#Crushing Force of Gravity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kentopedia · 7 months ago

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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold.

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity.

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants.

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards.

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding.

he can feel the man swallowing.

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well.

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand.

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you.

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity.

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you.

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them.

limply, they fall to the floor.

chuuya rushes over to you.

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it.

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing.

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?”

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?”

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either.

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.”

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.”

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones.

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.”

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.”

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later.

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.”

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off.

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him.

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage.

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course.

but you… you’re different.

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.”

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own.

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable.

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you.

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow.

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy.

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets.

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found.

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain.

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him.

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain.

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding.

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips.

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you.

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads.

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.”

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?”

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.”

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken.

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word.

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you.

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies.

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest.

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well.

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating.

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe.

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend.

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.”

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation.

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you.

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation.

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own.

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed.

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive.

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them.

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall.

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive.

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes.

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats.

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile.

dazai hums. “you the leader?”

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you.

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all.

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him.

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become.

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple.

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.”

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.”

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?”

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.”

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

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capuccinodoll · 17 days ago

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Honey love, dark eyes

Summary: Halloween night arrives at the Hoffman barbecue, and you find yourself masking feelings again. Word count: 8.5k A/N: Oh, i'm not over... - thank you for your comments, they're so fun lol you all make me laugh !! <3 Hope you enjoy this part.

October 31st. You let your feet drag across the cool bathroom tile, feeling every step. There was something comforting in that small heaviness, your body still lulled by the weight of lunch, and your mind restless, carrying the remnants of memories you'd been revisiting all afternoon. You turned on the shower, waiting a moment before stepping in, the heat closing around you like a second skin. As your fingers combed through your hair, scrubbing it softly, your thoughts slipped forward, out of your control, toward the evening ahead, as inevitable as the pull of gravity.

Last year felt impossibly far away. Sarah had wanted to be a vampire. You’d found her a set of plastic fangs, which she wore with a grin that pushed her cheeks high up on her face. Her cape was metallic, shiny as foil, falling past her shoulders, and she looked so delighted, bouncing on her feet in front of the mirror. You'd managed to take more photos than you ever needed, laughing at her exaggerated grimaces and capturing her tiny poses. Joel had been there, too, playing along, wide-eyed with pretend fear, leaning away from her “fangs” in a way that made her giggle. Every single picture was still on your hard drive—photos from a time you could hardly believe was only a year ago.

This Halloween was different. Sarah had decided on her costume weeks back—an astronaut. You’d spent the better part of September helping her piece it together, and she was beyond excited. She’d be with her friends tonight at a “scary” sleepover, which she’d told you about, bright-eyed and practically bouncing with anticipation. It was strange that she wasn’t here. It felt like there was a piece of Halloween missing, but she hadn’t felt it that way at all. To her, this was the most exciting plan in the world. You’d felt it too, in her voice, like a little pinch in your chest.

This would be the first Halloween in years you’d spend without her, alone at the Hoffmans' barbecue. And without Sarah, Joel wouldn't come either. His attendance at these neighborhood gatherings had always been more about you than the event itself, which you’d always appreciated without needing to say it out loud. You could picture him, standing with a beer, blending into the background, jokingly complaining about the crowds. He’d said he didn’t care for the noise, the small talk, and the endless kids weaving through adults like they were on a secret mission. But you’d noticed the way he’d watch Sarah, his face softened as he looked on, his attention lingering in that way that showed he didn’t mind being here, really, because it was with you and her. And the two of you—Joel and you—could talk about anything. He made everything feel like a continuation of one long conversation, like you’d just pick up right where you’d left off, glancing at each other and knowing what the other meant without even saying it.

You could also picture Clara, who’d come over to him every year, her voice lilting as she placed her hand lightly on his arm, her laugh soft and maybe a bit forced. She had that amused smile, that slight lean toward him whenever she spoke, and you couldn’t resist teasing him about it later. He’d always looked so puzzled whenever you brought it up, though you were sure he knew exactly what you were hinting at. She’d been living in the neighborhood for years, a few houses down, in that bright yellow house, and you knew she’d nursed a quiet crush on him for a while. And Joel, for his part, never seemed to notice.

The thought made you smile, picturing him in that moment, eyes narrowed, brows creased, looking at you as if to say, “Why would she be interested?” But as soon as you felt the smile, the weight of reality caught up. Joel was no longer in your life in the same way. He wasn’t “your” Joel anymore, the friend you’d poke fun at and swap knowing glances with. He wouldn’t be coming to the barbecue this year. With Sarah gone and things fractured between the two of you, he’d have no reason to come.

Maybe this would be the year he’d finally spend Halloween as he’d always said he wanted to—in the quiet of his house, watching a horror movie, the occasional interruption of trick-or-treaters breaking the silence as he handed out candy. The picture of him there, his small, self-contained world entirely separate from you, felt like an ache that had been growing for a long time, quiet and steady.

You missed him. And it made you furious to feel it, like he had somehow taken something from you by hurting you, even though you knew, rationally, that wasn’t true. Still, the feeling stuck, simmering somewhere in the background. You hated that you missed him at all.

Your steps matched Travis’s as you left the house, his voice filling the space around you, his hands carving shapes in the air with his animated gestures. The crisp October air wrapped around you, a lingering autumn sun casting a warm, golden wash over everything—the leaves curling on the trees, the lawn stretching out beside you. You hugged your flannel a little closer, fingers brushing over the thick fabric. It was just the right layer—a deep green fleece, oversized, over a worn black T-shirt. You were warm, content, happy even, if only you could hold on to that feeling.

Beside you, Travis was recounting a work spat, his colleague’s tone and insults reimagined in Travis’s flurry of hands. You caught the edges of his words, murmuring a few responses that seemed to satisfy him. By the time you reached the Hoffmans’ house, you were both following the gentle glow of orange lights strung across the yard, stepping into a scene that felt dreamlike, suspended in that late afternoon haze. There was a large oak tree strung with little yellow lights, glowing faintly in the dying sunlight, the whole place set up in the same meticulous, festive way the Hoffmans always did.

Every corner had been turned into Halloween, with cobwebs woven over bushes and pumpkins large and small lining tables, some carved and flickering with candles, others untouched, casting shadows across the tablecloths. Guests mingled at scattered tables, warm drinks in hand, their voices and laughter filling the air with a kind of warmth you hadn’t known you’d needed. The grill added a woodsy scent, smoky and rich, mixed with spices that made your stomach hum with anticipation. A few feet away, kids dressed as witches and monsters zoomed around, their laughter spilling into the light breeze, punctuating the chatter of the adults.

It was the kind of evening that felt ripe for sinking into, letting go of all the worries that had weighed on you lately. You wanted to let yourself simply be here.

Travis glanced at you then, his gaze softening in that way he had, his question as warm as his smile. “I’m heading for food—want anything?” he asked, eyes moving from you to the spread at the far end of the yard.

You pushed yourself up from the table, your hands planted firmly as if grounding yourself.

“I’ll come with you—this is the best part, right?”

The food was better than ever. Tender, perfectly cooked meat, salads piled high, and a sense of community humming through every bite. You found your spot at the table again, balancing your glass of beer on the edge, the faint strains of music drifting from the outdoor speakers blending into the buzz of voices around you. And then, like some personal invitation to memory, you heard the familiar intro; Eyes Without a Face, by Billy Idol, that unmistakable beat curling around you.

Your shoulders started to sway, almost without permission, and then there he was again—Joel. Just like that, back in your mind, as clear as if he were standing beside you. You could picture it—two years ago, slightly tipsy, singing that song in his living room, his hand on your waist, both of you spinning each other slowly to the rhythm, his head tilted back in a deep laugh, voice just slightly off-beat, and you trying and failing to contain your own laughter.

“You okay?” Travis’s voice pulled you back, concern lacing his tone as he looked at you. Your gaze had been locked on some invisible point on the table, your head leaning slightly, reliving a memory that suddenly felt all too close.

“Oh—yeah. It’s nothing. I just love this song.”

He smiled, nodding knowingly. “It’s a classic,” he said, his fingers tapping along with the beat.

You looked up and there, just beyond Travis, the Hoffmans’ glass door slid open. You stopped breathing for a second. Joel stepped out, looking like he’d walked out of some old photograph, hair a bit damp, dark jeans and a gray and black flannel layered over a plain white T-shirt, a pair of black converse grounding him to this moment. He moved toward one of the tables, brushing his chin absentmindedly, his lips moving in time with the music, glancing around as if he were taking it all in for the first time.

And then his gaze found yours.

You held your breath, as if that could somehow make you invisible, as if that would erase this moment. But his eyes stayed on you, unreadable, a half smile on his face or maybe just a neutral expression—some mix of familiar and distant, like he was watching you from a place you could never fully reach. You swallowed, shifting your focus back to Travis, who had his eyes on his phone now, idly typing something while he continued to eat.

“I should’ve dressed up tonight,” you said, your voice intentionally light, trying to shake the weight that had fallen over you. “I don’t know what I’d be, but still. It would be fun to pretend for a night.”

Travis chuckled, leaning in closer, but you could still see Joel over his shoulder, that steady gaze, watching from his own table.

“I know a party tomorrow night—my friend’s hosting, if you want to go with me. We can pick out costumes tomorrow morning, make a day of it.”

You smiled, surprised at how genuinely it formed, pushing your hands together in excitement.

“Really? I’d love that! I haven’t dressed up in years.”

Travis’s face lit up. “Then it’s a date. We’ll figure out the costumes in the morning. Anything you want.”

For a moment, you let yourself lean into that feeling, that lightness in his offer, something to look forward to. Your gaze wandered to Helena and her little daughter by the pool, her laughter carried to you on the breeze, her face illuminated in the soft glow of fairy lights. You patted Travis’s hand and stood up, gesturing for him to follow. He caught on, falling into step behind you as you made your way to greet them.

But as you moved, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, lingering there in the space between.

It had been more than a month since you'd last seen Helena. She had traveled back to her home country after her father’s death, sorting through family matters, settling things that couldn’t be left undone. Now, with her daughter Iris perched on her lap, she looked better, lighter even. There was a calmness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, her fingers tracing gentle circles over Iris’s shoulder as the little girl, dressed as a bumblebee, poked unenthusiastically at a slice of pumpkin bread. You sat next to her.

“Hey,” Helena said, catching sight of you with a warm smile that seemed to melt away everything around you—even the awareness of Joel, somewhere behind you, his gaze like a whisper you couldn’t quite shake. “It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

“I’m… fine,” you answered, hesitating as your eyes drifted to Iris, who looked up at you with a shy, dimpled smile. “When did you get back?”

“A few days ago. I was actually planning to stop by tomorrow,” Helena replied, brightening as she added, “I thought we could have dinner, get the girls together, and our guys.” She gave a little chuckle, nudging Iris lightly. “Paul would probably love having Joel around too. The poor guy spent the entire trip surrounded by women—my sisters are wonderful, but you know how it is. It was just him and my dad with all of us, and now…”

Helena had three sisters, each one of them stunning, with the same striking green eyes and dark hair that she had. When you’d met them last Christmas, it was as though you’d stepped into some enchanted fairytale—they moved with an effortless grace, magnetic and ethereal.

Helena’s eyes twinkled as she turned toward Travis. “You should come too, Travis,” she said, a mischievous glint in her expression. She shot you a knowing wink, which Travis, ever polite, caught with a smile.

“Sounds great,” he replied with an easy grin, though you felt a twinge of discomfort at the mention of “our guys,” the thought of Joel slipping into your mind unbidden. Trying to brush it aside, you nodded and shifted the conversation.

“Is Paul not coming tonight?” you asked, hoping to keep things light.

“No,” she sighed. “He’s been swamped at work, trying to catch up after our trip. But I really can’t complain. He was so great, staying home with me all this time, so I told him tonight he should just take his time.”

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.

“Helena, it’s so good to see you!” Brenda, always the life of these gatherings, came over with her usual warmth, her gaze lighting up as she reached out for Iris.

Brenda’s costume was a striking homage—her spiky orange hair and dark lipstick made her look both bold and playful. She wore a white shirt stamped with slogans in block print, a chunky pearl necklace framing her smile. As she was sitting in front of Helena, she caught your eye and grinned.

“I'm Vivienne Westwood!” she announced proudly, preening a little under your gaze.

“You look amazing,” you said, meaning it. “And the food is, as always, incredible. You outdo yourself every year.”

Brenda gave your hand a squeeze in response, her gaze softening, but just as she was about to respond, her attention shifted beyond you, a pleased expression lighting up her face. “Oh! Joel, come over here!”

Your body tensed at the sound of his name, feeling as though the space behind you had just closed in. He was there, his footsteps echoing toward you until he was nearly at your back. You wanted to stand up, to avoid the moment entirely, but it would have only made things worse—too obvious, too awkward. Brenda couldn’t have known. Joel had always been a fixture in your life; it wasn’t strange to see him here, even if, for some reason, it felt like he was moving in a world that was no longer entirely yours.

You glanced up, catching sight of Joel as he leaned down to kiss Brenda’s cheek while she patted the seat next to her. His smile was casual, easy, as he greeted the others with a nod, his eyes lingering just a second longer on you and Travis than felt necessary. He looked completely at ease, unbothered by the tension knotting up inside you, sitting comfortably in front of you.

Brenda’s hand rested on his arm as she looked up at him with a fond smile. “Where’s your Sarah? I haven’t seen her all night.”

“She’s at a friend’s sleepover,” Joel replied, a hint of concern threading through his words, though he tried to disguise it with a smile. “So I’m here on her behalf, I suppose.”

“She’s growing up so fast,” Brenda said, her tone nostalgic as she gave him a soft smack on the arm.

Joel shook his head slowly, a bittersweet smile flitting across his face before his gaze moved to Iris. “Tell me about it. I remember when she was this little…”

Helena’s hand drifted over her daughter’s hair as she smiled back at him.

“It all flies by, doesn’t it?” she said, her voice soft. “We really have to hold on to these moments.” She turned toward Travis, and he nodded, a gentle look in his eyes as he watched Iris.

“How old is Sarah now, Joel?” Travis asked, and you noticed a subtle shift in Joel’s expression, a kind of hesitance before he replied.

“Twelve,” he said, his voice quieter, his gaze falling briefly before meeting Travis’s, smile dissapearing.

“Twelve?” Brenda’s tone was incredulous. “I still remember the day you moved in, Joel! She was so little then, a perfect little angel! And you—how old were you then?”

“Twenty-seven,” Joel answered with a wry smile, a hint of nostalgia in his tone.

“You were just a kid yourself,” Brenda replied, shaking her head. “Always working, always rushing somewhere. And always putting your baby first.”

Joel’s smile softened, his eyes meeting Brenda’s with a warm gratitude.

“I couldn’t have managed without you,” he said simply, as though she understood all the years of support and help she had given him.

Helena glanced over with a thoughtful look. “Didn’t you just have a birthday, Joel?” she asked, her voice casual, but the question landing with a weight that made your heart leap.

“That's right,” he murmured, looking down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers against the edge of the table. “September twenty-sixth.”

“Hey, happy belated birthday then,” Helena said brightly, her smile lighting up the words. “Did you have a nice time?”

Joel looked at you briefly, and something flickered there, like he was turning over a memory he hadn’t expected to find. He shifted his gaze back to his hands. “It was good. Full of… surprises, I guess. Pretty sure Sarah told you all about it, huh?” He shot a glance at Brenda, as if grateful for a way out of the conversation.

“Oh, I heard all about it from Sarah,” Brenda said, grinning, her gaze settling on you with a warmth that made you blush. “You’re a lucky guy, Joel, to have two sweet girls looking out for you like that.” She patted his arm. “I’ll make up a little bag of candy to take home to her, all right? I know she loves the caramel ones.”

You smiled, trying to ignore the prickle of Joel’s gaze on you. And then a feeling dragged you back to years before, to when his Sarah was just three. You could pictured her as a toddler with wide eyes and a toothy, mischievous grin. Joel had shown you those old photos once, and you remembered how adorable she looked, her tiny hand clutching a toy tightly. Sarah had his smile—that same easy warmth, with eyes that crinkled and all but disappeared whenever she laughed. That gesture was even present in Tommy, now that you thought about it. Maybe it was purely a Millers thing, but it—

You realized Brenda was talking to you and straightened up, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Sorry, what?”, you asked.

Brenda chuckled, looking at you with a soft smile. “I was just asking, how old was Sarah when you first met her?”

“She was eight,” Joel answered before you could, glancing at you with a faint smirk.

"Yeah, eight," you echoed the number, ignoring the way his gaze moved over you, lingering with a warmth that felt almost invasive.

At that moment, Helena called Brenda’s attention back to a conversation about Christmas and Iris’s upcoming birthday, but Joel’s eyes stayed on you, searching your face like he was looking for something only you might understand. You tried to keep your own expression neutral, feeling Travis’s hand come to rest on your knee under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his touch helped you to breathe a little easier, though Joel didn’t miss the gesture. His gaze hardened as he glanced down, the line of his jaw tightening slightly.

Clearing his throat, he leaned forward, finally addressing Travis. “So, how’s business going, Travis? I heard something about real estate taking a hit. Times are rough, aren’t they?”

Travis, completely unfazed, nodded, his hand still on your knee. “It is. At least for now things are still good, but of course, I can speak for myself.”

Joel gave a slow, mocking nod, feigning an interest he didn’t feel. “Well, you seem quite competent. I have no doubt you sure are handy with business. Is your dad still running the company?”

Travis smiled, oblivious to the subtext that hung in Joel’s question. “Yep, still going strong, but I think he’s planning to retire soon. My old man is tired, I think.”

Joel raised his eyebrows in a mock gesture of understanding. “Makes sense. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You seem like the kind who’s got a knack for that… you know, the charm. Every successful businessman needs a little bamboozling spark, don’t they? And I... I think you fit the role.”

“Joel,” you warned quietly, hoping to temper the tension you could feel growing at the table. But Joel merely looked back at you with a faint, defiant smile, ignoring the caution in your eyes.

Travis, patient as ever, simply shrugged. “I appreciate your good faith, Joel. It means a lot coming from you, I know what a hard worker you are.”

The kindness in his tone, the sincerity in his eyes—it made your heart soften. You turned to look at him with a warm smile on your face, how was he immune to the sharp words of the man in front of him? And Joel had a special talent for formulating painful and provocative sentences, but apparently Travis was not the easy guy to gnaw on. And you were grateful for that.

He turned to you, his eyes warm as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to get us some drinks. Need anything, beautiful?”

You shook your head, managing a small smile. “I’m good, thanks.”

As he rose and walked away, he gave your shoulder one last affectionate squeeze. You noticed Joel watching Travis’s every move, his expression darkening, and once Travis was out of earshot, Joel’s gaze returned to you. He didn’t bother to hide his irritation, his eyes narrowing in an almost accusatory way as they moved over your face, searching.

“Joel, really,” you whispered, leaning in so only he could hear. “You don’t have to treat him like that. He’s never done a thing to you.”

A smirk flickered across his lips, and he leaned closer, eyes dancing with a kind of challenge. “Treat him like what?”

You shook your head, pulling back to put some distance between you, but Joel’s gaze followed, steady, like he was waiting for you to react, hoping for it even.

Murmuring an apology to Brenda and Helena, you stood, slipping away to the table by the big oak tree where your empty plate and half-full glass still sat. You picked it up, taking a long drink, grateful for the quiet moment, even as you felt his eyes on you from across the garden.

Travis appeared in front of you, a warm smile on his face as he handed over a small plate with a chocolate cupcake, topped with a dollop of cream shaped into a ghost and dusted with coconut. The sweet smell hit you right away, and you leaned in, inhaling the scent, your mouth already watering. You took a bite, savoring the rich chocolate—it tasted like all of Brenda Hoffman’s best baking, delicious and indulgent.

“Maybe after the barbecue, we could head back to my place for a while,” Travis said, his expression slightly tentative, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of your response.

“That sounds perfect,” you replied with a small smile, trying not to feel self-conscious. As you savored another bite, you glanced toward the pool where Joel was still deep in conversation with Brenda, Helena, and Iris. A moment later, you noticed Clara, all golden hair and easy confidence, sliding into the seat you’d left vacant. She placed two plates on the table, one for herself and one for Joel, who glanced up as she settled in, looking pleased.

Travis followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a knowing look.

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” he said, sounding almost amused, though his eyes held a faint hint of confusion. “I think I might understand why, i mean, i think i know why but…”

You blinked, feeling that all-too-familiar twinge of guilt.

“No, he doesn’t hate you,” you said, brushing off the thought. “He’s just acting… well, like a jerk.”

Travis nodded slowly, digesting your words, but then his eyes softened with curiosity.

“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but… what happened with you two? Weren’t you best friends? I remember you two were always together, but lately…”

You sighed, feeling the tension build as you searched for a way to answer. Travis didn’t need the full story, not yet.

“Like I just told you, he's acting like a jerk,” you said, and it didn't take long to sense that Travis wasn't satisfied with your answer.“Honestly, we just… had an argument a few weeks ago,” you said, carefully choosing each word. “It’s been weird between us since then, I guess.”

Travis seemed to sense that you didn’t want to go deeper, and thankfully he let the topic slide, moving the conversation in a new direction as he began to tell you about the last book he’d read.

“I just finished The Red and the Black, actually,” he said, his gaze turning thoughtful as he picked up his fork, poking at his plate absently. “I didn’t like Madame de Rênal. I thought her choices were a bit… unconvincing.”

You laughed, covering your mouth as you swallowed the last bite of cupcake. “Well, we're talking about revolutionary and passionate times, you know. I mean, Stendhal had his characters reflecting all that intensity. Have you read Goethe’s Werther?”

Travis smirked, shaking his head. “Ah, yes, the Werther book. The one with the famous suicide, right?”

You grinned, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the one. The famous suicide and the iconic outfit. I know it gets heavy, but I’ve always liked it.”

He chuckled, nodding as if to humor you.

“My sister made me read it as a teenager, actually. I thought Werther was too… sentimental for my taste.”

You tried not to smile too widely, picturing a young, disinterested Travis, brow furrowed over Goethe’s verses.

“I get it. I was probably more sympathetic to Werther than I should’ve been. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic myself, so maybe it made sense to me. Though I’ll admit, he does get insufferable.”

“Definitely insufferable,” Travis said, still amused. “I’ve always been more into horror anyway.”

The comment made you smile—Travis had a whole shelf at home stacked with DVDs and old VHS tapes of classics like Nightmare on Elm Street, Cujo, and The Birds. You’d teased him about it, of course, but there was something oddly endearing about it too.

As the conversation flowed, a faint twinge made itself known in your stomach, and you shifted in your seat, trying to ignore it. You’d had a glass of beer and two tall glasses of water before coming over, so the feeling wasn’t exactly a surprise.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmured, excusing yourself as you rose from your spot.

In doing so, you glanced over Travis’s shoulder, only to catch sight of Joel and Clara by the pool. Brenda had moved elsewhere, leaving Clara at Joel’s side, closer than casual. She was leaning into him, her hand resting against his shoulder, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, her laugh light and flirtatious. Joel didn’t seem uncomfortable with her proximity. In fact, he was smiling back at her, his gaze locked on hers in a way that made your heart sink just a little.

You looked away, feeling a strange pang that you couldn’t quite justify. Had he been ignoring Clara before simply because you were there, next to him? But now, alone with her… he didn’t seem to be ignoring her at all.

As you headed toward the house, you forced yourself to shake off the thought. You slipped through the door and let out a sigh of relief, the cool interior air calming your nerves. Walking quietly down the hallway, you reached the bathroom and knocked gently to check if it was free. It was unoccupied, so you slipped inside and closed the door behind you. You paused by the mirror, glancing at your own reflection, almost surprised by the tension in your eyes.

What was Joel doing, looking at Clara like that? Wasn’t he still with Sienna? And what would she think if she saw him now, flirting? It was hard not to wonder if Sienna was like Clara, someone completely different from you.

Clara was a flash of brilliance, a woman who looked like she’d walked off a magazine cover, golden curls that fell like soft waves of sunlight, her skin bronzed from Texas summers, her green eyes glinting with a brightness that made her seem almost elemental, like an extension of the sun. Her voice was soft, delicate; every word felt chosen, measured. She was flirtatious, always laughing, always seemingly content with the way things were. You could almost imagine that Clara might be Joel’s type—a vibrant, sunlit presence. It would make sense; he was her opposite in every way. When you thought of Joel, you thought of nighttime, the murmur of crickets outside a darkened window, strong coffee and smoky whiskey, a deep, hidden undercurrent.

And you? You weren’t sure what you were. You weren’t quite the night, nor the day. Maybe you were something in between, or maybe you were just… undetermined. You wanted to think you had some affinity with the moon, but even that seemed too defined.

You sighed, breaking your gaze from your reflection as you felt an urgency to finish up. A moment later, you were washing your hands, the warm water and lavender soap grounding you a bit as your mind drifted again, wandering along with the suds down the drain. You dried your hands with a soft cotton towel, inhaling the fresh, clean scent.

But when you opened the door, you froze in place. Joel was standing there, leaning casually against the wall, his hands tucked behind him. He had been staring at the floor, but as soon as he heard you, his gaze flicked up. There was an intensity in his expression that made you pause, waiting for him to say something, to step aside, to let you pass. But he didn’t move.

When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the small space like a slow crack.

“Are you with him now?”

“With who, Travis?” you said, sounding more dismissive than you’d intended.

He raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Who else? Or is there another I don’t know about?”

You took a few steps closer, folding your arms, letting your expression go cold and tight, the same way it always seemed to be now, whenever you looked at him.

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Joel.” You lifted your chin. “I mean, last time I checked, you haven’t been all that open about your life either. So why would I tell you anything about mine now?”

Joel’s smirk twisted into something sharper. “Didn’t stop you from telling Tommy, did it?”

You shrugged. “Well, you’re not Tommy.”

Joel scoffed, crossing his arms, clearly entertained. “Telling Tommy is practically the same as telling me.”

You lifted an eyebrow, unfazed. “If it makes you feel better, go ahead and believe that.”

But his amusement faded, and he looked at you with something almost searching, like he was trying to find a trace of the way you used to be with him—kind, understanding, open in a way that had made him comfortable. You saw the shift in his face, in the way his eyes flicked between yours, like he was looking for some doorway back to that version of you. But she wasn’t here. Or maybe she was, just not for him anymore.

Then he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper, as he asked, “Did you sleep with him?”

The question hit you, and you stayed silent, unsure if an answer would expose the bitter knot you felt at your center. You hadn’t slept with Travis, not yet anyway. But Joel didn’t know that, and you found a petty thrill in letting him wonder, letting him believe what he wanted—that other hands, other lips had erased him from your memory, replaced every touch. That he had no longer been the last man to touch you. It was pathetic, you knew it, but the curiosity to see his reaction was stronger than anything else. So you decided not to answer, to let the silence lie for you.

So you simply met his gaze, letting silence serve as an answer, your lips lifting in a faint, cryptic smile. And then you saw the moment he believed it: his jaw tightened, his breath went shallow, and his eyes seemed to darken, hardening.

“Like I said, none of your business,” you finally said, feeling something small and satisfied flare inside.

Joel chuckled, but it was a grim sound. He looked down briefly, and when he looked back up, there was an almost cruel gleam in his eye.

“Did he know where to touch you?”

You scoffed, turning the question back on him. “Do you really want to know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You knew Joel well enough to know he would go there if he could. But you couldn’t let him gain the upper hand, not here. If anything, you needed to keep him off-balance, keep him uncomfortable.

“Oh, I’m all ears,” he replied, his smile gone now, leaving only a hard, steady gaze that felt like it was drilling into you.

You felt your cheeks flush, but you held his gaze, determined.

“He was the best I’ve ever had,” you said, letting each word hang in the air, daring him to question it. You tilted your head, feigning a fond, private recollection. “Gentle, but rough when I wanted him to be. And you want to know the best part?”

Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and for a moment, his expression softened. The dark look in his eyes deepened, his smile long gone.

“Afterwards, when I woke up,” you went on, drawing out each word, “Travis was still there.”

Joel’s head dipped, his eyes dropping to the ground, and you took a brief, selfish moment to take in the sight of him, almost broken in front of you. But something twisted in your chest; the satisfaction felt hollow, quickly replaced by a pang of something closer to pity, almost regret. You had an impulse to reach out, to tell him you hadn’t meant it, that Travis wasn’t even in the picture, that he hadn’t been the best or the first or anything. But you couldn’t allow that.

You had to remind yourself why you’d stopped letting Joel in—how he’d left you out in the cold, how he’d made your feelings seem like nothing, as if they didn’t matter enough to consider. You had to remind yourself of Sienna, this woman who felt like a ghost, hovering between you and Joel, even though you’d never even met her. And if he was really with someone else, what was he doing here, pushing and prying, acting like he had the right to know these things about you? Why was he acting like he cared if you’d moved on, or if you were with someone else, when he was so openly flirting with Clara just a few minutes ago in Brenda’s backyard? Had he become a complete asshole, or had he always been like that and you were just now realizing it?

As the memory of it all flooded back, the tenderness you'd felt earlier drained away, replaced by a familiar, suffocating anger. It surged up from somewhere deep inside you, visceral and sharp, and before you could stop yourself, your body moved instinctively—stepping back, away from him—until your back hit the cold wall by the bathroom door. The impact was jarring, but it felt like a small, needed separation.

Joel didn’t speak right away. He stood still, his eyes shifting downward, slowly, moving over your body, before meeting your face again. His expression was unreadable, like a mask he didn’t quite know how to remove. It irritated you, this silence, this uncertainty that hung between you two like an unwelcome guest.

Finally, you broke the tension, pushing yourself off the wall and stepping back, away from him. But just as you tried to distance yourself, his voice vibrated through the air, low and deliberate, cutting into your thoughts.

“That’s mine,” he said.

“What?” you managed, almost gasping, your eyes darting between his face and his hands, as if looking for something—anything—to explain this new, impossible tension.

Joel didn’t move. He was still, a presence that loomed larger by the second. His gaze was steady on you, tracing your body and your face, slow and deliberate.

“The flannel,” he repeated, his voice dropping lower, rough around the edges. “It’s mine.”

You looked down at the fabric, the soft, familiar warmth of it, and felt a sudden jolt. God. He was right. It was his. But it had been yours for years. You'd worn it so often, so comfortably, that you'd forgotten it ever belonged to anyone else. Maybe he'd lent it to you once, a lifetime ago, on one of those cold nights when you both sat under blankets. But he’d never asked for it back, had he? He never seemed to care, and you never thought to return it. It had just... stayed with you.

When you lifted your eyes back to him, Joel had moved off the wall, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate steps, closing the distance between you. Too close. He was too close, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body as his presence engulfed you.

“What happened?” His voice was soft, but there was a simmering undercurrent, a teasing tone that made your pulse quicken, though you weren’t sure why. “Did you forget to include it in your little box when you gave everything back to me?”

You felt a bitter chuckle bubble in your throat, an angry little sound that you couldn’t quite hold back. You shook your head slightly, irritated, your chest tight as you opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted you, his words coming fast, sharper than before.

“Doesn’t your little boyfriend mind you wearing another man’s clothes?” he asked, his voice dripping with something like disdain, like he had been holding that question inside for far too long. His eyes darkened, gliding down to the fabric again, then to your body, before he reached forward, his fingers brushing the edge of the flannel as if testing the boundaries. “Or does he already know this isn’t the only thing of mine that’s wrapped around you?”

A shiver ran through you, a mixture of anger and something else—something hotter, something less easy to define. You didn’t want to feel it, but it was there, and it was impossible to ignore.

No. This wasn’t about that. This was about him—how dare he?

In a sudden movement, your hands moved to the buttons of the flannel, fumbling with them in a rush, eager to take it off, to rid yourself of him. But as you tugged the fabric down over your shoulders, you felt Joel’s hand close around your left wrist, his palm warm against your skin, halting you, slowing you down. The touch was too familiar, too intimate, and it sent a jolt of something you couldn’t quite identify straight to your stomach.

“No,” he said, his voice suddenly low and commanding, like he was trying to anchor you, like he was trying to hold you in place. “It’s yours. Don’t take it off.”

You snorted, a dry, incredulous sound, and with an almost violent motion, you yanked your hand away from his, finishing the job of removing the flannel with a sharp tug.

Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening further, and for a moment, you could see the effort it took him to stay still. His eyes lingered on you, tracing your every move, as you held the soft fabric against his chest. You could feel the air shift, feel the weight of his gaze on your skin, and your heart beat a little faster.

You looked up at him, the anger suddenly spilling out of you. “No. You’re right. It’s yours. I should have given it back to you a long time ago.”

His hand moved up to his chest, over yours, taking the fabric from you with a slow, deliberate motion.

“Put it back on,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to smooth over something that had frayed. "It's cold outside."

You wanted to fight it, to say something sharp, but your irritation bubbled up before you could stop it.

“Good thing I live across the block, then,” you blurted, the words coming out thicker with frustration as you pulled your hand free from under his, feeling the heat of his fingers linger on your skin.

Joel's patience was running thin. His hand shot out again, grabbing the flannel in a fist and pulling it closer to you, the fabric stretching between your bodies.

“Stop being so stubborn and put it back on,” he said, his tone more demanding, more urgent. His voice had a sharpness to it now, almost like a warning.

Something inside you snapped. You shoved his hand back hard, with as much force as you could muster, pushing him away—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your point. His body didn’t move, though. It stayed solid, unyielding, the broadness of his shoulders making you feel small, like you were being swallowed by his presence.

Frustration bubbled inside you, gnawing at your chest as you turned sharply on your heels, determined to leave. Your steps were quick, purposeful, as you made your way toward the hallway exit, the air heavy with everything left unsaid between you and Joel. But then, a firm grip wrapped around your wrist, dragging you back to him. You pivoted on instinct, meeting his gaze with eyes darkened by anger, sharp and focused.

For a moment, your mind flashed with the impulse to tear his hand off your wrist, to wrench it away and walk out of this whole mess. But you let it go. Instead, you locked eyes with him, your breath catching as your irritation turned into something more potent—exasperation.

“Enough, Joel,” you said, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “I'm tired of fighting with you.” The words spilled out before you could stop them, and inside, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this—how two people who once fit so easily together had ended up here, so broken and scattered.

“Then let’s not fight,” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was pleading. There was a quiet desperation in his words, a slight hitch, as if he was offering a fragile truce. “We can—”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” you interrupted, your words sharp and cold, the bitterness clinging to every syllable. “I can’t stand you anymore.” As soon as they left your lips, you realized how hard and cruel they sounded, but you didn’t care. You were exhausted. Tired of the games, tired of the back-and-forth. The anger inside you surged again, hotter than before, as his fingers tightened around your wrist, forcing you to feel the weight of it. Desperation.

“Don’t look for me,” you continued, the words raw and unrelenting. “Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t look at me. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’ve had enough of all of this. If I could go back in time, I’d change everything, I’d avoid all of this shit.” The heat in your chest built as tears threatened, burning behind your eyes. “But I can’t. I can’t do anything about it, and neither can you, so leave me the fuck alone for once. Avoid me if you can and I’ll avoid you. Pretend I don’t fucking exist. I don't know. Just stop it, Joel.”

The impact of your words hit him like a physical blow. You saw the flash of pain in his eyes, the way his mouth twisted, his face contorting in a wince. Something inside you sank, and for a moment, regret pierced you. But then, the anger pushed the guilt aside. He hadn’t been considerate of you before, had he? And that thought, that realization, let the remorse slip away.

His grip loosened just slightly, but he didn’t release you. Instead, his fingers trailed down to your palm, stroking it gently with his fingertips, his breath shallow and measured, like he was holding himself back from saying something more.

For a moment, you both stood still, suspended in that space, him looking at you, and you trying not to look at him—waiting, anticipating what would come next. What was the right thing to do now? You should walk away. Right now. Now.

But then his voice, quiet and soft, cut through the air.

“You don’t need me anymore?”

“No,” you said, the word escaping before you could stop it. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, and the second it left you, you could feel it: the squeeze in your chest, the twisting of your heart. It wasn’t true, not really. But you wanted it to be. You wanted it to be true more than anything.

Joel’s eyes flickered, just for a second, like they were searching for something in your face that wasn’t there. His expression faltered, his hand falling away from yours, his gaze dropping to the floor, as if the weight of your words had crushed him.

“I know that’s not true, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with something you couldn’t name, but it was too much. You couldn’t bear to see it.

You shook your head, refusing to let the crack in your own resolve show.

“Maybe not, yet,” you said, your voice colder now, harder. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it true.”

With that, you turned away before you could second-guess yourself, before you could see his reaction and let the guilt undo you. You didn’t want to stay. Not now. If you stayed a moment longer, you knew you would apologize, you’d cave, you’d let him back in. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t keep doing this.

You walked quickly back to your seat, each step carrying you farther away from him, from the tension that had become unbearable. You barely noticed Travis’s worried look when you sat down next to him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “You were gone a while.”

You nodded, forcing a weak, half-smile. But inside, it felt like everything was crumbling. Your bones felt brittle, as if they might snap with the weight of it all. Your body had turned to lead, your muscles drained of all strength. Your eyes, heavy with unshed tears, were a reflection of the ache in your chest.

You just wanted to go home, crawl into your bed, and never come out. The lump in your throat grew larger with every second, and the cold air stung your neck, making you shiver.

“What happened to your shirt?” Travis asked, noticing the way your body had become tense and cold.

You didn’t answer, relieved when he stood and came to stand beside you. You watched as he shrugged off his jacket, his movements gentle, as he draped it over your shoulders and helped you tuck your arms into it.

Once you were warm, Travis slipped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him, his soft kiss to the top of your head offering a fleeting moment of comfort. You couldn’t help but lean into him, resting your head on his collarbone, inhaling the familiar scent of his perfume. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the comfort of being held, the peace of someone who wasn’t trying to tear you apart.

But then you heard it—the sliding door opening. And you knew.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him. Joel. Walking out of the house, his pace slow, deliberate, as he clutched the flannel shirt in his left hand. His eyes were cast downward, but when he looked up, they locked on you. His expression shifted, something unreadable in the way he looked at you, and your stomach dropped.

He walked toward his table, his fist clenching the fabric so tightly that his knuckles went white, his gaze never leaving you. You couldn’t look away either. It was like a magnetic pull.

At his table, Carla was waiting, her eyes fixed on him like a hawk circling prey. You felt an involuntary surge of disgust. You wanted to stand up, to march over there and shake her, to tell her to leave, to stop, that she was being pathetic. But then, the sharp, bitter truth hit you: Carla wasn’t the problem. You were. She reminded you of yourself—the way you’d clung to Joel, the way you’d let him define you.

Joel spoke, his voice angry and loud enough for you to hear from where you sat.

“I’m going home,” he said, his eyes cutting through Carla as he raised his head to her height. Then he pulled back, holding out his hand. “Y'wanna come with me?”

And there it was—the knot in your chest tightened. Carla nodded, flushed with a victorious smile, and took his hand. The same hand that had held yours just minutes before.

You closed your eyes, sinking further into Travis’s embrace, the ache in your chest spreading, overwhelming.

You couldn’t leave now. Not with him walking out, not with her next to him. What would you do? Cross paths with them on the way out? Watch them walk away together? The thought was unbearable.

“Can we go to your place for a while?” Your voice was small, almost breaking as you whispered into Travis’s chest.

“Sure thing, honey,” he murmured, the warmth of his body offering a small, fleeting comfort against the storm of emotions inside you.

@nobodyssfool @gigistorm @ @auteurdelabre @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @cosmic006533-blog @doblasftcisco @maiyart @concrete-jungleeee @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @powellssaturn @kyloispunk @paleidiot @aceaubrianna @liciafonseca @kaolusha @beeboopski

@maryfanson @rosebuds-and-moonlight @the-universe-is-complicated @formulafun @chewie-bars @glizzymcguirex @pedroswife69 @ivoryandflame @dixonswingz @sarahhxx03 @mellymbee @dailyobsession @msmorningstaarr @mystickittytaco @xxreginaxx @marellabyr @spacegirl-3 @alrihhty @heheheilovepedro @svrgs-blog @94namkooksworld @puddles221b @cowboymcflurry @medusaandposeidonshead @stylesispunk @sweatpeakarolinaa @puddles221b @deansimpalagirl @jasminedragoon @lover-of-books-and-tea @whimsiwitchy @cuteanimalmama @theherothesavior @ivoryandflame

#joel miller needs to STOP #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fic #tlou hbo #tlou joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #capuccinodoll #joel x you #joel x y/n

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cedarmoonzz · 4 months ago

Text

between the bars •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

followed by: once more to see you and slow like honey

fandom: gravity falls

ship: ford pines x reader

warnings: brief mention of boners, making out, angst

summary:

being engaged to the world’s smartest idiot feels like navigating a storm while he’s engrossed in his portal research. you wonder if there’s anything you can do to help him.

Three months.

Ninety-one sleepless, tormented days.

That’s how long you’ve watched Ford, once so full of life, become a shell of himself.

Each day seems to blend into the next, weighed down by the crushing demands of his portal. His bright eyes have lost their spark, replaced by a weary, distant look that suggests he is fighting a constant battle with exhaustion. He’s always buried in his research, disappearing into a maze of endless calculations and theories, only coming up to ask for coffee, food, or help with his measurements. Each interaction is a reminder of the distance that has grown between you, making you ache for the vibrant person he is beneath all the work. It allows you to realize something.

Stanford is an incredibly stubborn man.

You count your breaths, letting the full force of Ford’s distance fill you. Once a day, only in the evening, you allow yourself to feel abandoned, lost, and alone—but only here, only in the evening, before Stanford trudges upstairs for his third pot of coffee. Afterwards, you must set these feelings aside, for there is still so much work to be done, so much still at stake.

Stanford lets you handle all the paper calculations and complex math for the portal, trusting you with the intricate details crucial to his project. Yet, despite your role, he keeps you from seeing the fruits of your labor. You are barred from the basement, the place where the results of your hard work come to life. This exclusion only deepens your sense of isolation and frustration, as you toil endlessly without ever truly understanding the impact of your efforts. The distance between what you contribute and what you’re allowed to see only reinforces the feeling of being a cog in a machine, valued for your skills but denied any real connection to the end result.

Beyond the kitchen door, you can hear your lab mates arguing. The last light of day was leaking through the fissures of the window shutters, changing shape as they paced outside, their shadows stretching to where you sit, hidden, not yet prepared to face them. Though you could not make out their words, you could detect the urgency in their voices. You pressed your palms against your eyes and sighed, then rolled up the loose sleeves of Stanford’s (now your) sweater.

With a harsh, abrupt grunt, akin to the percussive crack of a twig beneath a boot, your fiancé wrenched the splintered door open, slamming it shut with a resounding thud. You were jolted from your thoughts, having been lost in your own reverie as the unexpected noise shattered your concentration. As he stood there, his face etched with a mixture of anger and exhaustion, you could see the deep lines of fatigue and frustration carved into his features. He muttered a stream of incoherent curses under his breath, his visible irritation and weariness painting a stark picture of his emotional state.

Softly, you encouraged him. “Ford, what is it?”

He didn’t answer; he only stood, looking at you as if he might scream.

“It’s Fiddleford!” Stanford growled. “He’s speaking nonsense! Trying to propose that only bad can come from the portal we spent months on! Your calculations, my handiwork and experience? All down the drain because McGucket is scared? It’s ridiculous! I should’ve never trusted him. It seems I can trust no one with my work these days!”

His words caught you between places: you stare down at the ring that graced your finger, the tea kettle whistling, trails of steam emitting behind you, leaving you in between your selves.

“No one?” you repeat, but did not elaborate further. You did not want to be cruel to him, but now that he had insulted you (now, of all times, when you were working so hard to understand him), it was difficult to resist lashing out at him.

Ford paused, words caught between his teeth as you stood in silence. “[Y/n]… my love.” Regret crept into his voice, daring to color his words with a warmth you were sure was genuine—but rather than comfort, it only wounded you. “Of course I can trust you. This portal… It wouldn’t be possible without your work.”

It broke you—or broke what feeble grip you had on yourself, the reserves of strength you used to keep your grief and despair in check all spent.

“My work,” you spat out, almost hissing the words through clenched teeth. You threw the kettle off the stove and pivoted to confront him, closing the distance between you with two broad, angry strides. Pointing a finger at him, you seethed, “Is that all the trust you have? Just your precious portal? Ford, when was the last time you actually talked to me? I can't deal with this anymore! I followed you all the way to Gravity Falls, to the middle of nowhere, and you barely let me see the full scope of my work. Always holed up in the basement.”

Your palm remains red from the heat of the kettle’s handle, but that does not burn as bad as the heat of your fiancé’s abandonment. And still, stupidly, in spite of it all, you wanted to trust Ford. To believe that there was a reason, an explanation for all the half-truths and deceptions. You want to protect him. You want your answers. You want to see him: not a passing nod of acknowledgment, or a pat on the back as you walk past him, or a fragment of him in a dream, but his skin in the flesh, and you loathe yourself for how badly you want it… but you turn that loathing outward, funneling it through the anger, and set the air around you crackling with fury.

As you glared at him, a profound sense of abandonment and worthlessness enveloped you like a shroud. It felt as though you had been reduced to nothing more than a glorified calculator in Ford’s eyes—a mere instrument, a cog in the vast machinery of his ambitions, used and discarded with no regard for your own significance. The weight of your perceived insignificance bore down on you, each moment in his shadow a reminder of how fleeting and unimportant your role had become. The very essence of your being seemed to diminish with every unacknowledged contribution, leaving you to wrestle with the crushing realization that your efforts and sacrifices had been eclipsed by his relentless pursuit, barely noted and even less appreciated.

Stanford’s eyes met yours, narrowing ever so slightly as he took in the gravity of the moment. He measured the tension between you, a flicker of regret crossing his features as he struggled to comprehend the full extent of your pain. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken remorse, before he finally cleared his throat, his voice betraying a hint of sorrow for the hurt he had caused and the realization of how far he had let things go.

“I'm sorry, [Y/n].” Stanford reached out to hold your waist—and did you imagine it, or did you lean into that touch, pressing your body to the warmth of his open palms? You swallowed. Softly, he asked you, “Do you want me to go?”

You shook your head, more as an excuse to look away from him than anything—now that you had reprimanded him, you realized just how close he was, and your hair fell in front of your eyes, offering you a moment of reprieve. It was difficult having him so near; when your rage subsided, you were left with a profound sense of abandonment and a wounded heart. In a voice tinged with desperation and hurt, you asked, “Why can’t you just let me help you, Ford?”

As the words left your lips, you found yourself instinctively moving closer, your breath mingling with his. The proximity heightened the tension between you, the unspoken emotions crackling in the air. Your lips nearly brushed his as you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice blending with an undeniable, charged intimacy.

“[Y/n],” he begs, but he keeps his hands around your waist. “It’s dangerous…” But even as he speaks, his head is falling towards yours, his mouth ajar and questing, breath ragged.

You lift your hand from the collar of Stanford’s lab coat to hold his face, running your thumb tenderly over the stubble that graced his sharp jawline.

“I’m just as capable as Fiddleford,” you whisper, only inches between you now, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck as you speak the words. “Let me prove myself to you.”

Ford shudders. When his eyes meet yours again, they read something within them—perhaps some hidden fate or doom—and then, he remains. He holds you in his eyes like he is weighing you, or trying to carry a piece of you away with him. With a weary sigh, he lifts his hands to frame your face instead, tracing your cheek with his thumb. He leans forward—you dare not breathe—and presses his lips to your brow, just below the line of your hair. You can feel the soft warmth of his breath against the top of your head. Your eyes sting with tears; you will your body not to shake.

“I know you’re incredibly intelligent, but what Fiddleford saw in that portal… it ruined him. I don’t want the same fate for you.” He pleads, raising a hand of his own as if to pry yours from his face, but it trembles instead, then covers yours, holding the warmth of your palm to his cheek. “It is not that simple.”

“It can be,” you insist, as you lower your other hand to rest above his frantic, pounding heart. “It is.”

The space between the two of you is shrinking before you know whether you or Ford had moved first. Then your palm was carding through the tangled brown hair at the back of his head, drawing him closer as you kiss. When your mouths first met, Ford flinched, as though he might retreat… but he parted his lips for you, and your knees weaken at the taste of his tongue. You clutched his lab coat; his hands danced across your waist to the small of your back and held you against him. His heat rose against you; you could feel him through his slacks, insistent against your thigh—

“I’m sorry,” Stanford whispers, his lips brushing against yours before he pulls away. He turns abruptly and exits the room. Without another word, he heads straight for the basement, leaving you standing there, your heart aching with the weight of unsaid confessions and unfulfilled desires. The intensity of the moment lingers in the air, a palpable reminder of the emotional distance that remains between you.

The way he looked at you was too much; so much unspoken between the two of you, so much you wish to tell him, confess to him: how he always makes you feel safe. That this whole research project, the calculations and all, had only ever been bearable because he had let you be by his side. That his presence is more valuable to you than anything; that you had treasured every moment spent with him. That you’re worried for him.

That you felt like he was in danger, and you were running out of time.

#gravity falls #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #angst #lime #longing #ford is kind of an asshole #gravity falls x reader

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yandere--stuck · 3 months ago

Note

would u ever write more for stanley.. its so dry out here.. stanation is suffering in a drought……….

You're so right, I'm so sorry, Stanation!!!!

---

💰 Stanley's obsession for you manifests into rocketing between pitiful internal justification for his possessive feelings for you and deep, deep self-loathing and disgust with himself while trying to distance himself from you. Oh, and who could forget, Stanley allowing himself to indulge in fantasies of you returning his feelings and living out happily ever after together. Ha, like that'll ever happen! … But, a man can dream, can't he? Just nice, sappy, romantic stuff, you know? Cuddling together in bed, making the kids breakfast with sleep still in both your eyes, watching the sunset together on the porch, and scaring off any lousy creep that tries to take what's his with one of his many guns. In fact, he may already be doing that last one.

🎲 Talks a big game and acts like a tough guy around you, but it couldn't be further from the truth - at least when it comes to you. In reality, when Stan's around you, he feels one second away from breaking and acting like a lovesick puppy. He feels like a kid with a crush! He hasn't felt this way since he was a young man! It'd be embarrassing if it, if you, didn't make him so happy. He just feels lucky he hasn't turned into a babbling, blushing idiot in front of you or the kids. That's for when your backs are turned. There have been some close calls, though. Like the time he got so lost in listening to you speak that he hadn't realized he'd started resting the side of his face on his hand while staring at you, hearts practically in his eyes. The moment he realized, he'd run off from you with a shout of, “Nonspecific excuse!”

💰 Stan is a bit of a collector, and that certainly doesn't stop with you. He loves snatching little keepsakes from you. Nothing you'd miss, or nothing you'd miss for long. Discarded doodles, forgotten gloves, change that had fallen to the floor unnoticed, and occasionally, your phone, to make sure he didn't have a competition. Everything he keeps goes into his study. He also likes swiping your unfinished snacks or drinks and finishing them himself - he thinks of it as an indirect kiss (yeah, he's gross, what of it?) And it's hard to admit even to himself, but he gets a certain thrill whenever he snaps a candid shot of you from one of the polaroid he swiped from stock for “store use.” That's not all, though! He goes through security camera footage and rifles through it for cute videos of you - ah, but hey, you're always cute, aren't you? He saves them all and watches them religiously. He also may secretly go through Mabel's scrapbook to find pictures of you and make copies of them for his own personal collection, always making sure it gets returned to Mabel seemingly untouched. It's probably the most organized collection he has! And, of course, he's put a framed picture of you right beside the one of Mabel and Dipper in the laboratory downstairs. It makes Stan think of an imagined, impossible world where you and he raise the two together. Your own little family.

🎲 Another fantasy he indulges in is drugging you up and keeping you hidden in the laboratory. It'd be so easy. You're so trusting of him when you really shouldn't be, when he doesn't deserve to be. It'd be so easy to steal you away all for himself. Gravity Falls is a weird town. Strange things happen, and they either go unremembered or unspoken. Sure, you'd be missed, but it's not like the police force in town would get very far. Heck, he'd put more faith in his grand-niblings cracking the case than Blubs and Durland! And, well, you stole his heart first. It's only fair. And Stan would take such good care of you, he knows it! He'd keep you all nice and drugged up. Maybe you'd be euphoric and clingy, or your brain too foggy to escape or do much for yourself, or maybe he'd give you something so that you're too sick to even consider leaving for the hospital lest your condition worsen any further. You'd need him. That's all he'd ever want.

💰 Stan is very protective of you. He tries not to be so obvious, but his temper had such a short fuse when it came to you. You were just so sweet, so nice, even to a scumbag like him! You were so good with the kids, always such a help around the shack, even going so far as to visit on your day off just because you liked the Pines’ company. Liked his company. I mean, how the hell could anyone think they're good enough for you? Nah, nah, nah, he's not letting any mouth-breathing idiots in this town try to make moves on you just because they're too stupid to realize you're outta their league! And if he even thinks he hears someone a bad word about you, he'll be up in their face, cussing them out and making threats (as well as very rude hand gestures.) It's embarrassing for him afterwards, though. He doesn't want to think he's losing control and becoming more obvious, but with how Mabel claims it was ‘so sweet’ of him to be so protective of you, he can't help but worry.

🎲 Stan gradually becomes more physically affectionate with you. “Accidentally” brushing his hands against yours, leaving a hand on your shoulder or arm for a bit too long, nearly embarrassing himself by wrapping you up in a hug in front of everyone. He just can't help it! He's… He's in love! He's in love with you, and he wants to be with you. You make him happy just by being near him. You make his life better just by being in it. He wants to hold you, hug you, kiss you, be with you, and keep you with him forever. But, Stan also knows he can't. You'd never agree to it, surely. No matter how much Stan wants to think otherwise. Old bastard like him, he wasn't good enough for you - but then again, he thought no one was. But he could take comfort in you just being near him (if you ever tried to leave, he doesn't know what he'd do…) That way, at least, he couldn't screw anything up. That's all he'd do, anyway. It'd fail, just like all of his other relationships and all because of him. He should know better. He should know that he's a fuckup, that he destroys everything he touches, and that everyone he's ever known has suffered because of him. He just… He just wishes he could be closer. He knows he's not good enough for you to love him or need him and that he never will be, but God, does he wish he was.

#yandere x reader #yandere gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #grunkle stan x reader #stan pines x reader #stan pines x you #stanley pines x reader #yandere stan pines #yandere stanley pines #yandere #x reader #tw drugging #drugging mention #drugging

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the-meme-monarch · 2 months ago

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about to start season 2 of gravity falls and hey are we done with Mabel Has To So Much As Tolerate A Guy Who Wants To Date her That She’s Not Fucking Interested In plots

#throwing gideon like a wet paper towel at the wall. grow up HDHSHSHSHDHSJSJ #i feel like I have to say this all the time but it’s good for characters to suck. for them and us #so this again isn’t really a Criticism of the show just a Oh This Makes Me Sad thing. yknow #but oh my god stop trying to force mabel to marry you. the gnomes and gideon #if you’re afab youve Likely had to deal w boys not fucking taking no for an answer. or you Cant tell them Firmly no bc of societal pressure #it made me feel Bad. i was sick i was ill. don’t remind me of real life you’re a cartoon /JOKEY #i didn’t realize gideon And The Gnomes were still hung up on her until the dreamscapers two parter. get over yourselves ‼️ she said no #also in a similar vein bc I know everyone talks abt how Immediately sick of it they were w dippers crush on wendy and. Yeah #though funny enough it didn’t Show itself until a few episodes after wendy’s appearance i feel #i feel like i remember it being The episode she was introduced #words from the monarch #gravity falls

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mysslyssblog · 3 months ago

Note

dating dipper pines head cannons?

Dating older Dipper Pines headcanons (15-16)

Warnings: reader is described as feminine.

Thank you so much for the request! If you have any requests please send them!!

————————————————————————

dating Dipper Pines headcanons

-Definitely friends to lovers

-I can see enemies to lovers but I don’t think Dipper would date you unless he knew you

-Speaking of that, looks don’t really matter to him

-He cares about personality

-Dipper loves you for you

-Even though he would want to be friends before dating, I can picture him having a crush on you when you guys first meet

-He would definitely be STRESSING when you’re around

-Especially when you guys go on adventures

-HE IS A SIMP (haven’t used that word in a while but I can’t think of another word 😭)

-He really wants to impress you

-He also really wants you to see him as “manly”

-Even though he grew out of that insecurity a while ago, it still lingers in the back of his mind so make sure to reassure him that he’s manly

-When you guys first start dating I feel like it might be a bit awkward

-Not necessarily in a bad way but like a cute way

-You would definitely be his first EVERYTHING

-His first girlfriend, kiss, etc.

-Probably his first touch from a woman who’s not his mom

-You boost his ego A LOT

-Make sure to give him lots of compliments to up his confidence

-As time goes on he gets a lot more comfortable with you

-It won’t take long until you guys are basically back to normal

-You’re basically best friends who kiss

-Speaking of kissing..

-Your guy’s first kiss was A MESS

-He was so sweaty and red he could barely even stay awake

-He swears he was going to pass out

-He closed his eyes too soon so he practically missed you lips and he went in to fast so he hit your nose on accident and it HURT

-He apologized so many times

-He felt so bad

-The kiss was so bad you guys don’t even consider that a kiss

-You guys made it up with a somewhat better kiss the next day

-Once he’s comfortable his loves kissing you

-He loves kissing your lips, your head, your cheek

-It’s definitely just a quick peck, nothing crazy

-He secretly likes pda

-Nothing crazy just things like hand holding or an arm around your shoulder

-He’s a hypocrite because he hates pda when it comes to other people but when it comes to you..

-He loves letting other people know that he pulled the prettiest girl ever

-When you guys are alone he’s an absolute teddy bear

-He loves cuddling and he LOVES being the big spoon

-It makes him feel manly

-CLINGYYYY

-When he gets tired he doesn’t even notice how clingy he gets

-You’ll force him to put down his book and then tuck him in

-When you move to go to Mabel’s bed (where you normally sleep) he’ll practically drag you done to his bed and wraps his arms around you waste and burry his face in the crook of your neck

-He’s also very confident when he’s tired

-He’ll make moves on you that he wouldn’t do in a million years when he’s awake and actually in control of what he’s doing

-Dipper is very gentle with you

-His touches are so light, worried that he’ll make you uncomfortable

-Consent KING

-He will NEVER do anything that you’re not 100% okay with

-He’s always been very gentle with you even before you guys dated

-This is why you were the only one who knew he was possessed by Bill the first summer he came to Gravity Falls

-Every time Dipper leaves you to go back to California he’s a MESS

-You guys are constantly calling and texting

-Mabel and Dipper use any and every excuse to go to Gravity Falls

-Every time Dipper comes back to Gravity Falls he holds you for HOURS and claims that he “has to make up all the times I wasn’t cuddling you”

-Everyone loves you two together

-Mabel is your number one supporter

-Dipper loves you with all his heart and would do anything for you

-Moral of the story is Dipper Pines is the best boyfriend ever and I wish he was real

————————————————————————

Thanks for the request anon!! Please leave requests if you have any! Also I won’t be writing as often as I would like because I have school and volleyball now 🙄. I am working on making my last one shot a series so if you guys have ideas of what to put it in write it in the comments or send me a request. Thank you all for all the likes!

#gravity falls #dipper pines #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #x reader #alex hirsch #dipper pines x reader #mabel pines #pines family

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cry4mina · 1 month ago

Text

Changing Lenses

(Momo x fem!reader)

Word Count: 12.3k

Slightly Angsty (but for like 2 minutes) Fluff/Smut

Summary: Your ex girlfriend’s best friend transfers to your school and you’re forced to complete a photography project with her. In time you realize that maybe she’s not who you thought she was…maybe even way better than you hoped.

TW: drinking, food, eating, camping, sex, oral, a lil degradation, a little choking, a little this and that. Taking a picture mid-sex, uhhhhh talks of abusive moments in past relationships. There’s a bear.

AN: Happy Early Momo daaaaaay! Thank you to @psylocke142 for yapping with me about this and helping fuel my delusion!

Please enjoy and drink some water today! Ask are always open and feedback is always welcome! :)🖤

“I’m actually kind of excited for this project! I’m really hoping whoever I’m paired with wants to get the nature prompt too. Especially because the mountains are literally right there.” pointing out the window to show an array of different hilltops that you and your friends frequented for the trails.

“I hope I get the ocean.” Tzuyu, your best friend, flips her hair and checks out the girl who sat in the corner of the study hall.

“You just want to work with Chaeyoung…and she wants the ocean prompt…you can’t even swim.” smirking and giving a light chuckle while shaking your head no in a half hearted tease.

Tzuyu whips her head around, gawking at you while giving her classic “oh my god shut up” look before giving up and swooning over Son Chaeyoung again.

“Well…maybe she will teach me.” sighing as she rests her head on her palm and daydreams about getting partnered with her crush.

“I truly don’t even care who I get partnered with, I just want the mountains. It would be fun to go explore and find animals in their natural habitats, don’t you think?” excitedly leaving your lips as Tzuyu is lost in her delusion.

“Alright everyone!” the professor calms everyone down, bringing their attention to the front of the room.

“We will be doing the pairings for the project shortly, but before we do, I’ve got a new student want to introduce you to!” ushering them into the class room.

Bright blonde hair in a bob style was the first thing you noticed, a red polo that’s cropped and had white stripes across the shirt horizontally was second, the pants were brown and high waisted and her sneakers tied all the colors together.

The girl turns to face the class and immediately your stomach drops, a small gasp follows the dip in your stomach when you realize who she is and why you know her.

“Everyone! This is Momo. She just transferred here from across town. Momo is a very talented photographer, some of her pictures have been featured on the schools website! We are very excited to have you here Momo.” the professor nods her head at Momo and then looks at the class.

“And I’m sure everyone is going to make you feel welcome, right class?” a glare from the teacher and everyone is nodding their head.

Momo finds a seat in the back of the class room next to Chaeyoung and makes small talk with her and you try not to freak out.

“Damn, did you see blondie? She’s kinda cute.” biting her lip and making her eyebrows dance at you continuing her normal playful antics.

“Tzu…I hate to break this to you but no way in HELL am I speaking to that woman.” the distain in your voice could’ve been picked up a mile away.

“Why not? What’s wrong with her? She’s got a fashion sense, the blonde bob is working for her AND she’s a good photogra-”

“That’s Sana’s best friend, Tzuyu.” cutting her off mid sentence so she could understand the gravity of this.

“Sana’s best friend?? Oh, shit.” her typical doe-eyed expression molted into a stunned appearance as she brings her full attention to you for the first time today.

“Yeah, oh shit is right.” rolling your eyes and crossing your arms before laying your head on the desk.

Sana….Minatozaki Sana, your ex-girlfriend. The relationship between the two of you was…well, it wasn’t great.

Hence, the ex part.

You dated for a few years and she was always busy with everyone but you, including Momo. Prioritizing everything but you and your relationship, it hurt you. Of course, it hurt you. At the drop of a hat, you would’ve done anything for her but it wasn’t a shared sentiment.

Not that you and Momo didn’t get along but she always kept to herself when you were around, not wanting to partake in conversations, even small talk, seemingly keeping a distance.

Getting over Sana wasn’t easy by any means. The way she made you feel altered your brain chemistry, and not for the better. Feeling like an accessory to her, only really calling you when she wanted you around her arm, was excruciating every single time.

Still trying to heal from the open wound Sana left you with, you remember the times that didn’t seem so bad. The memories flashing before your eyes before settling coldly in your chest, you weren’t going to crucify Sana but you did still hold some anger towards her.

“Y/n!” professor shouting your name to get your attention.

Startled by this, you jump in your seat - causing a small wave of laughter through the classroom.

“You’ll be paired with Momo. I trust that you will teach her anything she might be behind on, should there be anything.”

The fakest smile you can muster graces your face, even if you were internally screaming - hellfire, blood and brimstone in your lungs because of course this is your luck.

“I’d be happy to.” through clenched teeth.

The professor gives you a strange look and then carries on with pairing people. Tzu and Chae got paired together, Tzuyu almost fell out of her seat when the professor partnered them up.

“You will be responsible for taking pictures of animals and their natural habitats in order to capture unique moments in nature as if it’s for national geographic. Due to to safety concerns, we will be excepting shots from farther away than normal. If any of you see a larger animal that can cause harm, DO NOT APPROACH IT. I’m looking at you, Chaeyoung. That’s why you and Tzuyu are paired up so she can keep you out of trouble…and why you got the ocean prompt you wanted…I don’t want another replay of last time, do you understand?” the tone of her voice is somehow stern, yet playful.

Last project, Chaeyoung befriended the raccoons behind the school, bringing them into class to show them off with the pictures she took of them. They created a massive mess in the classroom and have been trying to sneak back into the building sense.

“I wouldn’t be able to bring a shark in here anyways…” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes at the professor before making eye contact with Tzuyu and offering a wink to her.

Chae has to know, especially with the shade of red that Tzuyu turned when she saw the wink, along with the little gasp - she turned away and proceeded to gay panic to you about it.

Too lost in thought and worried about how this project was going to go, unable to think about anything else. You even considered not participating in it, despite how excited you were moments ago.

It was too big of a grade to skip out on, unfortunately.

The bell rings and you are out the door so quickly, leaving Tzuyu behind and practically running to your car.

“Hey! Wait!” a voice calls from behind you.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you knew exactly who it was.

Tensing up, you take a deep breath and turn around slowly to see Momo jogging towards you, trying to catch up to you with a sheepish smile on her face.

“Hey.” offered to her only out of wanting to be polite.

“Hi.” she offers the same fake niceties back to you.

Both of you shuffle your feet around, not really knowing what to say before she breaks the silence.

“I know this is going to be a little weird considering…but I know you’re very creative and I did always admire the pictures that you took so maybe we can put all the weirdness aside and just do the project?” there’s something genuine about this that peaks your interest.

Hirai Momo, best friend of Minatozaki Sana was being nice to you…?

“I can put my anger aside to work together in this sense.” Momo squints her eyes at you.

There it is.

“HA! Your anger? What could you possibly be angry about Momo? Me breaking up with your best friend because she treated me like shit and decided to only be my girlfriend when she wanted to? Or was it something else?” the sharpness of your tone and remarks catch her off guard, not expecting you to react the way you did.

“Wow, Sana was right…you really are a bitch.”

“Wow, you really are Sana’s best friend…can’t even think of a proper comeback, can you? Do you get mad when people stand up to you too?” rolling your eyes and sighing.

“You have my number. Text me when you’re less…whatever this weird defensive thing is.” turning and walking away for this weird situation you found yourself in.

Very happy to find your car, you slip into the drivers seat and take a deep breath. Unable to believe this was happening to you. She was pissed about what exactly?

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” said to yourself as you turn the key, sparking the ignition and driving off of campus to your apartment.

—

“I can’t fucking believe her.” pacing around your small shared apartment on the northside while Tzuyu is checked out and scribbling hearts with and initials, T+C to be exact.

Stopping in your tracks, you turn to face Tzuyu who is laying down on her stomach on the couch, kicking her feet and humming to herself.

“Tzu…are you even listening?” snarky in your question because you knew the answer was no.

“Of course! Momo sucks and Sana sucks. That’s the tldr.” going back to doodling her hearts in her notebook.

Scoffing at her, you plop next to her on the couch and turn on the TV. Grabbing your back pack and pulling out your laptop.

Time to make a list of the animals that you’d try to take pictures of, depending on what was out at the time. I was close to fall so the odds of a few different animals being visible was high.

The national park website was a nightmare to navigate, you click on a few different links and compile a list of what you should be looking for.

-***Otters*** (prevalent in national parks, should be able to find them easily- in or around the rivers)

-***Deer*** (also prevalent in parks, kind of everywhere so just…look?)

-***Black Bears*** (omnivores and should get picture from distance if seen)

-***Barn Owl*** (Not rare, but cute)

-***Maybe a leopard..?*** (super rare, less that 100 but what a dream that would be)

-***Whatever else we see***

Focused on your research, your phone startles you when it goes off. Looking down to see her name just the way you typed it when you first met.

***Momo:*** Hey, I’m sorry about today. [4:12pm]

***Momo:*** I know that this is awkward and I’m sorry for being passive aggressive. [4:13pm]

***You:*** It’s fine. [4:15pm]

***Momo:*** So…how do you want to do this project? [4:17pm]

***You:*** Well, I’m going to go camping in the mountains that we have our assignment in this weekend. Friday to Sunday. [4:20pm]

***Momo:*** Great, I’m coming with you. I’ll pick you up at 3pm on Friday. [4:23pm]

***You:*** Fine. [4:25pm]

Tossing your phone on the couch, you look over at Tzuyu who is still in her own little world, texting who you can only assume is Chaeyoung.

“Oh my god, Chaeyoung just asked me if I wanted to go to the beach with her!” screeched out over the movie playing in the background.

“…For the project?” coming across as bitter in the moment, stress getting to you more than usual.

“Well…I mean, yes. But think about what you wear to the beach…and also it’s the beach!” jumping out of her previous position to hop up and down in place.

Rolling your eyes, you stand up and gather your things, backpack, laptop, and phone before making your way to your room.

“I’m happy for you, Tzu” trying not to sound dismissive as you close the door behind you and put your stuff down next to your desk in the corner.

Taking a deep breath- you try to forget. Not just the Momo situation but what it brings up for you. All the thoughts about Sana rush back into your mind’s eye, remembering all of what she put you through and the harsh words exchanged when the unhealthy relationship was brought to a point.

A single tear falls from your eye, though this was a year ago…it still bothered you. It rewired the way you thought about relationships and life with others. It made you want to isolate as she would say some horrific things to you subtly and wore you down until you thought she was the only person who could truly love you for you.

It was heavy to carry on your shoulders.

Plopping down on the bed, you try to decompress a little bit. A few deep breaths just to try and focus yourself back on the present, but it failed.

Dissociating for the rest of the night seemed to be your body’s plan, trying not to hurt your own feelings by reliving the memories with Sana and the future anxieties about having to work closely with Hirai Momo.

—

“I think that is everything.” whispered to yourself, sifting through the few changes of clothes and the camping equipment you decided to bring with you.

Most of the bigger things were in the truck of your car. The small grill, the wood for the fire, and a a cooler for some food you were going to bring with you. The tents you were bringing are currently tangled in your back seat but you would sort that out while you wait for Momo to arrive.

Not putting it past her to just leave you high and dry, you wonder if she will actually show up. Besides, her best friend was flaky, why wouldn’t she be?

Bringing down your bags to the car, you see Tzuyu is already gone. Chaeyoung and her went to the beach about an hour down south and rented an Air B&B so they could stay the weekend and complete their project.

A smirk on your face, you wonder how much of the project they will actually do considering Tzuyu is head over heels for Chaeng and Chaeyoung seemed interested enough to pay for the rental on the beach, which wasn’t exactly cheap for a broke college student.

Looking at your phone, the time reads 2:17pm. Momo said she would be here at 3pm so you’ve got 45-ish minutes to untangle these tents. Arguably the most important part of camping.

Not even bothering to ask Momo if she was going to bring anything, you just assumed she wouldn’t so you packed just about everything you would need - she would probably be unbearable the entire time and just complain like a certain someone she was close to.

Rolling your eyes at this scenario, you keep tugging at the ropes and trying to undo the massive knots that built up and strengthened over the years of sitting in storage.

A honk startles you out of concentration.

Looking up, you see a black SUV in the parking lot behind you. Blonde bob in the driver’s seat subtly waving at you. Waving her to come over to you, you say nothing. Just point at the pile of supplies that will sustain you for the next few days.

“Do you want me to load this up while you…uh, untangle that?” shouted out the window of the car.

“No, I’ll help you.” putting the tent back in the back seat of the car and closing the door, planning on returning to that after everything was packed up in the car.

Momo turns the car off and gets out. She’s wearing a crop top and some cargo pants, a little out of character for her but okay…we are camping, after all.

She walks around the car to open the trunk, you can’t help but notice how toned she is. Her abs and arms are muscular…No, no. You can’t have those thoughts about her. This is Sana’s best friend, snap out of it.

Bringing a few duffle bags to the trunk, you toss them in the back. Momo grabs the cooler full of ice and various food items and puts it in the trunk without even wincing….damn, she’s strong.

Once everything was done, Momo closed the trunk and you both got in the car.

“Alright, are you ready?” looking over at you, she was trying to be polite though you had a hard time believing that.

“Yeah.” softly as you turn your attention to your phone and try to tune her out.

“Are you sure? Because we are going to be out in the middle of a national forest so I just want to make sure everything you want, you have.” the tone this comes with is more caring that snarky, which surprises you.

“I’m sure.” Looking up from your phone to give her the smallest smile you could, she returns the gesture and starts driving towards the park where you would spend the next few days together.

—

The drive was long with no talking between the two of you, grateful she had good taste in music at least, you can’t help but wonder if this is as awkward for her as it is for you. 2 hours of music you both enjoyed was a better start to this adventure than you anticipated.

You didn’t know Momo well, but you knew her well enough to know that you had a few things in common. Photography being the biggest one, but you’re now discovering that music taste is also something that you shared.

“I love this song.” softly to her as she turns into the park.

“Me too.” as she pulled up to the small building that blocks off the entrance and rolls her window down.

“Good Evening! Do you have a reservation?” the man dressed in all khaki cheerfully asks as you pull out your ID.

“Yes, it should be under L/n Y/n.” chiming in from the seat over and passing your ID to him.

“Great, give me one moment.” the man walks back to the office and does something on his computer before returning with a tag for the rearview mirror of the car.

“You ladies will be on lot 64! Please remember to throw away your trash and leave the site how you found it! Here is a can of bear mace, just in case as it is the season where they are preparing to go into hibernation. Please also remember to not leave any food out as that attracts them! Enjoy your stay!” the man taps the car lightly and waves you off.

Find the spot was tricky, the numbers were not in order at all but you managed. Happy to see the spot was a little deeper in the woods and closer to the trails than you thought it would be - you could take better pictures this way and it was secluded, which was always nice.

Momo put the car in park and hopped out. You took your time, putting the bear mace in the glove box, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes before getting out.

She’s already in the trunk, unloading things and putting them where she thought they would go.

Helping her in this task, you start setting up.

Placing the wood to the side and gathering some of the dry leaves from the trees around you, being sure to push them away from the fire pit before building up the wood so it would catch easier.

The silence between the two of you is awkward, wondering if there would be any reprieve to the tension of being out here with someone you only saw in a negative light.

“Hey Y/n…” the tone takes you off guard, it sounds concerned.

“Yes, Momo?”

“Did you remember to pack the tents you were untangling?” her brows are furrowed, glaring at you because she already knows the answer.

“…Shit.”

“Shit is right… Don’t worry, that’s why I told you I was driving.” turning around to face the trunk of her car, before crawling inside.

“What do you mean?” confusion paints a picture on your face as you walk over and watch her pull a latch on the back seats and push them down, they hit the front and end up at an angle.

“Well, your car is a car. This being an SUV, if it rained or got too cold or anything, we could just sleep in the back. Like a back up plan, you know?” jumping out, she walks over to the driver’s seat and scoots it all the way up, doing the same for the passenger seat.

The back seats slip down past the front seats and land flatly, creating a somewhat spacious area. There is a small handle located on the floor of trunk in the SUV, Momo tugs on the latch and you hear the bulky plastic click, opening up her spare tire compartment.

“Can you toss me the sleeping bags?” a hand reaching out to catch them while she holds the door open.

Doing as she says, you bring her the sleeping bags and watch as she tugs a massive king sized fleece blanket out from the compartment and close it.

“I’m going to get a fire going…” quietly as she rustles around with the bags, linking them together and getting tangled in them.

“K!” shouted back to you as she starts to lay them flat and spread them out to fit the entire back of her car and partially up the sides of the back doors.

Walking over to the fire pit that previously had your attention, shoving more of the dried leaves into the bottom and stacking them against the wood that was holding itself up. Sparking your lighter, you put the flame to the kindling and let it catch before backing up.

The fire took no time to roar in front of you, catching the logs quickly and creating a lovely source of heat.

“Wow, I didn’t know you were a boy scout.” Momo walked over and nudged you playfully.

Smirking at the comment, you catch yourself before she sees the pleasant reaction from you. Brows furrowing before a monotonous dry “whatever,” leaves your lips.

“I’m going to walk down this trail and see what we are working with…stay with the fire.” before grabbing your backpack with your camera equipment and scurrying away from her.

There was little daylight left but you needed some time away from her, you were going to follow the path so it’s not like you would get lost. You just wanted a breather and to scout the area that you were in for potential spots to get the pictures you needed for this project.

It was astounding to you that she was being so…civil, especially considering the interaction you had with her on campus just a few days earlier. Deep in thought with this, you walk down the path, leaves crunching under your feet.

Some how the deep thoughts turned into you remembering her abs…how chiseled they were…and her arm muscles and the way she carried all that equipment without even breaking a sweat. Unable to remove her from your mind, you were frustrated with yourself.

Of course she was attractive, she always was but you can’t help but see her in a different light now. Not even knowing if she resented you for the past, it seems like she’s willing to let go of whatever grudge she might have been holding onto and that settled your mind more than you anticipated.

The crisp fall air was lovely this time of year, just nice enough to wear a hoodie and some jeans and be comfortable.

Perfect for this adventure, even if it was with Momo…but was Momo who you thought she was?

Rustling behind you startles you, freezing in place as you try to gauge where the sound was coming from. Rotating your back pack, you pull your camera out of it very slowly so whatever was behind you didn’t hear or run away as it might be an opportunity to snag a picture.

The sounds of the twigs snapping behind you was light, nothing that would’ve been a threat to you, thankfully. Quietly turning in place, a deer reveals itself to you from behind the shrubs of the path you had just walked past.

Looking over at you, you stand very very still, not wanting to frighten the deer…thought it was definitely a buck, big points on the antlers that were velvety, typical for this time of year, though you had never seen it yourself.

Lifting your camera to angle the shot properly, you are sure to zoom in on his face and click. Capturing the stillness of him in a millisecond. He hears the camera go off and looks directly at you.

A bit of nervousness shivers through you as you make eye contact with the buck, not too sure about the temperament when they’re in this part of their natural cycle.

Despite this, you take a few more shots of him. He decides you are not a threat and simply carries on his way.

Flipping through the pictures you just took, there is one in particular of him looking directly at you that you fall in love with. Starting to walk back towards camp as the evening turns into night, you reach camp right as the last drop of sun sulks behind the hills.

“Hey, Momo. Look at this.” walking over to where she placed the chairs in front of the fire without looking up from your camera.

Being so proud of this picture, you feel an excitement to show someone who also loves this hobby as much as you do.

“Oh, wow! That’s an amazing picture! Especially with the colors, the balance of them across the screen is fantastic.” Momo looks up at you, catching your eyes in the process and offers a smile.

Smiling back at her for the first time without hesitation, a warm feeling bubbles in your stomach. Quickly realize that maybe she wasn’t so bad after all…but you were still apprehensive on getting close to her.

There is no harm in a little kindness, right?

“While you were gone, I made you some dinner.” Momo turns her attention back to the fire that had a metal grate with four legs placed on top of it that she must have brought with her because it was not in what you packed.

A pan set on top of it, using a utensil she flipped over a piece of meat that she took upon herself to cook for you.

“You…cooked me dinner?” sitting down in the chair next to her before she offers you a fresh plate of veggies and steak with gravy drenching both.

“Well…yeah, I know that we haven’t exactly gotten off on the right foot…so I thought this might be a nice peace offering?” shying away from you as you start to slice the perfectly cooked beef.

“I will say…This is very gourmet for camping.” laughing as you took a bite of what she offered you, it was delicious.

Eyes widened and then close, humming into the mixture of flavors that paired so well. Immediately digging into another bite as soon as you swallow the first.

“Yeah, well I like to eat good food so you have to know how to cook at least a little bit for that to be consistent.” giggling at your reaction to your first bite.

“Peace offering accepted!” shouted while goofily pointing your fork in the air before taking another huge bite.

“I had no idea…” speaking with your mouth full because it’s just that good.

“That you could cook…” chopping down and enjoying the flavors thoroughly.

“Like THIS.” pointing down to the plate and swallowing your second bite.

“I think there might be a lot of things you don’t know about me, Y/n…” softly spoken to you over the chewing of your food and the crackling of the fire.

“You’re probably right…it’s not like she would ever let us get close enough to learn personal stuff about each other…and you did keep to yourself a lot when I was around.” thinking back, it was always weird how Sana kept you to herself.

Sure, you went to parties with her and out to dinner with her and friends, but anytime you struck up a conversation with anyone that wasn’t her, she would interject and try to get your attention.

Being blinded by her love bombing, you didn’t think it was for any reason in particular but you were now realizing that it might have been to keep you separate from those she held close so she could warp the narrative in her favor…

“She told me you broke up with her because you fell in love with someone else.” Momo recalled timidly.

“Sana said that you basically told her to fuck off because you wanted to sleep around and be with other people…she called me crying the night you broke up with her about it.” tensing at the memory, you freeze at the false claim spoken to you bashfully.

Blinking multiple times, you look at Momo in confusion.

“What?” the infliction of your words showed that they were essentially false, but you felt the need to defend yourself.

“That’s not true at all…I told her that I wanted to feel like a priority and not an accessory and if she couldn’t do that then I wanted to end things. She tried to justify the way she treated me but she couldn’t because she knew I wasn’t asking for too much. So I ended things. There wasn’t anyone else involved at all.” a single tear rolls down your cheek, reflecting Momo’s shock at the way you had been painted to her.

All this time, Momo assumed that you were just a shit person, without knowing your side of the story. Why wouldn’t she believe Sana? After all, she was her best friend. There was no reason to question her story until now.

“I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t have assumed that what she said was the truth…” A genuine apology, a nervous one, but real care was placed in those words she gave to you.

“It’s okay…it’s not like you knew what was going on behind the scenes…” reassuring her that you didn’t blame her for reacting the way she did.

“I should’ve known something was up though, especially with the way you reacted to me talking about being angry with you when we first spoke on campus. That’s why I’ve been trying to be nice because I don’t think the person that she described would have reacted that way or said what you did.” Her eyes shift to the ground, seemingly lost in thoughts about the stories that Sana told you about her, a twinkle of something else shined through but she was still too unfamiliar to tell what that was.

“Hey, Momo.” standing up and placing the rest of your food down on the small table between the chairs you both sat in.

“Hi, I’m Y/n” sticking your hand out to offer her a handshake.

Momo giggles and stands with you, placing her hand in yours and shaking it firmly.

“I’m Momo, it’s nice to officially meet the real you.”

“The feeling is mutual. Fresh start?” offered to her to see if maybe there was a friendship that could be built with her.

“Fresh start.”

—

Spending the next few hours taking about life and finding common interests was surprisingly easy for both of you.

Photography and dance were her main passions, she transferred to the college you both attended due to moving over in the area and the photography program.

Telling her about your experience with Sana and why you moved out here, the photography program of course, and to just get away from your home town where everything was tainted with the lavender flavor of Sana.

“Everything reminded me of her, so I left to get away from it all. There was too much history there for me so I decided I wanted a clean slate.” nodding your head and yawning as midnight approached.

“I can understand that.” Momo stands up and starts burning the paper plates you had eaten off of in attempts to clean up a little bit.

“I think it’s about time we head to bed, no? It’s getting late and we should get up early tomorrow and explore.” kicking some dirt into the fire that was dying down to kill it faster as you stood up and stretched.

“It’s cold tonight, I’m glad you drove.” chattered through your teeth while grabbing a lantern and a charger to plug into the car so you could charge your phone.

“Go get comfortable, I’ll be there in a moment.” straightening up the camp site some more as you made your way to the trunk, hanging the lantern by the handle on a hook that was attached to the ceiling for some light.

Momo laid out the sleeping bags in an interesting way, connecting the two via a zipper a the bottom and still allowing them to over lap at the top, creating one queen sized sleeping bag. The big fleece blanket was folded over the top of the connected wind breaker like material to add an extra layer of warmth.

Crawling in, you took off your hoodie, folding it up and using it as a pillow. Laying your head down made your eyes heavy, wrapped in the warmth of the woman-made cocoon. Fighting your eyes to try and stay awake, you wanted to wait for Momo but it seemed the full stomach, the chirping of the crickets, and calmness of the night got to you quickly.

Dozing off for a moment, you sleep softly before the REM cycle hits. The SUV’s suspension gives Momo away no matter how quiet she was trying to be to not disturb you.

Shifting in your spot, you open your eyes halfway to see her crawl under the covers after closing the trunk and locking the car from the inside. She’s brought your camera and hers with her into the car.

“While you were sleeping, I saw a barn owl and got a really cool shot of it. I’ll show you in the morning.” yawning as she finishes her sentence, turning the electric lantern off and you both drift off to sleep.

—

The sun shining through the back window wakes you up, checking your phone- it’s 7:15am and Momo is sound asleep next to you looking peaceful and delicate while she rests.

Admiring her for a moment, you take in her visage and wonder how you could ever assume this person could be anything other than what she showed you she was last night.

Sitting up, you stretch - cracking your back and taking a deep breath in before sneaking the keys away from her silently and opening the trunk to try and slip out without waking her.

Successful in this, you leave the trunk open and make your way to the fire pit to start a fire and make some coffee. Bringing a metal pitcher with you, filling it with two bottles of water and some instant coffee, you let it simmer on the fire and take in the morning air.

It was crisp outside, you wondered if it was going to warm up any today when you remembered what Momo said while you were half asleep last night about the picture she took.

Sneaking over to the car, you grabbed both your camera and hers so you could see the shot of the barn owl that she had taken.

Going back to the seat in front of the fire and turning the camera on, you come across a few shots of the bird in a tree with pitch blackness in the background. The owl being a little over exposed but still a very detailed picture that was worth some praise.

Flipping through, it looks like Momo took a few different shots of this owl from different angles. Hitting the button several times, you find a candid picture of yourself in what seems to be mid-laughter with the fire in front of you.

When did she take this…? Last night while you were talking?

The camera is suddenly snatched out of your hands aggressively. Looking up to see an annoyed Momo plopping down in the chair and glaring at you.

“I never told you that you could look through my pictures. I could’ve had private things on here!” the irritation she was feeling reverberated off every rib in the cage of your chest, worried that you might have just ruined the friendship you just cultivated with her.

“Momo…I didn’t mean to violate your privacy, I’m sorry. I was interested in the photo of the owl…” not mentioning the candid picture she took of you when you weren’t paying attention, not wanting to make the situation worse.

“Please don’t do that again.” pouring herself a cup of coffee and standing up, she starts walking down the trail by herself.

Time for her to get away from you for a moment, just like you took your space yesterday. Not chasing after her, just allowing her to take the time she needed to cool off - no matter how much you wanted to fix things.

While you watch as she walks down the trail and around the bend, your mind wanders back to that picture. The one of you laughing and smiling at her, the way your eyes sparkled…

Physically shaking your head and trying to knock the thoughts out of your brain, you decide to just focus on the nature around you to escape the thoughts of Momo and the picture…even if it was only for a moment.

—

Momo returned within the hour, camera in hand and excitement on her face. Running over to you and crouching down next to the chair you were relaxing in, too thrilled with the contents of her camera for pleasantries.

“LOOK!” shouted with pure enthusiasm as she flips through her camera so you could see the screen.

The picture showed of a leopard sleeping in a tall tree. The shot was perfectly exposed, no over saturation or awkward angles. Just a perfect picture of a very large and very rare cat snoozing on a branch.

“Holy shit!” loudly exclaiming as your eye widened in surprise.

There were less than 100 of those leopards out in the wild and this picture was immaculate.

“Right?!” Momo is bouncing up and down like a child who just got ice cream, shimmying goofily in place and waving her camera above her head in sheer joy.

Admiring her with her guard down, you admitted to yourself that she was more than pleasant to be around - her authentic self was lovely.

“That’s an incredible picture…I think you actually should submit that to national geographic…not even as a joke.” happy that she wasn’t angry at you anymore.

Just being around her when she’s beaming like this was a treat in itself…the warmth returns in your stomach, the bubbling up of something you now recognized but didn’t want to admit.

“You think I should?” Stoping her victory dance and looking to you for some direction in the matter.

“Absolutely! Look at it, I mean they could use this in texts books and so many different things…Momo, you have to submit this. No question.” Looking at the picture of the camera in her hand again, but you could feel her eyes on you.

“But do me a favor…be careful, please. I know you can probably fend for yourself but there are very dangerous animals around here and I don’t want you to get hurt…okay?” Gently spoken to her with care that had never threaded your words before.

Looking up, your eyes lock - there’s a bit of tension but it wasn’t the resentful tension that previously laid between the two of you a few days prior.

This was very different.

Momo’s eyes soften, half lidded in the way that she held your gaze.

Heart thumping in your chest when you realize what the tension is - this has sparked some panic in you.

Feeling the tips of your fingers quiver, you break the eye contact and kick the fire out. Grabbing your own camera that hung off the side of your chair, you walk up to Momo and smile.

“Well, we’ve got another full day here, why not explore a little together?” cocking an eyebrow at her before starting off down the trail with great haste, trying to out run the sparkling shiny feelings that would soon catch up to you.

“I think there’s a river up north a ways, why don’t we go see what we can find over there?” looking back to see her hurrying after you, blushing as she catches up.

There’s something here…you both feel it, right?

—

After walking and snapping pictures of the different flora in the area, you finally found what you had been looking for. 30 minutes of beautiful nature down the trail to find a crystal clear, calm river and the bridge that went over it where the trail continued on.

You and Momo walk down to the edge of the bank, looking over the water to see the fish swimming around along with a few otters underneath the bridge, holding hands to not get separated.

Nudging Momo with your elbow, she looks up at you in confusion. Putting your finger to your lips to keep her from speaking too loudly, you point over at the otters that were heading towards you - floating down stream lazily together, fast asleep.

Both of you grabbing your cameras, you snap pictures together. Both getting different angles and then making whisper suggestions to the other, ensuring not to wake up the sleeping water puppies - but then you get an idea.

“Hold this a second” hushed toned, handing her your camera before removing your shoes and socks.

Stripping your pants and shirt off so you’re just in your underwear, you take a step into the water and shiver for a moment.

Momo is beat red, trying not to look you up and down as you snatch your camera back from her and wade into the cold water to get a closer look at the otters and get a better shot of them.

Flush red, speechless, and completely taken off guard would be a very mild way to put what was currently happening to Momo. Her jaw was on the floor, her hands were sweating and she was shaking to take pictures of the otters from the bank.

Turning around and giggling at her, you wave to her to get her to come into the water with you. Waist deep and already snapping shot, she joins you in her sports bra and underwear, sheepishly.

“Don’t be so shy.” whispered to herself as she tries to get a clean shot of the otters, you find this to be adorable.

Unaware that you heard her, you look at her and realize that maybe that’s what the tension was. Maybe she just found you attractive and was unsure how to express it. Maybe it’s because you were Sana’s ex…maybe she didn’t want to cross boundaries… or maybe she didn’t care what you used to be and only really cared about who you are now.

But were you bold enough to make a move?

Was she bold enough for that? Seems like she might need a little encouragement.

That’s the question you asked yourself when your eyes lifted from your camera and you saw what could potentially be the scariest thing you have ever seen.

A massive black bear.

Not just any black bear though, a mama bear and her two cubs - seemingly having the same idea that you had.

Taking a dip on a nice day.

Stepping back slowly, you don’t think that they had seen you yet. Grabbing Momo’s arm you pull her, trying to get her to move without causing a panic.

“One second, I think I’m getting close to the shot I want.” whispered at you, completely oblivious to what was going on around the two of you.

“Momo, there isn’t time…take a step back. Now.” sternly breathed back to her.

“What are you tal- oh shit.” finally realizing the danger you both were in as she followed your movements backwards cautiously, without arguing further.

Slowly getting out of the water and making as little sound as possible, you grabbed your shoes and clothes, not bothering to put them on and crept back to the trail.

Momo slipped her pants and shoes back on while you snuck over to the bridge to see what the bears were doing and if they caught on to the fact that you were so close to them.

The cubs were playing around and splashing in the water and it looks like mama bear was just wading in the shallows, looking for some food - no doubt.

Utilizing the camera, you zoom into the cubs, framing them as best you could and snap a few pictures of them playing.

“They’re so cute.” coming from behind you, startling you.

Turning around to face the voice, you watch as she stands next to you. That’s when you fully realize how stunning Momo actually is.

The water that soaked her bra was dripping down her stomach, following the curves of her abs in a way that made you swallow every rude moment you ever said to her, the guilt weighing heavy in your stomach.

Momo was too distracted by the bears to even notice you gawking at her, so you took a step back and slipped your clothes on again, leaving your shirt off to try and dry out your bra.

She leans against the wood of the bridge with her head resting in her palm, admiring the cubs playful demeanor and sighing at the cuteness that they displayed, splashing around without a care in the world while mom kept watch.

Pointing your camera at her, you took a photo.

One single photo.

You’d argue it was the most perfect one.

“Are you ready to head back to camp?” inquired without looking in your direction, still looking in adoration at the creatures dancing in the water.

“I’d say so. I think we have all the pictures we need for the project too…so we could leave tonight if you want…” even with the suggestion, you could feel the knot of regret in your stomach.

Not really wanting to leave, you were enjoying this time with her - even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, let alone her.

“No, we should stay. You did pay for the two nights so we might as well use them! Plus, who knows what else we can see while we are here.” looking to you and offering a soft smile.

On the way back to camp, you are lost in your thoughts. Trying to organize your brain about this situation you find yourself in. Your ex girlfriends best friend…who you’re spending time with and actually enjoying spending time with…who can cook and likes to take pictures…who is adventurous…and also wildly attractive…

Oh boy.

It snaps into your mind like a rubber band shot across the room, a flash of lightening igniting your entire nervous system into flames and disintegrating you into a complete pile of chemically compounded dust.

You like her.

You romantically like her.

“Well, shit.” unintentionally out loud for the entire forest to hear, Momo included.

“Is everything okay?” stopping in her tracks and checking in with you.

“Yes, yes. Everything is fine. I was just lost in thought.” trying to avoid the conversation entirely as you weren’t really sure if you were ready to tell her your new intel about this crush you now have on her.

“Are you sure? I’m here for you…if you want me to be.” turning to face you and placing her hand on your upper arm.

Swooning was an understatement.

Her touch was like that of a thousand suns burning your skin all at once, the warmth, the care and the undivided attention of her left you wondering what it would’ve been like if you actually got the chance to get to know her before Sana.

If you would’ve dated, or had more positive interactions.

If her judgement of you wouldn’t have been warped by someone else’s lies.

“Thanks Momo…that means a lot coming from you.”

She offers a smile and you both continue walking back to camp with you still completely lost in the “What ifs”

—

This night was similar to the last, Momo made dinner again, similar to the night before but with a little twist. You broke out a bottle of tequila and some pineapple juice you had tucked away and you drank with her and shared some of your fondest memories from your childhood.

She shared with you the asperations of her life, how she wanted to be a professional photographer and that she actually would prefer to shoot models and fashion but really enjoyed the photography you guys did together on the trip.

The drinks were working on you, loosening you up and making you more carefree. Allowing her to know the real you was not as tough are you thought, thank you tequila.

Building up the courage, you finally ask her a question that had been burning on your mind since you saw the proof this morning.

“Hey, Momo? Can I ask you something?” apprehensive even with the alcohol in your system.

“Of course, you can ask me anything.” taking a swig of her drink and a bite of the meal she made for the two of you.

“Why did you take that picture of me last night?”

Momo freezes, it was very obvious that she was not expecting that to be the question you were going to ask.

Taking another big swig of her drink, polishing the glass off before looking at you and placing her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together - she took a deep breath and what came next, shocked you.

“Do you want the truth?” voice shaky while she builds up her courage.

Unable to help but admire how adorable she is when she’s nervous, you try to break the tension she’s holding within herself.

“Lie to me.” laughing as you say it.

Momo cracks a smile and then takes one more deep breath.

“I’ve had a crush on you since before you and Sana dated.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I saw you in the halls at school and thought you were so beautiful…I stupidly pointed that out to her and she decided to go after you. That’s why she never let us get close…that’s also why her and I are no longer close…” exhaling after the sentence to relieve the stress.

Everything now makes sense, the dinner, the way she made the bed in the trunk, the making sure she spent time with you on this project and the most important thing being that comment she made about her anger…she was never angry at you, only angry at the situation and the judgement you placed on her because of Sana.

“…I had no idea…I thought you hated me because of what happened between Sana and I…I didn’t realize…”

“I know you didn’t…but don’t beat yourself up about it…It’s not like she told you and it’s also not like I told you either.” There was a comforting shift in her voice, no longer shaking as she tried to sooth you for the information you hadn’t previously had.

Grabbing your camera that was hanging on the side of your chair, you turned it on quickly and went to the gallery, finding that picture you took of her and passing her the camera.

Momo’s jaw dropped, staring at the picture and realizing when you took it.

“Can I tell you something?” offered to her in exchange for the vulnerability shared to you previous.

“Of course,” another deep breath as she braces for the truth.

“Remember when I said “well, shit” earlier?”

Her eyes perk up.

“Yeah?”

“It’s because I realized that I like you…”

Even you’re shocked by what just came out of your mouth.

Did you really just admit that?

“…really?” inquired in the smallest voice, never thinking Momo could sound so timid, despite seeing some moments of it previously.

“Yes…once I lost the image that Sana put in my head of you, and stopped assuming you would be like her…Once I really got to know parts of you, I realized that I wanted to learn more and more about you.” shying away from her gaze on you as you carried on with your statement.

“I…don’t know what to do with myself.” Momo blurted out between nervous glances at you.

She’s so cute like this, you really can’t help yourself.

Standing up and taking a big step so you were in front of her you reach down to cup her face. Leaning in, you taste the drink you made for her off her lips.

Drunk from alcohol or Momo’s soft lips against yours, you were not sure but you were feeling dizzy at the touch of her mouth on yours. Soft pecks that were laced in sweet subtle movements and the pinning for more of her in everyway, already addicted to the feeling of her skin on yours.

Breaking apart from the kiss, you watch her lick her lips and that releases something within you that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Yearning, wasn’t the word.

It was a violent want.

An aggressive need.

Though you both had been drinking, would it be a silly idea to see if she was interested in pushing this way past a kiss?

Maybe it was better to wait?

“If you kiss me like that again…there might be an issue.” Momo finally speaks up between your inner monologue, standing up and getting so close to your face that your noses touch.

“Oh yeah? How so, Ms. Hirai?” poking a little fun at her, giggling as she wraps her arms around you, and leans into you.

“Maybe I’ll show you on a night where we haven’t been drinking.” whispered in a sultry tone into your ear making you melt in every single way possible.

“Fine!” scrunching your nose in protest and stomping off playfully back to your seat.

Momo chuckles and follows you, sitting on your lap like it’s always been her seat and resting her body against yours.

“I’m getting sleepy, the anxiety of today was a lot.” yawning in confirmation that it was a shared tired.

“Why don’t you go and get comfortable? I’ll take care of everything out here.”

“Let me help.” in a half asleep argument.

“No, go get cozy! It’s cold so you have to warm up the sleeping bag.” rubbing her back gently to further her sleepiness.

Mindlessly getting up, she starts walking over to the trunk and strips her shirt off on the way. You’re, of course, watching her as she walks. She reaches behind her and unclips her bra, exposing her bare back to you.

Turning her head back to you and winking before crawling into the trunk.

This brings a need to do everything as hastily as possible so you can go a lay down with her, wondering if you would be able to even sleep next to her now that she was completely bare from the waist up.

Kicking dirt over the fire to put it out, you notice the sheer coldness that had crept in while you were sitting next to the blaze.

Scanning the site to make sure everything was put away well enough to go to sleep, you grab the keys and the cameras before heading to the trunk where Momo was laying under the covers with the lantern on and shivering.

“I-it’s s-so c-c-cold!” Teeth chattering as she watches you crawl in and close the door.

Slipping the cameras and keys into the front seat, you take off your shirt and crawl under the covers with her, flicking the light off and getting comfortable.

“Come here.” Pulling her closer to you so your body heat would help warm the two of you up.

Scooting into her, she rolled over and lay her head against your chest. The sting of her iced touch lingers for a moment before you feel her thawing out. Running your hand over her back a few times to try to conduct friction to bring her temperature up faster so she can be more comfortable.

Very quick to realize she still wasn't wearing a shirt, you tugged the sleeping bag over her shoulders as well as the fleece blanket to trap the heat, and to save yourself from the tipsy mindset of wanting more than just a kiss.

“Did you just cover my shoulders more?” Laughing into your chest as she realized what you did.

“I’m simply preserving your warmth, Momo!” Kicked back to her but she already knew you were lying.

Heart beating a million miles a minute as her chest was pressed against your stomach, feeling her nipple against your skin and her fingers tracing lightly on your back sent you into a spiral of trying not to go completely feral.

Laying with each other in the back of Momo’s SUV was not something that you thought would ever happen, but you’re very very glad it was happening.

Leaning down, you kiss the top of her head and try to pull her ever closer.

“Feeling warmer?” cooed to her.

“Yes, now I’m cozy.” Nuzzling into you and holding you tighter.

“Good”

Momo tilts her head back and extend her lips out to you, asking for a good night kiss to seal the deal on everything that had happened in the past few hours.

You quickly comply and play with her hair as she falls asleep in your arms.

—

Birds chirping loudly in the trees nearby tug you out of your dreams and into the Sunday morning that was upon you.

Rolling over you notice that the trunk is open and you can smell the campfire going.

Momo is awake already.

Sitting up and stretching your arms out, you rub your eyes before scooting out of the cabin and letting your feet hang outside the trunk, sitting up while you take in the autumn morning.

“Good Morning, sunshine.” Momo walks over with a cup of coffee and a smile, offering you the cup and kissing your cheeks.

Taking a sip of the warmth in a mug, you notice that Momo is wearing your shirt.

“Cute shirt, where’d you get it?” Pointing at it before sipping the coffee again.

“Oh you know, this girl I have a major crush on…I stole it from her. But don’t tell her! It’s a secret.” Lifting her finger up to shush you lightheartedly.

“Is this girl your girlfriend? Should I tell her that we kissed? She won’t be happy about that!” Winking at her and matching her silliness.

“She is not my girlfriend, but she should be…Maybe I should take it off then? So she doesn’t get jealous?” Lifting the hem of her shirt up slowly over her stomach before tugging up and taking it off, revealing her breasts to you with barely any warning.

Stunned at the sight you have practically woken up to, you scan her up and down and watch as she brings herself closer to you, placing one hand on each of you knee and spreading them apart so she can get in between them.

“We are sober now…” kissing your cheeks before lifting your face to meet hers.

“No one’s around, I haven’t seen anyone drive by since we’ve been here…” another kiss, this one on the lips and deeper than any one you had shared before.

Hands finding their way to her waist as you pull her closer to you, trying to fill in the space between your bodies as any space between you was too much.

Tongues starting to dance with each other as things picked up, Momo reaches behind you, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the front of the car.

Guiding you onto your back by pushing your shoulders, she ushers you up and gets you to scoot inside farther so she could have more space to crawl on top of you.

“I’ve waited for this…” a kiss to your neck renders you incapable of focusing on anything but her.

“…For so fucking long…” dragging her mouth down to your chest and a tongue flick to your nipple make you arch your back and whine softly, hand trailing up and gripping her hair as she descends the length of your body.

“…and I will have you…” kissing down your stomach and to the waistline of the shorts you wore, tugging on them, removing your underwear with them, and placing them to the side.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” Dragging her mouth down your hips, grazing her teeth against your skin so gently but it ignites the hostile craving that was put on the back burner last night.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be in this position with Hirai Momo but here you were with her now wrapping her arms around your thighs and laying gentle soft pecks down until finally her tongue swipes your slit causing a jolt from your hips and a guttural moan from your lungs.

“So what do you say, baby? You gonna be good for me and let me eat my breakfast in peace?” Seductively before another tender lick from your entrance to your clit renders you in capable of formulating any words other from “fuck” and “yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Momo kept her tongue against you, writing unspoken poems of the care and attraction she had for you for all these years against the most sensitive parts of you, taking her time and making sure to lick every single drop of slick off your folds.

Though she was slow in her movements, every ounce of pleasure she gave you was so divine and delicious, it left you yearning and pinning for more like you had finally quenched your thirst after years without a single drink.

Unable to keep still underneath her as she spells out how much she’s wanted this with her mouth, you mewl and whine for her, thrusting your lower body up while your hands wandered to the back of her head in attempts to pull her closer to you.

A finger teases your entrance, dipping the first knuckle of her pointer finger inside of you causing you to rock your hips softly, showing her exactly what she was looking for.

“You want my fingers inside you, don’t you?” Only removing her mouth for a second to tease you with the thought.

Only being able to hum in agreeance, you try to say yes with thrusting your hips down. She brings her left arm up and across your pelvis, pinning you done into place to keep you still.

“Beg.” stern in tone but somehow still drenched in need for you as she removes her finger and waits.

“Momo, *please.* I *need* to feel you insi-”

Before you could even finish the sentence, her fingers spread your folds apart and her tongue dips into you.

One.

Two.

Three times, before returning back to gradually circling your clit, her lips visibly coated in your essence and her eyes hungry for more.

Bringing her finger back to where you wanted it, she slowly glides it inside of you and presses up against your G-spot while gently building up the pace of her tongue around your most sensitive area.

“*Momo… oh, fuck..uhngh”* moaning for her and only for her, you would be happy to exist in this context for as long as possible but you need and wanted more.

Leaning up on your elbows, she sees you look at her and makes half lidded eye contact with you while her tongue does all the talking. Allowing her to taste you for a moment longer before you slip a hand under her chin and detach her mouth from you.

Momo reaches over to her camera without removing her finger from inside you. Turning it on with one hand and angling herself for the perfect shot, her thumb graces over you lightly, causing you to squirm.

“Is this okay?” Before focusing the camera on your body.

Nodding your head, you spread your legs wider for her so she can get the full image of how your body reacts to her.

A few clicks and she turns her camera off, placing it back where it was on the bed and tries to lean back into you.

You had other plans.

Taking her finger out of you, she has the look of confusion on her face. Lifting her finger up to your mouth, you suck your own slick off of it and pull her fully into the trunk.

“Close the door.” quietly and seductively, you hand other plans for her.

Already so weak for you that she immediately does what she’s told, you smile and cock an eyebrow at her, wondering how far you could get her to go with such requests.

“Take your pants off.” orders given and followed, she strips her pants off quickly, leaving her in a black thong.

Watching and she tugs on her black stringed waist band, you can see a string of her slick attached to the fabric and she removes it.

Clenching at the sight of her being just as aroused as you, you’re quick to maneuver yourself to sit on her thighs and wrap your legs around her.

Dripping onto her legs from how badly you want her, she smirks at you before her hand descends and returns to your pussy, thrusting two fingers in this time and pressing upwards.

Hissing out of pure pleasure, you drape one arm around her neck and the other slips between her legs so you can rub her clit while she’s inside you.

Eye contact between your mutual grunts of pleasure rattle the car windows, feeling the suspensions bouncing and help you with the rocking of your own hips, you bring your face so close to hers - noses touching and rubbing against each other before you bring your hand to the back of her head and pull her into you for an open mouthed kiss.

Being able to taste yourself off her tongue sent you reeling, moaning into her mouth while her free hand trails up your sides and slithers over to your stomach before ascending up to your neck, wrapping her fingers around your throat and gripping it tightly.

“Such a slut for me…” growling into your mouth as you gasp against her lips.

“Look how fucking wet you got when I started choking you…would you drip this way if I tied your hands behind your back too?”

*Oh fuck.*

Her fingers are moving faster now, palm against your clit as you buck your hips into her creating a mess of her entire hand and her legs beneath you.

Barely even cognoscente from the knot rapidly building in your stomach, you slip two fingers into her and begin giving her the same speed and pressure she was giving to you.

Momo’s moans did you under, the gratification of her losing her “mean domme” demeanor by your touch was enough to put you right at the edge.

All you needed was a little push.

Clenching around her fingers, moaning into her with your fingers tangle in her hair and soaked from her pussy - you whimper at her and she knows.

“Is my good girl going to- *fuck, baby -*cum for me?” fingers picking up momentum when she feels her own climax creeping up on her.

Nodding your head before placing your face into her neck and biting down hard as you release all the tension that had built up in the few days that you spent with her, coming completely undone around her fingers.

The bite from you has her blissed out while your fingers piston haphazardly inside her, you clenching around her fingers and moaning into her causes Momo’s own ecstasy to drown her in a paradise that she had never felt before.

Both of you riding out your own orgasms on each other’s fingers, thrusting your hips into each other and causing the car to rock back and forth rhythmically.

Both of you slowing down your movements and sharing a few soft pecks, she lays down flat on her back with you on top of her - both of you panting and gasping for air.

Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, she kisses you again before removing her fingers from you and slipping her pants back on but remaining shirtless while you just held each other for a while and enjoyed the moment.

“So…what happens when we get back?” there’s fear in Momo’s voice when the question slips between her teeth.

“What do you mean?” brows furrowed like you weren’t naked in the back of her SUV after having fucked in the middle of no where.

“I mean…I don’t know, are you looking for something with this?” voice shaking and reminding you of earlier, the nervousness of rejection is very loud in her.

“I mean…are you?”

“With you, yes.” no hesitation on her end at all.

Smiling at her, you sit up and tug her with you.

“Momo…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Oh…I uhm….yes.”

Tackling her to the floor and peppering her face with kisses - you didn’t even need to think about what you wanted - her.

Giggling at your actions, you both sigh and just lay with each other for another moment.

“Not to break this lovely moment we are having, but what time is check out?” sitting up and throwing your shirt on to cover up, leaning down to kiss your cheek before opening the door.

“Uhm….noon, I think?” rolling over and grabbing the hoodie you had been using as a pillow and tossing it on before slipping your own bottoms back on.

“Okay, I’ll start packing up.” grabbing the stuff she brought to cook with and packing it away in the bag she must have brought them in.

“Hey Momo?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you…want to stay the night at my house tonight?” eyes shifting as you ask from sheer nervousness.

Already having spent so much time together this weekend, you weren’t really ready to separate just yet. You truly hoped she would share that sentiment.

Momo places the bag of cooking equipment into the truck, walks over to you and faces you. Grabbing your hands and raising them up to kiss your knuckles and then your lips and smiles.

“I would love to…plus I want to know what happened between Tzuyu and Chaeyoung this weekend, Chae’s got the biggest crush on her so hopefully it went well.”

“No way…Tzuyu has been crushing on Chae the entire year!” exclaimed as you started gathering the chairs and moving the left over wood to the back of the campsite for another camper to use when they arrived.

“Seriously?!” gasped at the statement you just made.

“Yes!”

“Well we better pick up a bottle of wine before we get back to your house then!” grabbing the bag of trash you had compiled over the weekend and bringing it to the SUV so you could dispose of it before leaving.

Hopping in the car after packing everything up, you start the drive home with your new girlfriend, hand in hand. The two hour ride felt like 10 minutes, just talking about life and classes, the project and how you both wanted to set everything up for it.

Looking over at her as she pulls into your complex, you realize how excited you are about this new phase of life you’re about to embark on, with her intertwined in all aspects.

Who knew that this unexpected weekend would turn out to be something so absolutely pleasant.

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