anytime you get sleepy, it doesn’t matter where you are, he will offer his shoulder or chest as a pillow

Places kisses on your forehead while your sleep

He moves a lot tho, not on purpose

But you quickly got use to it and would snuggle closer to him

Would use you sleeping as an excuse not to fight

“You better be lucky that Y/N is sleeping or I- wait, I don’t need to fight anyways. Luchasuarus, get him.”

Nick Wayne (Random place):

I am 100 percent certain that this man is easily influenced

Therefore

He will follow suit with your weird sleeping habits

If he sees you sleeping, he sleeping too so move over

Like Cassidy, he would actually like the random sleeping places

He would fall asleep anywhere

I feel like when’s he stressed, he would just sleep in a random place…even if he’s at work

Christian and Luchasuarus would be like where is Nick

And Nick would be asleep on a ladder

[bueckerrss]

tag, you’re it - m. sturniolo

pairing: stalker ! Matt x OC

warnings: stalking, cursing, pictures being taken without consent.

summary: daisy just moved to a new home in a new town what happens when matt takes interest in her?

the triplets live in boston and aren’t famous during this.

ALL OF THIS IS FAKE! THIS IS PURE FICTION! matt will never do anything that is written in this.

-----------------------------------------------------

LOG IN:

USERNAME:matt******

PASSWORD: ********

open up file 5521?

yes no

FILE OPENED

NAME: Daisy Rose Larson

BIRTHDAY: July 10th, 2004

SIBLINGS: one sister. Alison Larson(12 years old)

PARENTS: Violet and James Larson

Daisy just moved a few houses down from me, she currently lives alone and moved here for college. She is nineteen years old, she loves to read and write she graduated from high school as a valedictorian. from what I could gather she has never had a boyfriend, she takes her studies very seriously.

matt looked away from his screen just in time to see her running around the block like she usually did every day in the afternoons, he ducked down a little to keep a closer look at her without letting her see him.

“MATT!” screamed Nick from the kitchen making matt quickly get up close his laptop and get out of his room “what?” he said looking at nick “i realized that we never properly introduced ourselves to the new girl that moved in a few houses down so we were wondering if you wanted to join us on saying hi” spoke chris while putting on his shoes “yea, i’ll go” replied matt putting his shoes on.

knock knock

the knocking grabs the girls attention as she pauses the show she’s currently watching and heads to the door to check who’s there, three figures are standing outside.

“hello?” she said softly as she opened the door to the three boys in front of her “hi, sorry to show up like this but we’re your neighbors we live a few houses down” nick spoke as he stretched out his hand for her to shake “hi, im daisy nice to meet you…” “nick!” he finished with a smile “these are my brothers matt and chris” he continued pointing at each one “nice to meet you guys come in!” she said opening her door more for the boys to walk in “your house is nice” spoke matt as he took in the layout of the house.

“thank you, i’m still decorating and what not but i’m glad you like it. would you guys like water? lemonade?” the girl asked making her way to the kitchen. “water is fine” matt and nick spoke at the same time “do you have pepsi by any chance?” asked chris getting a glance from matt and nick “what i really want a pepsi right now!” whisper chris to his brothers.

the girl made her way back to them with two waters and two pepsis giving them a smile “here you go water and pepsi”

-

friday march 16.

her house is beautiful she said she needed to decorate more but i genuinely think it looks fine the way she has it right now.

matt added more and more information about the girl as he progressively learned more about her. always keeping his eyes on her every time she left her house he would follow her “to make sure she was safe.”

he would also constantly take pictures of her, she went out for a walk? he was a few steps behind with his camera in hand snapping a photo, she was checking her mail? he was by his window sneaking pictures of her and looking around to make sure nick and chris didn’t catch him.

-

matt quickly made his way into his room locking the door behind him as he made his way into the foot of his bed pushing the floorboard down making it pop up, he pulled out a box with all the pictures he’s taken of her and the pictures of things she’s showed interest in. he added a few more photos he had taken earlier that week before placing it back to its original place.

as the girl opened her door about to leave for work she saw a box no mailing address and no sign from who it was from just her name on the top. she brought it inside deciding she’ll open it after her shift.

i have a spare minute she thought as she grabbed some scissors to open up the box. she gasped once she saw what was inside, a perfume she saw at the mall the week before. but who would buy this for me? i didn’t even mention it to anyone.. she thought. she let it go thinking maybe she let it slip awhile ago. she put it on and headed to work.

and that’s how it was for weeks any time she saw something she liked a week later it will show up on her doorstep. it weirded her out at first but she thought it was probably her parents sending her those things.

april 15.

she seems to really enjoy the gifts i’ve been giving her, she obviously doesn’t know it’s me who is giving them to her. she can’t know. no matter how much i want to tell her it can’t happen. i don’t need another incident like eliana. she seems different tho i don’t think i’ll have a problem with her.

daisy was taking one of her usual afternoon walks when suddenly matt’s car appeared next to her slowing down “hey, i was going out for ice cream wanna join?” he ask her as he kept looking to the road and back to her “um sure todays my cheat day anyway!” she laughed as he stopped for her to get in.

“so where are we going?” she asked as she paused her music “we’re going to tipping cow” “holy shit i’ve heard about that place but never had the opportunity to go!” she said with a smile.

the time they spent together the girl had a smile the whole time making the boy fall even more obsessed in love with her.

during that night once she got dropped off by matt she realized she needed to go grocery shopping. the clock read 10:30pm there’s nothing like going grocery shopping at night. she made her way to the grocery store since it was just a few blocks away from her neighborhood.

she was walking out of the grocery shop with a few bags worth of groceries when she heard footsteps behind her, ignoring them thinking it was her own she continued walking. but her gut feeling made her look behind her to see a man in all black following her. she ran as fast as she could throughout the whole parking lot until she got home.

-

weeks passed and she always had the feeling of being followed even if she wasn’t being followed. things stopped after weeks she finally felt free and not paranoid about constantly being watched.

or so she thought one certain day she was taking one of her usual walks around the neighborhood when she saw him again, the man in all black in front of her she quickly turned around and started running towards her house that was a couple blocks away. as she got in she locked her door and closed her curtains hoping that it would make her invisible.

ring ring

“h-hello?” she hesitantly answered

“you think you could run away from me? think again daisy you can never run away from me.” he spoke his voice deep and hoarse.

before going to sleep she made sure all her doors and windows were locked, she had her curtains closed. she took out the bat her dad had given her as a ‘safety weapon’ in case of emergencies like these.

that night everything was normal. the next morning she went out to check her mailbox when looking at them a certain envelope caught her attention “Daisy Larson” was in bolded letters when she opened it she found weeks worth of pictures of her. from her going on her daily walks to her being in class. she flipped the polaroid and in the bottom was written in red ink “say cheese”.

“say cheese?” she repeated in a whisper when suddenly she felt someone grab her from behind and put a cloth into her mouth. she struggled for a moment before knocking out.

DELETE FILE 5521?

DELETE SAVE

LOG OUT

YES NO

when daisy woke up she couldn’t move her arms and legs were tied up she tried screaming for help but the bandanna tied around her mouth prevented her from making any noise. she looked around the area analyzing it, it looked like an old basement or something similar to that she looked around for anything that could help her get out when her eyes landed on the wall in front of her in thick red bold letters was written:

TAG, YOU’RE IT. ;)

—————————————————————

hope y’all enjoy this um it was based off tag you’re it by melanie martinez (love her to death)

and hopefully this was good idek i feel like it’s rushed iddkkkk 😣😣😣

tags 🏷️: @breeloveschris @sturniolobendystrawsposts @hearts4chris @patscorner @lexisecretaccx @tubl-mc @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloblogs

[imsuperhungry]

4 𝙖𝙢

ᴇɴᴛʀʏ 001

(yandere until dawn)

WARNINGS: Mild Yandere Themes, Mild Cussing

WORD COUNT: 1950

I’m really thankful my dad pushed me to upgrade my car last summer. With all the snow and ice piling up on the roads, my old car would likely have struggled or broken down by now.

The heater worked much better too—I was actually warm in the car, which was a relief given that I was driving through a mild snowstorm.

I had the route to the cabin memorized. For years, it had been a tradition to meet there every February 10th, but it used to be just me, Josh, Beth, and Hannah. Only recently did everyone else start coming along.

Just a few days earlier, Josh had sent a video to the entire group, reminding us that our tradition was still alive, even after his sisters' disappearance.

We had all assumed the tradition would end since his sisters were no longer with us, but Josh insisted he wanted to "honor their memory." He was certain they’d want us to carry on and not be weighed down by grief.

After an hour or two of driving, I finally spotted the entrance to the territory. Two large logs supported a sign that read "Blackwood Pines," confirming I was exactly where I needed to be.

I opened the gate and started walking up the trail, beginning the long trek up the hill. Not long after, I came across another gate, but this one had a note attached. Upon inspecting it, I saw it explained that the gate was broken, and I’d have to climb over it to continue.

Letting out a sigh, I placed one hand on the brick wall next to the gate and braced my opposite foot to start the climb. It took some effort, but I eventually made it to the top of the narrow wall. Now all that was left was to jump down.

I would have jumped off sooner if the drop hadn’t been so steep; it took me a moment to muster the courage. Finally, I closed my eyes and leaped into the snow below, officially making it inside. After gathering my bags that had fallen during the jump, I steadied myself and continued along the trail to the cabin.

After a few more moments of walking, I waited at a ski lodge for a car to pick me up, which then took me to the upper cable car station. Eventually, I arrived at the cabin, where I found Josh, Ashley, Chris, and Sam gathered together at the front door, chatting and huddled against the chilly air.

“Hey, guys!” I called out, making sure to announce my presence so I wouldn’t startle any of them.

Chris, who had his back to me, turned around and grinned as soon as he spotted me. Ashley beamed upon my arrival, waving her hands in the air and yelling, "HI!" Sam, facing me, began walking over with a smile, but she couldn’t reach me because Josh darted toward me before anyone else even noticed I was there. He lifted me into the air and spun me around, as if we hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

“____, god! Hey, I’ve missed you!” he exclaimed, continuing to spin me around. I giggled a bit and asked him to set me down so I could properly greet the others who were watching us.

Eventually, with a reluctant grumble, Josh planted my feet back on the ground. I looked back up and skipped over to where everyone else was, but before I could say anything, I was enveloped in another tight hug—this one quite forceful.

This time, it was a group hug with Sam, Chris, and Ashley. One hand was patting my head, another was squeezing me tightly into the embrace, and a pair of arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me even deeper into the huddle. 

It had been a few seconds while they were all holding me before we heard a man clear his throat.

"While this is a nice little reunion we have going on, I think it would be even better if we moved it inside. It’s freezing out here," Josh said as he walked past us.

He somehow found my arm in the tangle of people and pulled me out of the pile toward the door. As he yanked me along, he grumbled under his breath, something like, "...fucking hell... weirdos..."

He bent down to unlock the door but quickly realized it wasn’t going to budge.

“Dammit... This freaking thing...” he muttered, fiddling with the lock.

“It’s iced?” Chris asked, standing right beside me.

“What else would it be?” Josh replied.  

“Maybe there’s another way in?” I suggested, desperate to find some warmth, as the biting cold was stinging my fingers pretty harshly.

“There are a million ways in, ___, but they’re all locked,” Josh replied, standing up straight to look at me. He then noticed my fingers, which I was rubbing together in a futile attempt to generate some warmth.

He wrapped his hands around both of mine and started rubbing them gently. His hands were already warm from the inside, and the friction created a comforting heat that spread through my cold fingers. I could feel the chill melting away as he continued to work the warmth into my hands, a simple gesture that brought me a sense of relief amidst the biting cold.

“There’s gotta be a window around the corner we can, like, get open or something,” Chris suggested, sounding a bit desperate to find a way inside as well. His eagerness to escape the cold was evident as he shifted from foot to foot.

Josh turned his attention to Chris, still rubbing my hands for warmth. “Wait a minute, are you saying we should break in?” he asked, a mix of faux disbelief and amusement in his voice. I couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the idea, the absurdity lightening the chilly moment.

“I don’t think it’s technically breaking in if you own the place, right?” I replied, making Josh turn to look at me with a grin. His expression shifted as if he was considering  my point.

“Hey,” he said, pointing a finger at my chest with a playful smile, “not if I don’t report you.” His tone was lighthearted, and the teasing glint in his eyes made me giggle even more. “Lead the way, Cochise!” Josh exclaimed, turning away from me, prepared to break in. 

Josh and Chris headed down the stairs and walked to the side of the cabin, leaving me, Sam, and Ashley  together.

Ashley sat on the steps, gazing out at the woods, while Sam leaned against the house, also staring into the distance. It looked like Sam had completely zoned out, lost in her thoughts.

I sat down next to Ashley, and she lifted her head as soon as she noticed me.

“Hey, Ash,” I began.

“Hey, _____,” she replied, sounding a bit bashful.

“It sure is cold out here, huh?” I asked, trying to spark a conversation.

“Yeah,” she replied, shivering slightly. “I think I’m going to pass out if we don’t get inside soon.”  

“Me too.” I began to zone out as well, taking in the beauty of the woods. The snow blanketed the trees and ground, and the bare branches swayed gently in the wind, creating a serene scene. It all looked so peaceful that I found myself wondering if I should move somewhere surrounded by nature.

I snapped out of my daydream when I felt Sam tugging me up and yanking me toward the door. Looking through the glass paneling at the top, I saw Chris melting the lock with a lighter. A sigh of relief escaped me at the sight; we’d be inside the cabin soon.

I turned to look for Ashley and saw her still sitting on the steps. Maybe she hadn’t noticed that I had moved at all.

"Ash!" I yell out

She whipped her head around and spotted me standing at the door. I waved her over with a cheerful "Come on!" and, without hesitation, she sprang to her feet and jogged over, grabbing hold of my arm.

After a moment, Chris finally opened the door, wincing as he accidentally burned himself on the knob. He quickly moved aside to let us in. Ashley stepped inside first, still gripping my arm, and I followed closely behind her. Turning back, I saw Sam walking in right after me, and it looked like Josh had made it back too, stepping in just behind her.

We stepped into the spacious living area, and Josh called out, “Home, sweet home.” It looked just as it always had: the couches remained in their usual spots, the paintings adorned the walls, and the chandelier hung gracefully from the ceiling. Everything felt familiar and comforting, a warm embrace of nostalgia that welcomed me back.

"Oh my gosh it's SO GOOD to be inside." Ashley say, I see a smile form on her face.

"Yeah," I say "even if it's still kinda freezing in here..." I say, still grateful for being out of the snow.

Upon hearing what I said, Josh jogs over to the fireplace, with an "I'll get a fire going."

"This place barely looks any different!" I say thinking out loud.

"Nobody's been up here, silly." Josh says, working on the fire.

"Even with all the police coming in and out?" Ashley asks, she's let go of my arm and plopped herself onto one of the three couches.

"Not a lot of action up here lately." Chris tells her, he's standing off to the side.

Eventually, two more people come up, it's Mike and... Jess?

“What's up, party people?!” Mike yelled, his eyes sweeping across the room.

“Heeey!” Jess called out from beside him, her eyes also scanning the room, as if they were both searching for something.

When Mike spotted me, he did exactly what Josh had done, lifting me into the air, though without the spinning.

When he set me back down, Jess appeared from behind and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug that nearly took my breath away.

“Hey, kiddo,” Mike said, giving my hair a playful ruffle. I never quite understood why he called me that, considering he was only a few months older than me.

Jess planted a lip-gloss-coated kiss on my cheek and giggled. “We both missed you so much, ____!”

“Yeah? Well, I could kind of tell,” I said awkwardly, trying to figure out why Mike had come in with Jess instead of his girlfriend, Emily.

“Maybe let’s lay off on the hugging; we can all warm up by the fire instead,” Josh suggested, his voice a bit tense.

“No can do, sir,” Mike replied to Josh. “I haven’t seen you in weeks!” He said, playfully jabbing me in the shoulder with a grin.

“Oh...” is all I could manage as I patted Jess’s arm, a silent sign that I needed her to let go. However, she ignored it and continued to hug me tightly.

After a few seconds of silence, punctuated only by Jess's contented sighs, I finally spoke up.

“Alright, Jess, I kinda need you to let go now. I want to sit down; my legs feel a bit tired from all the walking, you know?” I said.

She groaned in response but, reluctantly, let go. I immediately walked over to where Ashley was sitting and plopped down right next to her, seeking a distraction from how clingy both Mike and Jess had been for some reason.

Mike and Jess both settled onto another couch, and, confirming my suspicions, Mike wrapped an arm around Jess, indicating that the two were now together.

“Yikes,” I said aloud. Ashley heard me and let out an “I know, right?” as she curled up into a ball on my side.

I hoped this wouldn’t stir up too much drama, but as Emily and Matt began to walk through the door, I could see that it most likely wouldn’t be the case.

[blueberryarchive]

—the sketch and the smaller eye; kth

Lonely man Kim Taehyung leads a fairly stable routine in his life away from civilization affected by an infection without a cure. Stability ends the day you arrive, no one knows how you got there, but one thing is for sure: Taehyung won't let you go.

🌿pairing; Artist!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

🌿word count; 8.1k

🌿tw; widower!tae, post-apocalitic scenario, mentions of disease, weight loss and death, very brief mention of arms, age gap (21 & 30-ish), smut (manhandling, whiNY Taehyung, edging, spanking, oral (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talk), gruesome details of the virus.

🌿themes; strangers to lovers, slow burning, cottage-core.

🌿inspired by; ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ ⁱⁿ ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ ᵖˡˢ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The walk all the way home was always one of his favorite things to do when it was hunting day, the way the wind danced between the dying leaves and made music inside the hollow trees, the sun setting with the most beautiful tones of pink. It always reminded him of the times he spent just drawing all alone until you came into his land.

The day was August 8th, the heat was overbearing and like all of the other days around the same time, probably four or five (he wouldn't know because his only clock died a year ago), Taehyung sat down in the shadow of an old oak tree that has been his only friend, besides his dog, since he came to this lonely and God-forgotten place, were he was blessed and cursed with solitude and the cruel nature.

He had a small tin box with all of his drawing supplies, broken pencils, a piece of eraser gum the size of a nail, and a reddish tint drying up in a baby food crystal jar. Every day he told himself that he was making more yellow with the few sunflowers in his backyard, but today of all days he actually stood up to look for the petals.

The flowers were right outside the kitchen window, the sun was going down, and they were hunched over, withered, and full of little flying butterflies. His calloused hands took a pair of petals, the most vibrant and alive.

The sudden sound of cracking leaves and the barking of his dog disturbed him.

Taehyung perfectly remembers the moment he saw your frightened eyes, the color of the sunset over your weak body clinging to a log, an improvised cane. Torn clothes, dry mouth like a corpse, wet hair for some reason. Did you cross the river?

The first reaction of both was primal, like two animals that didn't plan to meet. Taehyung only turned on the fireplace at night, only for a couple of hours, so as not to attract attention. 

So what were you doing there? Were you lost? Impossible, he was too far from civilization. Were you infected? The wolves would've eaten you by now. Either way, he didn't like the idea of someone new.

The petals sweated their amber ink on Taehyung's hand, you tried to maintain your position, your gaze... almost afraid to blink. The man was not afraid to take action, hand already inside his overall pocket. Without much, his hand raised a pistol, sleek and silver. He was pointing straight at your face, your hair in a ponytail revealing your exposed forehead, like an invitation to explode it with a bullet.

"No, please." You muttered. So soft and yet, Taehyung got scared hearing someone else's voice. It wasn't a growl, nor the crash of stones from the river, nor the rain, nor the cawing of crows, nor his own grunts when chopping wood, nor the barking from his old dog. "I'll go." You begged again, letting go of the log. Taehyung tensed, even more, hearing you again.

So soft and sad. So delicate when the world around was burning.

"Are you coming with someone else?" he growled, getting closer and looking around. The forest seemed quiet, and his dog would have warned him.

"No, just me."

"If you lie it'll be worse for you."

"I know." You lowered your head to avoid the black eye of the gun.

"Are you sick?" the question was simple. Taehyung was trying to look for signs of infection. He hadn't felt this fear since the last time he lost his wife to that fucking disease.

You denied it, slowly.

"Show me," he said with a lowered tone, calm eyes as you undressed as quickly as possible. No marks. Elbows, hands, neck, eyes. All clean. With a sigh from both, the barking stopped.

"Walk to the tree over there, and if you try to do anything funny I'm going to put every fucking bullet in your head," he said giving a simple condition. He started moving with you in front.

Without saying anything else, you both walked slowly to the trunk. The afternoon was already turning blue, cicadas were playing a tense melody. Your bare back revealed your vertebrae, hard balls under your skin looking as if it was going to break. You hugged yourself, trying to keep the heat of your body, perhaps even your modesty.

With a whistle, Frank appeared: an old dog with red eyes and floppy ears. Seeing the naked stranger, he growled loudly. Your hands began to tremble, the weapon and the animal made a cry of pain come out of you, a plea with tears falling down your ashy cheeks. But you didn't see a drop of mercy in Taehyung's eyes, you knew that having this kind of loneliness was not achieved without having to kill several from time to time.

The eyes of the man in front of you were unbending and cold, lips pressed into a thin line, thick hands gripping Frank's chain and his gun. Stains of watercolors and charcoal on his fingers.

"C'mon, buddy," he whispered and the dog came closer little by little to sniff your body. "Bend down." You obeyed.

The animal took its time sticking its wet nose into your hair and skin until it snorted as it sat down. Taehyung lowered the gun.

That was the beginning of your recovery, long days lying between rough, thick sheets. Yellowed pillows that smelled of Taehyung's hair, hand-rolled cigarettes on the nightstand. Every morning he would get up before the sun came up and carry his hunting artifacts over his shoulder. Frank stayed with you while you tried to kill time in the cabin.

You learned how to garden and cook, roll the cigars, and dry the tobacco in the sun. The books were plenty, but reading was an activity you only did if Taehyung was the one reading to you, he did it every night. Even when the fever was so high you couldn't keep up with the story.

When you were at your worst, he held your head to put you in one of his sweaters, and even left the crackling fire all night to keep you warm in the cold.

Every night he started, with a rough and tired voice, around 8 o'clock, to read you a chapter from a book of poems or letters; or the list of lost people in the old newspaper.

"I do it to keep me sane," he said. "I went a long period without saying a word, and I started to forget how to say them, my tongue used to get jammed." He explained to you while drawing an empty cup of tea next to you.

You could only tell him a couple of questions each night, he used to get tired very easily. The first two weeks you couldn't even pronounce two words before he started to lose his patience.

"You don't have to know anything about me," his eyebrows locked in a frown. "When you get better, you can go and it will be like we never met."

But now it has been three months, you think. You recovered pretty well, and you can do the chores while he's out. You try your best every day so he notices that you won't be a bother if he lets you stay.

He doesn't ask questions about how you came to be on this side of the river, and you thank him for that. The memories blurred in your mind, like a sketch that's been erased again and again. 

Taehyung get's home at sunset, you are outside breaking some newspapers into pieces. The notebooks he used to draw in were already full, so you decided to make him a new one. 

You are wearing a dress he found in an abandoned house, it was a teen size but he loves it. He doesn't know your age yet, but he knows you're probably in your early twenties. He loves when the sun is scorching hot and your only choice is to let your thighs and shoulders out while you cook and clean. The hem flows with the wind letting him see your bare ass while you put the paper to dry.

You two haven't had sex, you never gave him signs, maybe because he looked a little bit older. He never felt like he had to hide an inexistent lust, until a few weeks ago. 

Two, to be exact. 

You were in the nearest river. A flimsy white t-shirt, wine-drunk, and talking so much. You were so irksome with your questions. The cold water sticking the fabric to your body like marble while you asked about Taehyung's boring routine. Your babble was such, you started asking about him jerking off and how sex works in solitude.

The way you laughed made him blush with anger. Sketches he was trying to make from the water lilies turned into ones from your eyes. 

That day he had to take a cold shower in the river after leaving you by the fire in the house. His face was boiling red, tired of your babbling and hard as a log.

The idea of you making him horny made him mad for some reason; it made him feel like a high school boy, but it was natural. He had years without seeing a woman. And you were pretty. So pretty for no fucking reason.

He knew that being in his early thirties probably made him less attractive to you, he was a grumpy man, almost a caveman how he reacted to your ways. That's why he didn't try, not even think about it... not always.

Now you have him going to abandoned houses on the other side of the river, looking for things for you: like a small bottle of perfume, a broken mirror, and old photos of people who are probably dead by now. A way to show he cared without using words. 

When he got to the rock path, the crackle made you turn around, you were smiling like always, and his heart felt warm.

"I told you to do that earlier. The paper won't dry today," He grunted, acting more tired than he was so you leave everything behind and get near him. You get a cigar from a basket near you and light it for him. You pass it to him after taking a puff.

"But you can draw on one piece of paper."

"That's not how it works."

"It'll have to work."

Taehyung pressed his lips together, he knew you enjoyed arguing with him, but more than those few words would not come out of him. You rolled you eyes going back to hang the wet paper.

"I'm making dinner tonight," he muttered like ten minutes later and then silence again. Another cigar, the old Frank by his side while he watched the sunset disappear.

The reading hours were around six to seven, right after dinner. It was the same routine when you first stayed, and it is the same now: After dinner, he gets comfortable in bed, takes a cigarette from the nightstand, and with the gas lamp he lights the tip. Book in hand. 

The words he didn't say all day would overflow as he read chapter by chapter. In an appropriate tone, pauses at the commas, giving life to each character. A treat for the ears.

After looking for a book on the first floor, he entered the room and stood up, his eyes went to the corner where there was a broken mirror, and in its reflection, you were, combing your hair in a ponytail, so poorly done that it was better to leave it loose. But the strands that were floating in the air, in front of your eyes, made Taehyung's fingers tingle, wanting to take every strand and pull it towards him.

There was a heaviness in the air that early autumn night. The silence was thick, and the yellowish lamplight cast heavier shadows on every piece of furniture. Abrupt and defined as in a baroque painting.

The curve in which his eyes concentrated more were the ones that defined your waist and your stomach, how it bulged slightly like a hill stamped with the flowers of your skimpy dress.

"Turn around," you muttered, like you didn't care if he did it or not, as you started to remove your dress; snapping Taehyung out of the sketches he was drawing in his head. He went to open the window to let some of the heat out of the room, letting the smoke creep through the curtains.

"I think I know what I'm going to read to you today," he cleared his throat, looking down at his bare feet pacing anxiously across the room. The shadow of your silhouette moving on the floor, the bone-white nightgown falling on your curves, exposing one of Taehyung's weaknesses: the connection of your neck and your shoulders, subtle but lethal.

He wanted to press his face between and close his eyes, inhaling the scent of your skin. Rich and peachy, like when the trees have so much fruit that they start to ripen on the same tree.

"You haven't finished showing me the stamp book yet." You dropped on the bed.

"I'm already bored of it."

"Odd." you noticed, watching him bend down and open a suitcase under the bed. "And those?" As you approached you saw a collection of books.

They were small, wrinkled, and minimalist in cover. Some were yellowed papers seized by the red wax on the spine.

Taehyung snorted at the question and looked up, daring you to keep acting innocent. He knew that you knew every corner of the house.

"I want you to say it," you smiled.

"Force me."

"I want you to say that Taehyung, the hard-faced man, has a collection of erotic books under his bed."

"You already said it. I don't have the need."

"Why do you have it under the bed?"

"What are you talking about?" Taehyung moved the books until he found a small book in Spanish. The pink cover with a painting of a mischievous Renaissance woman smiling.

"Kept under the bed, in a suitcase. Like a secret."

"I'm not ashamed of reading erotica if that's what you assume." he closed the suitcase and dropped his body next to you. His head near your legs, yours lying on the opposite side.

"And why do you have it like they're illegal." you held the cigarette he offered you.

"Habits of a human who lived in a society, I suppose."

You inhale the cigarette while he searched for the short between his long fingers, the book opened softly. His thumb pressed down the middle of the pages.

The glass of wine had you sparkling, you still hadn't gotten used to the alcohol. You had not drunk in so long that you did not remember its effects. There was something on the tip of your tongue, a confession that couldn't wait, an itch that needed to be scratched.

Before you could speak, Taehyung let out a soft "Ah" as he found the story for the night.

"A man who came about five years ago translated this story by Anaïs Nin for me. When he found out that I painted, he told me that he had a story for me."

"What's it called?" Without realizing it, your hand began to caress Taehyung's leg.

"La Maja," he pronounced. "Like Goya's painting"

Your head fell back on the stacked pillows, Taehyung's lips moved as he read a homemade translation of the story.

"He pulled back the sheets that covered her and slowly lifted the silk nightgown. He was able to lift it over her breasts without her giving the slightest sign of awakening. When it was uncovered all over the woman's body, he contemplated it for as long as he wanted. Her arms were detached from her body; her breasts stretched out before his eyes like an offering. He was aroused by his desire but he did not dare to touch her. Instead, he brought paper and pencils, sat by her bedside, and took notes. As he worked, he had the sensation of caressing each of the perfect lines of the woman's body."

Taehyung's eyes would lift to yours after reading the paragraph, turning back to the page with embarrassment flushing his cheeks. The human habit of blushing when you want things so badly, he thought.

The smoke from the dying cigar between your fingers snaked through your hair and the softness of your chin. Taehyung was never more jealous of something so ephemeral.

He couldn't find where he had stayed and the silence became so loud that you could only do what was right.

"I followed you today."

"What?" Taehyung didn't understand, you had spoken so low that he almost didn't notice it.

"To the woods, when you left this morning."

When he closed the book, you knew that what little sweetness Kim showed you turned sour. 

"I have told you that you must stay here, with Frank. Safe." You both got up at the same time, you followed Taehyung looking for his gaze which he averted.

"I'm not asking you to keep me safe, Kim" you replied.

There was a pause as he pricked at his bottom lip. Was that in his pupils the sign of an offense? Taehyung clucked at you, turning around.

"Kim," you tried to fix it by brushing against his shoulder. "It's not that I'm a helpless deer, I know how to protect myself." You laughed to lighten the mood. Bad idea.

A question, like a small forgotten flame, reappeared in Taehyung's brain. Out of courtesy when you got sick in the first few weeks, he didn't ask where you came from, why you were alone, or how you came to cross the wide river that divided a civilization almost thousands of kilometers to the left. When politeness turned to infatuation, the question was no longer so important. He felt that he could trust you and that he had a new purpose besides survival: to keep you safe.

Fallacies.

"How did you come to find me?"

"What?" the smile faded from your face.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

Your eyes moved erratically in his gesture, a frown. Just like when you came in drenched that August. No trust.

"Don't know."

He just snorted denying, he didn't believe you, and that irritated you.

"Sure, of course."

"Do you think I'm lying to you?"

"I don't believe it, I know." His body moved from side to side, arranging books and picking things up off the ground.

Your flushed face and clenched fists. Boiling alcohol in your veins.

"Well, you can go to hell with your lonely man farce."

"OK." Taehyung sighed daring you to continue insulting him.

"You do know that things aren't as horrible as at the start of the pandemic anymore, right?"

"Oh yeah?" His eyes widened in theatrical surprise.

"The infected are controlled and-," Seeing how he continued to feign interest, you pushed him aside and grabbed your dress from the floor, beginning to change. Tears accumulated without permission in your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled.

"Then you do know something about your past."

"Fuck you, Kim."

"No, because you lied to me and now you say things like how you know how to defend yourself in a forest full of wild wolves and that you traveled several kilometers by water and land to get here. And you want me not to ask questions about it." He moved closer to you so close that he could see the torment in your eyes.

"Exactly." You muttered putting on your garden boots.

"That request is absurd and you know it." his laugh was careless. He was drunk too.

"I know."

You both stared at each other, your hair was no longer tied up and its shadow hid both of your features under its shadow. Your lips parted at the sight of his.

"I don't remember how I got to this place," you whispered, a tear fell to your cheek and you cursed how sensitive alcohol made you. You saw how Taehyung's face softened in the presence of your pain. "I swear I would have told you if I knew."

Taehyung swallowed hard and looked out the window. He hated seeing others cry, he hated when his wife did it, and he hates seeing it now in your lost gaze. There was something in the way you were, in the quality of your emotions and your hope in everything that reminded him so much of her. His wife died at the same age you were.

Taehyung and her were both idiots and thought that living far away was all it took to escape the infection.

It was stupid of him to let her go hunting alone that day, he shouldn't have let a simple fever keep him in bed when she was out there.

He spent years waiting for her to come back. Waiting for some afternoon that he will hear her quick steps coming down the gravel road. Much later, he found a piece of her shirt floating on the bank of a river.

Taehyung closed his eyes and nodded. It was dangerous to let you stay, he still didn't fully trust you. But what was the use of being alone so much when he only waited for the next day and the day after until one day he could die naturally?

Your body tensed as his hand rose to sink into your hair and kiss your forehead. So delicate, without causing any noise.

"Sleep well," he whispered leaving the book on the table. His chest hurt with the immense amount of feelings you make him feel in one day.

It's overbearing and he loved it. But his poor soul needed time.

For the first time in all that time together, he decided to sleep on the first floor.

You didn't know what to say, you were already ready for him to just ask you to leave. So you were thankful he actually just…left.

When the door creaked shut, you let loneliness engulf you. You cried, glued to the pillow like a child. Of relief, of uncertainty, for that kiss.

The days are long when there is nothing to say. When you don't look at him, when you ignore him with your unsubtle ways: you leave your clothes poorly folded, you don't finish the dishes he makes for you, your cigarettes are badly rolled, and you punish him by wearing those shirts that reveal your cleavage.

If you knew what you did to him, would you take advantage of him? Would he hate it?

Taehyung can feel your eyes on his back as he tries to light the fireplace at night, the cold is cruel in the mountains, even crueler than the tension in the small living room. You find yourself sitting watching the flame grow and grow, Taehyung trying to appear as calm as possible as if he didn't have the gears of his brain fed up trying to figure out how to talk to you.

Apart from a 'what do you want for dinner?', a 'yes' or a 'no'.

He felt he talked more with poor Frank, who slept about eighteen hours a day.

He cleared his throat at the smoke and held up his hand for more newspaper. You gave it instantly. And suddenly, a miracle: for the first time in weeks, your voice.

"Tomorrow is my birthday," you said embarrassedly, arms crossed.

With a tight-lipped smile on Kim's mouth, he nodded and looked into your tired eyes.

Your voice was still just as sweet and calm, you wanted to try to sound weary. But he noticed every afternoon when he came home from hunting, the way you moved through the little orchard and sang while you bathed Frank. Your laughter was his antidote, it healed his tiredness and the ache of his soul.

"We should celebrate it." He proposed, but you instantly denied it.

"I want you to take me."

"What do you mean?" he blushed, looking deep into your eyes.

"Take me somewhere."

Taehyung dropped the newspaper on the fire. He sighed softly, (not in relief, but disappointed) and sat in the old chair in the corner, legs apart as he rolled a cigarette.

"Where do you want to go?"

"To the house on top." you pointed east.

"How do you know there's a house on top?"

"Because I saw it in your drawings." your pupils let you see its shine for the first time in weeks. The cold made you look so beautiful. The little contact he had with you, he missed it so much.

Your cheeks took on color with the coming of winter, your lips like two slices of ripe fruit, red and full of juice. "And I found your binoculars in the warehouse."

"Mm," he couldn't even get mad at you and your insatiable curiosity. He was glad to hear you. Besides, who was he to deny you going up to that abandoned mansion, even when fear consumed him that they would attack you?

"Sure, we'll go." you let the corner of your lips rise, Taehyung feigned seriousness. "But it can't be tomorrow. We need at least two days of walking to get there, and we have to prepare."

You licked your lips and got up, letting the cloth that wrapped you from head to toe fall to your shoulders. You raised your arms, and Taehyung frowned, not understanding the gesture.

"Come here, it's almost twelve, and I'm going to be twenty-one."

Although they both knew that no clock gave them a certain time, Kim didn't care and you less. Leaving the cigarette next to him, he stood up and awkwardly let his strong arms swallow you, your head on his chest.

The hug was a thank you from you, but with just a few more seconds, you realized that Taehyung didn't want to let go. You opened your eyes, he could feel your confusion.

"Just-" he stammered, tensing his arms a little more to bring you closer to the warmth of his body. Silence.

Rich and peachy.

"What?"

"No, nevermind."

"Kim." you wanted to look at his eyes but didn't let you.

"I haven't hugged anyone in years." he murmured, a sigh of relief.

The confession made your chest sink. The breathing of the man in your arms was soft and ragged. As if he was nervous.

"Can you play with my hair?" he hummed, timid and needy, warming your shoulder with his breath; chills covering your skin.

You let your fingers explore his fluffy hair, the little ripples covering your palm and fingertips. You heard another sigh from him and felt how his arms slid to hug the sides of your waist.

"Feels good?" you dared to ask, breathing the musk on his jacket. He just nodded longingly, closed eyes and brows knitted; the crackle of the fire in the fireplace melting his heart.

Your throat was dry, and your lips parted, God knows you wanted to enjoy that hug, how Taehyung bent his body slightly to hide his head in your neck. Perhaps it was the lack of contact or the fire in the fireplace, but your body bubbled over a slow fire with each exhale that collided with your neck.

"Tae-" you swallowed and grabbed his shoulders so he could see you.

The drunkenness in the eyes of the man in front of you was so short but so sweet. Discovering his attitude, he pricked the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, don't worry about the trip. We can start packing tomorrow."

"I think I remember some of what happened to me."

"Oh." His eyes widened, gesturing as he tried to ask you to explain. You loved the gestures that came out of Taehyung when he didn't know the protocol of conversations. It wasn't 'thank you', but a tightening of the lips into a brief smile; no 'Don't move' when he painted but a little grunt and a deny.

You both took a seat on the furniture and got as close as possible, there was no one around, but this was how both of you got used to talking to each other. Whispers, watching each other's lips and laughter, when it was intended, with the hand on the mouth.

"I remember a boat, I remember several women and two men," you murmured, your eyes tilted into the fire. "A group came on another boat and threw us on the shore, they beat the men so much that they died and left the women to suffer."

Kim bit the inside of his cheek, he knew the day you would remember your past would be difficult. The beginning of the lethal virus was so surreal for him.

"I don't remember their faces much, just their hair. I remember…one feverish night, the women covered me with a blue coat that they had taken from one of the men." your hand trembled, and Taehyung took it without hesitating. "When I woke up, they were all in stage two."

Stage two of the virus was when their bodies began to slow down, sleep being the main activity, even at times when they needed to urinate. Your body didn't feel like getting up.

Taehyung remembers how one of his college classmates slept fully for two days, he opened his eyes when called but closed them instantly.

"When I saw them I thought the same thing was going to happen to me, apparently they killed an infected animal and ate it among themselves without giving me a piece. I don't blame them. I also thought the fever was going to kill me that night," you shrugged. "When I woke up I found trash, fruit, and headless bugs on the floor. The virus searched for everything it could to feed before going into coma…, and then, um-"

Your gaze drifted away, as if you saw the women sprawled on their backs with their mouths open and sunken eyes on the cabin rug.

"Their bodies started to swell, their chests and stomachs and throats. The eggs-" you denied and Taehyung felt chills. "They began to grow and incubate, I cried for hours and hours in silence, sitting on a log." your voice quivered. "I crossed the river at low tide, and stayed on the rocks to wait."

"You were sent to explore the area. You were the same as I was years ago." Taehyung bit his lip, squeezing your hand.

"I don't understand."

"I thought they didn't send scouts to this area anymore. The infection is so old I thought they wouldn't need any more information."

"What do you mean when you say you were the same?" You frowned and stared at him.

"I was a soldier, my family needed money, and the doctors found a way to make us think they could save my dad from the virus." the memories made his tense neck move involuntarily. "They sent me to this side to find information about the virus, the source."

"You and how many others?"

Taehyung shook his head with a sad smile. Maybe he was even making up the story of his father getting sick, who knows at this point?

"I still don't remember. I just know that I kept walking and walking wit this girl by my side,until we found this hill, and even she disappeared."

They both fell silent. Taehyung had already told you about the disappearance of his wife, unlike other topics, this was the one that seemed like a fable. There were no traces, like smoke that vanished on a sunset.

You can see on his eyes that ache every time he mentions her; you wish you could lick his old wounds, not to cure them, but to soothe the pain.

The way he was holding your hand and the fire trembling on his tan skin made him look like an angel. An untamed one leaves instead of feathers, strong arms to carry the world around him.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Taehyung," you called, and he didn't have to move because your hand took him by surprise. Guiding him to your hungry lips.

He moaned lowly, making his free hand into a fist to control the euphoria that was running through his body. The wet sound of your mouths devouring each other, he didn't know how much he needed that, the warmth of your tongue licking his lips, the little pant coming out of your strawberry lips.

Oh, how much he hated the fact that he was getting hard just from a kiss, but how couldn't he, good God? You were so delicious.

He snatched his hand from yours and took both of your hands to squeeze above your head. Your back arched, and you mewled as you felt his hand squeeze your wrists.

Taehyung's eyes flickered to your face. Was he doubting what he was doing? Did you do something wrong?

"If you want to stop-"

"No," he growled desperately. With ease, his free hand grabbed the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, clashing teeth.

"Slow down, Kim." you gasped as he devoured your neck, covering in saliva the fabric of the coat that covered you, almost tearing it apart.

Your hand explored his corduroy pants until it reached the tight bulge against his thigh.

"No. I don't want to," he screeched as he watched what you were doing. "Please, I'm too sensitive right now." It was a plea for you to let him enjoy touching you for a few more minutes, his glassy eyes and red lips.

You were cruel, and God, how he hated you for that. You chuckled low and spread your legs to climb into his lap. The sudden movement knocked the air out of him, hands on either side of the couch.

In one sitting, you were pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.

"Oh no, please. Let me-," his hands went to his mouth, squeezing it hard, the words coming out muffled.

With so few moans he had you addicted to his susceptibility. To his droopy eyes and his angelic whimpers over every little thing you did.

"Please," he asked again but it was in vain when you started moving back and forth and licking his neck. "Fuck me, i can't. Baby-" he mumbled rolling his eyes, reaching heaven with so little. The 'baby' scaped again and again from his lips until it died out.

It was embarrassing, but so sublime.

You loved it. No. You became obsessed.

When he finished, you could feel the wetness on his thigh. You laughed again, taking his face in your fingers; he hung from your fingertips like a puppet. His chin resting on them.

"You look so cute when you're sweaty in the middle of a blizzard," you said. He closed his eyes, enjoying the compliment.

Without saying anything else, leaving a wet spot on top of his zipper and his mouth open; you got up and went up the rustic stairs.

You were going to be the death of him.

The morning arrives quietly and with the sun coming in gently through the windows, you are grateful that the snow has stopped as you get up to put on your socks. Frank was sleeping between woolen sheets in the closet. When he heard you calling him he opened his eyes and lazily moved his thick tail.

The bed was made on Taehyung's side. Last night you hardly slept thinking about what you two had done in the living room, you waited anxiously for him to go to the room to finish what you had started, but you fell asleep waiting for him.

Maybe he was upset because you rushed him or he was embarrassed. Either way, you could still feel the moisture your pussy had let out just thinking about his face coming. Like a broken record, just as his pelvis raised to make one last contact with your clit.

You sighed and let the cool water calm your arousal. The small mirror showed your reflection, you were pale. Since the sun doesn't rise so often, you feel like you're withering. The tinting of your cheeks was already disappearing.

Your eyes were guided to the small photo pasted on the mirror, it was an ID with your face. The ink on the image was fading, with your name and date of birth right next to it.

It was the only thing you had for sure, maybe your face wasn't even that one. You returned to your reflection and began to notice every little detail: the dark circles under your eyes and the dry lips from biting them so much, the slightly yellowish teeth, and the eye that was smaller than the other. 

That's new, you thought. Only if you looked hard enough could you see how your right eye involuntarily closed a little more than the other, the more you looked at it in the mirror, the more obvious it was.

The sound of a pot falling followed by a grunt made you snap out of your morning exam. You walked quickly to the stairs going down in a hurry.

You were surprised to see Taehyung in the kitchen, his hands covered in whipped cream and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread. A small tight smile apologizing for waking you up.

"Uh," he wiped his hands clean and leaned closer to you, placing an awkward kiss on your forehead. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you." You smiled softly, his hand found yours to guide you to the rustic table that he had made years ago, it was heavy and robust. It combined with everything that was seen in that kitchen, small details you had done here and there, but the smell of oak and the thick fabric of the curtains and the tablecloth were essentially Taehyung.

"I made you breakfast. You must eat it all or I'm really going to stop talking to you for a month."

As if he could.

"Because?"

"I spent all night trying to make whipped cream, found a book in the stack and it took me almost a dozen eggs to get it right."

"That's where you were last night." You smiled and he tensed, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. "Did you need a book to know how to follow our...?" You made an obscene gesture that made Taehyung turn to finish breakfast.

"You are so intense in the mornings."

"You've stopped smoking in the morning, have you noticed?"

Taehyung frowned. "It's true."

"I annoy you so much you don't need the nicotine to wake up."

"If that achievement makes you happy, go ahead." He crossed his legs as he sat down next to you. "Bon appétit."

You looked in front of you, on your plate was a piece of freshly baked bread toasted in the color of the sun. The whipped cream was smooth and slightly eggy, with peach slices decorated on top creating an attempt at a flower. The smell was intoxicating and your mouth watered from it.

Taehyung's chest swelled with joy as you took the first bite and inhaled. You looked at him tenderly. That human habit of food being the perfect language to show love without touching.

"It's good," you agreed taking another bite. "Did you try it?"

Taehyung denied raising his hand to ask you to continue tasting.

"I have something else for you," he said before you took another bite. You could see and hear in the silence of the kitchen how his foot bounced with eagerness to show you the other things.

Taehyung took a paper bag from his jacket hanging on the door and put it on your lap. His hands didn't let you open the material, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"Slow down, Kim. For God's sake." you laughed looking at him. He imitated you.

"Sorry, it's just that I've been saving this for a long time."

You couldn't stop seeing him, it was impossible how much you loved him in such a short time. You looked down at your lap as he lowered your chin with his hand.

Inside the paper were many trinkets, colorful and very varied. Buttons, an old lighter with a rose carved on it, a ring in the shape of a butterfly, a deep red dried ink, and underneath it all the pale lace of a lingerie set.

You smiled as you put everything else aside and looked at the pieces in detail.

"Isn't there a more subtle way of saying you want to fuck me?" you joked

Taehyung didn't laugh, again he was looking at you with nervous eyes.

"I want to give you a portrait."

You put the lingerie on the table and looked at him. You knew that his painting materials were becoming more and more scarce. You denied it instantly.

"Don't worry, I'll use some oils that I have saved, they are in perfect condition and I want to use them with you." he rose clutching your face in his hands, like something ethereal. How could he see you in the morning and make you feel so lovely?

"I want to paint your lips," he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, "And your eyes."

"Even when one is smaller?"

He chuckled slightly at your sweet question.

"Especially the smaller one."

His hand grabbed the last bite of toast and opened your mouth with his thumb, delicately inserting it. "I told you to eat it all." his face was serious.

His thumb began to smear all the cream that remained in the corners of your mouth, pressing your lips while your tongue tried to lick his fingers.

"That is my girl." he hummed cocking his head at you.

Your toes tensed when you heard him say that.

"Open up," he commanded and you obeyed, opening your mouth to remove the sticky cream from his finger. He swallowedwhen he saw you lick every drop.

Your beautiful face, your messy hair, and your mouth covered in peach juices and whipped cream. So sweet and erotic that it made his stomach clench with the urge to eat you.

"I would like you to paint me in the summer, though."

"Because?"

"Because that way I could return the color to my cheeks, to see myself more..." you didn't know what the word was.

Taehyung could have cared less.

"Fine." he sighed and tossed the plate to the side with a crash. Suddenly, you were in his arms, he laid you down gently on the wood of the table.

"Tae?" a squeal came from you when you felt the cold in your pussy, Taehyung ripped your panties and began to rub his digits on your clit with such delicacy.

"Shh," he responded, grabbing the chair to walk over to the table and sit down. With one hand he brought your body closer to his face and began to run his tongue through your folds.

This is what he wanted to do last night and you didn't let him.

Your legs began to shake and he looked up through narrowed eyes. Your surprised face was so funny, it almost made him want to let you cum as fast as you let him.

"Spread your legs, let me see you." there was something so obscene about the way his voice deepened. He embarrassed you. "Aren't you going to let me eat you?"

You didn't know what to say.

"What happened that pretty girl who wouldn't shut the fuck up, huh?" His wet lips kissed your entrance with each word. "Where are your smart answers and the fucking questions about how I jerk off?" With one hand he hit your clit and you whimpered. "There it is." he smiled.

"God," you moaned so loud trying to get your nightgown down, it hurt so good. Taehyung squeezed your wrists with one hand and started devouring you again, your juices flowing on his nose and his tongue and you knew how much he liked it by the way he growled and bit the inside of your thigh.

It hurt but you couldn't stop moaning, your hands turning into claws from the tension wanting to grab his tangled hair, to see his face covered with it in a transparent and shiny layer.

"Atta, girl," he inhaled, snapping back. "Look at you," he smiled at you as he licked the edges of his lips. "The color is returning to your cheeks."

"What?" You stuttered before you felt how his hand collided with your ass. You screamed biting your lip.

"Come here."

His hand carried you to help your weak legs. With his hands under your armpits, he led you to the nearest wall.

"Get naked, pet."

"It's cold."

"Still?" Taehyung asked confused and piled the fabric of your dress in his hand until he found your wet pussy again. Without saying much, he inserted two fingers, curling the tips.

"More," you whispered, you were short of breath and you felt like you were in another cosmic plane with the long fingers of the man behind you.

His other hand began stroking your tummy until it reached your neck, squeezing gently. Hearing your sweet request, he laughed.

"You're a mess and I haven't even fucked you. Are you sure?"

You nodded awkwardly, your head pressed against the wall. A third finger was unexpected and burned.

"You're so wet, it's not fair." Kim sighed. "I want to do everything for you but you won't let me with that little body of yours."

"Mm," was all you could answer, your tongue was heavy and the knot under your stomach had you seeing stars.

"Those short dresses and the laughter and the erotic books and your perfect tits." he moaned turning you around to remove your dress.

Seeing your face again, Taehyung made up his mind; he couldn't take it anymore. Whipped cream decorated your cheek and your open mouth.

"Are you still cold?" His eyes saw you straight into your soul. You denied hugging his neck, hitting your lips with his.

If you didn't kiss him you felt like you were going to implode. His furrowed brows and his broad shoulders, the way he'd talk dirty to you but he'd kiss your shoulder calming your nerves.

There it was again, that tickle in your throat of saying things at the wrong time.

Shut me up with kisses, you thought, shut me up by sealing your lips with mine.

"More." Now it was Taehyung's turn to ask, moaning as he felt how your naked body hung from his waist.

He quickly lowered his pants until he took it off completely. Then his coat.

"Down," he murmured kissing you one last time crashing your body into the wall.

With one hand you grabbed his cock and started to move your hand. A cry came from him and you both nearly fell to the ground in a crash. Taehyung's legs failing from the sudden touch.

You laughed at Taehyung's irate gesture.

"In four. Now," he barked, after kissing you softly. "I want to fuck you, I don't want games anymore, 'kay?"

You nodded drunkenly at the way he spoke to you.

You stopped smiling when he repositioned you like a doll on your knees and hands.

You arched your back as you felt the tip stretch your entrance, you closed your eyes in pure pleasure. The sting was unbelievable, perfect.

"Mmhm," Taehyung ran his finger down your back, "Let me listen to you, love."

How can he call you that without melting?

You pushed yourself into him until your ass touched his pelvis. You both moaned each other's name.

"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing both sides of your waist to guide your movements. The sounds that filled the kitchen were indecent, your cream accumulated at the base of his cock and your moans drove him crazy.

Yes, he was like a schoolboy when it came to you, he couldn't see your cleavage without wanting to touch himself or look at your lips without wanting to bite them so badly that they bled. You were in addition to his antidote, his new favorite morbidity.

"Atta girl, squeeze me more," he hissed at you slowing his pace down. His moans turned to whimpers as you began to feel the cum dripping down your thighs. You were about to cum and he could feel it. "Let me feel those walls, baby. Cum for me."

You lifted your upper body so you could move against him and with two brushes of his fingers on your puffy clit you began to scream his name letting your face fall into your hands.

You both panted hard, abruptly, Taehyung pulled his cock out, revealing how his cum came out of you. God, he prays that this is the one that knocks you up.

Getting up, he grabbed your delicate body and took you to the sofa, lit the fireplace, and left you alone for a few minutes. When he returned he brought with him a blank canvas the length of his forearm and a couple of charcoal pencils.

The afterglow had your cheeks with the most beautiful tint. Flushed and plump lips from biting it so much. You let your hair do what it wants, just how he likes it and you smiled at him when he sat down in front of you. You squinted your eyes when you smiled and his shoulders relaxed.

"Stay still, please," he whispered while he took a pencil in his hands.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

okay well that gave me a c!emduo drabble idea of like c!phil having recently moved to the arctic but his injuries from the blast are slowing down the moving/building and making it a lot harder to adjust to the cold. Just c!emduo at the early days of living at the cabins together

(context)

/dsmp /rp

When Technoblade seemed focused on splitting wood, Philza limped over to the campfire.

Building Philza's half of the cabin has proven to be difficult work. Not that the building itself was complicated or that the heavy lifting was strenuous, but the arctic itself wasn't the most hospitable building environment. Philza's measuring tape was blown away by the wind at least five times, Techno's axe was hidden under snowfall when he wasn't looking, and their damned fire kept going out.

It was early in the morning, and this new day has thankfully proven to be less windy than the others. Phil was supposed to begin laying down stones for the fireplace when he turned instead to the fire.

"You can't be tired already, old man," Techno smirked over his shoulder. He must've thought he was slick, leaving his work when Techno wasn't looking.

His smile faded when he heard Philza wince upon lowering himself to the ground.

"Whoa, whoa," Techno said, "You good?"

"I'm great," Phil replied with no lack of bitterness, his voice tight with pain. Techno dragged a log over by the fire and lifted his partner onto it, giving him a more comfortable seat than the snowy dirt. "Thanks mate, you didn't have to do that."

"What was that? You're not about 'ta pass out on me or anythin', are you?"

"Nah, I'm alright. It's just," Phil's face scrunched as a wave of pain hit him, "this hip of mine. I'll feel better if I sit by the fire a while." He rubbed a hand along his right hip, massaging away a cramp.

Techno hummed in the back of his throat. His own home stood nearby, surrounded by the various materials he's gathered in the hopes that his friend would join him here. He's been dreaming of this for what felt like decades-- any short period of time away from Phil felt like ages, and he could minimize that time. But...

"Suddenly this isn't feelin' like all that great of an idea, huh?"

"Hm?"

"Why am I makin' you live in the literal arctic when the cold hurts you so bad, man? Maybe we gotta look at other places?"

"I--" Phil looked up at him with surprise. "No, Techno. No. This is your home."

"I want it to be your home--"

"I love it here."

Taken aback by his sudden sincerity, Techno searched Phil's face for any sign of hesitancy. He saw, instead, a pair of warm blue eyes and a nose made rosy from the cold. He saw snowflakes falling magically around his friend, settling sometimes on his shoulders and hair.

"I love it here," Phil repeated. "This will get easier. I have all the time in the world to heal from this, I just--" he smiled, "I just need to sit by the fire for a while, is all."

Techno sighed. There was no arguing with Philza Minecraft when he had his heart set on something. "Okay," he allowed, "but if you're gonna change your mind, you better do it before I finish diggin' the basement out."

Phil chuckled. Techno worked harder than ever to ensure that he had a nicer fireplace to sit at.