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satorena · 5 days

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( P*SSY GOT ) P☆WER !?

bad ☆ summary. converting a loser into a munch wasn’t on your yearly bingo card ( or was it ? )

content ★ warnings. explicit content. mdni. foul language. situationship!gojo. college au. cunningulus. frōtting. premature ejaculātion. fīngering. eventual smut. gojo pines for like 99% of the fic. he also studies in pornology. reader is kinda bratty. mention of death lightheartedly. a lot of italicized words. lowkey gojo centric? 6.4k words (bye).

rena’s ☆ note. SATORENA COMEBACK … sorta (・・?)

“gimme a kiss.”

your face scrunches before the words can express your distaste. with your hand on the handle of his car’s door, your fingers tighten around the metal bar, half tempted to leave the man at your left— rosy lips puckered into an obnoxious smooch.

his eyelids are shut tight as his brows furrow to the centre of his forehead, face leaned in. you chuckle at his theatrics, lifting your free hand to press your digits at his pucker. his eyelids open as his brows now loosen, “gojo, bye.”

you feel his hands wrap around your wrist, gently lifting your hand off his mouth, though your fingers hover over his lips still, “girl.” he tilts his head to the side, emitting an aura of sass you’ve yet to understand, “it’s satoru to you— i can’t even have a little one? haven’t i been good all day?”

you click your tongue, “you been runnin’ your mouth all day long actually,” and before your mind can even process your following words, you focus on the way his plump lips fall into another one of his childish pouts. cute. however he chooses to take your invitation is all up to him. your eyes dart to the rosy flesh as you hum, “mhm, if only you ate pussy as good as you talk shit.”

you feel the hold on your wrist drop, as his frown switches to a blank stare. you cock a brow, watching as the hand his steering wheel tightens.

he gulps, eyes narrowing before glancing over to the leather wheel, “i, uh, don’t eat pussy.”

oh. . . oh.

the slam of the car door speaks the rest for you.

“woah— hey!” gojo yells after you, though your figure seems to get smaller with the steps you take. in your hold is your purse, bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier and house keys. “baby, hold on— this damn window,” he cusses, removing the barrier between you and him angrily. you hadn’t even hesitated to exit the car, as if he’d said the world’s most vile comment.

you’re not listening, and for some reason gojo feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. what the fuck had he said that made you all upset with him?

he watches helplessly as you insert your key into the hole. the chiming sounds of your keys serve as a reminder that he was definitely in trouble. that and he wasn’t getting his damn goodbye kiss.

he sighs instead, albeit defeatedly. “am i at least gonna see you soon?”

the front door opens and you look back over your shoulder, and god— he really thought he had it. his lips threaten to pull into a smile, ready for your little mood to be over with.

you grin and as does he. you even give him a cute wave, thank fuck, “have yourself a nice life, baby.”

and the front door closes. damn.

☆ ☆

“you said what?!”

gojo groans into the phone, sprawling himself on his king sized mattress that suddenly feels way to big for him alone. where were you when he needed you? oh that’s right, “she ghosted me! i’m blocked on all socials— can you believe that?”

he tried reaching out to you through texts to make sure you were feeling okay, but the shade of green told him everything he needed to know— especially as an apple user. he then proceeded to go through your social media, to double check his suspicions and there it was, user not found.

“uh, duh?” geto is as judgemental as ever, and gojo doesn’t try to suppress the roll of his eyes. “bro, you just told the girl you’re talkin’ to that you don’t give head. the fuck d’you think was gonna happen?”

“it’s not even a big deal!” he argues because his pride in on the line, and he ignores the groan geto gives him across the phone. rude. his fingers pinch at the top of his nose bridge, “was it really necessary to block me? literally just tell me to kill myself at this point.”

“pretty sure that’s what she blocked you for.” geto snickers, and gojo realizes he’s lucky they aren’t in person because he would have blocked him. instead he whines, pressing the speaker button before stuffing his face in his pillow. he’s probably insane but he swears there’s a hint of your scent there, and now he’s whining louder.

“quit bitchin’. you brought this upon yourself,” and out of spite, gojo whines louder. if his legs kick against his mattress childishly, it’s nobody’s business but his own. the love of his life just walked out of his life— give him a break. “and dude, no shade but do you really not eat pussy? are you gay or somethin’?”

“i am not—” he cuts himself off once the sound of his own voice echoes loudly in his lonely room. geto winces and gojo bites down on his tongue before sighing. “i’m not gay. i love women only. seriously. how does not eating pussy make me gay?”

the line goes quiet, and gojo can tell geto’s making that face he makes whenever he’s finding the right words to say without offending gojo. it ticks him off. “alright, lemme counter that question with one of my own. why don’t you eat pussy?”

gojo pauses. he tightens his fingers around his pillow as the question ponders. he thinks about having received head in the back of his car once, the other time in the bathroom of some frat party, and another in some girl’s bedroom. from all memories, he draws a similar conclusion— they always come onto him first.

“i dunno.” his lips fall into a pout, tracing patterns into his pillowcase with his index. “they never really ask, so i never bothered. that can’t be weird, right? all of my hookups have consisted of them pulling my pants down. why would i refuse? i get my nut and that’s that.”

and because geto is genuinely never on his side, “satoru . . . eugh.” some kind of best friend is he.

“what?!” he hisses in retaliation, glaring at his phone as if it would solve his issues. there’s nothing he hates more than feeling judged. “you fucking asked!”

“calm the fuck down,” he hears geto rolling his eyes. the white haired man huffs, the blow of air pushing his bangs up before they fall back down. okay, maybe he should calm down. whatever. “so essentially what you’re saying is you’ve never been put in a position where you could eat pussy?”

something like that, “sure.” gojo nods, and he doesn’t understand why geto sighs.

“why do i even bother?” though the answer is clear, he’s pretty sure geto was talking to himself. gojo clicks his tongue, ready to bark back but geto beats him to it. “so tell her just that— it’s not that you won’t give head, it’s just that you haven’t given head. which still blows me, but whatever.”

“how? remember she blocked me on everything?” the thought makes gojo whine again, throwing his limbs all over his bed. he hits his phone, then opts to grab it. “is that not entitlement? i have to bend my back all over the damn place just to get her to talk to me again?”

“satoru, you’ve literally done the same thing. don’t act like you’re above it,” geto chuckles and gojo hears shuffling in the background. the ravenette sighs in relief, and he assumes he’s now in his own bed. “besides, you fuckin’ love women who give you challenges.”

and fuck, he’s really not wrong. “yeahhh, you know me so well.” he wipes a fake tear from his eye. he rolls over onto his back, “welp, i’m gonna log into your insta to stalk her account. i miss her so much i’m literally gonna die.”

“satoru.” geto warns him, but gojo is quicker than that. he’s already typing your name into the search bar, username memorized as if it were his cellphone number.“i swear to god if you accidentally like her shit—”

“thanks bestie, love ya lots!” and he hangs up the phone. and with a shit eating grin, he giggles, “time to start lurking.”

☆ ☆

so it’s been months (read: four days) since he last seen you. he’s thankful you’re at least in two of his courses, so he has some sort of opportunity to reach you. he’d spent the last months (hours) stalking your page, viewing your stories to see if there’d been any indicator that you missed him as badly as he missed you.

and all he’s gotten so far is that you spent friday out to dinner (with him) (it was just a mirror pic of your outfit but an outfit you wore on a date with him) (you love him so bad), you had a girls’ night on saturday with shoko and utahime (he barely registered they were in the selfie) and sunday was a study sesh you had at the cafe across the college. he had to screenshot and zoom in to ensure there were no signs of living souls in the same booth as you.

he was still in the clear. whew.

and so monday morning falls, and he’s actually rushing to get to class for once (late but as expected). the one of two classes he shares with you. he hopes he’ll find you sitting in your habitual seat, not too far up close yet not too far back, and he might pull the fire alarm if he spots anybody next to you.

he’s a man on a mission— he’s going to talk to you today. he needs to be back in your good graces. there were many things he wanted to yap to you about, many places he thought of taking you over the weekend, many moments he wanted your soft lips back on his and your gentle hand back in his own.

he misses you, damn it.

there you sit, in all your glory, shining so bright in the middle of this depressing ass psychology course in the early hours of the butt fuck morning. he sees you twirling your pen in between your fingers, your cheek leaned into the palm of your hand— and nobody by your side.

if he rushes and trips over his feet momentarily to get to you in time, it’s nobody’s business but his own (and the girl who’s backpack laid useless on the floor. hazard much.)

he so much as plops into the seat as he does actually sit in it, and he watches as you jerk in surprise. though, the look of surprise is quickly replaced by aloofness. you feel different— not entirely closed off but not as welcoming as you usually are. you’re probably still done with him.

well it’s too damn bad he’s not done with you, “good morning, princess.”

you blink at him, before nodding your head curtly. “morning, gojo.” and you turn your focus back onto the professor. just like that, you shut down another conversation.

he doesn’t like that, and so he pokes at your side and chews at his strawberry gum. “you blocked me on everything.”

“i did.” you answer shortly, though your eyes never leave the professor. he cannot be that interesting, who actually gives a fuck about cognitive dissonance?

“seen this new bakery shop down the street.” he tries again. “wanted to take you but that was impossible because somebody blocked me.”

“i mean, you know where i live.” you shrug, writing whatever the fuck the professor had mentioned in your notebook. wait, what? you turn your head to see him gaping at you in confusion, and you smirk at his silence.

“cat got your tongue?” you quip, amused by his stillness. your eyes sparkle mischievously, though your smile isn’t entirely full. don’t tell him, you’ve been— “too bad it’s not mine, though.”

ohhh, you cheeky brat.

“so. . . you were never really mad at me?” gojo blinks, his mind running miles a second. nothing was adding up, he was positively certain you were cutting ties with him. “this whole time. you weren’t mad about the pussy eating comment?”

“don’t get it twisted,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. you lift a finger in the air before pointing at him, “you,” and then pointing at yourself “and i are done. we can still be cool but i’m not wasting my time with no bitch—respectfully.”

“so you are mad?” he asks again, disregarding the bitch comment. he knows what he’s supposed to say— to clarify the situation, to make it known that it’s not like he’s repulsed by the idea of giving head— but you make it so hard to stay on track when you’re acting defiant.

suguru was right— he does love a challenge.

“mad?” you giggle, and gojo leans back in his seat. damn, you’re confusing. stone cold one minute but all giggly the next. it’s cool, he’ll figure you out. “i ain’t trippin’ baby— if you don’t wanna eat it then don’t. another man definitely will.”

huh, “oh?” his eyes narrow just slightly, though the smirk on his lips never falter. he ignores the way his stomach just dropped to his ass at your implication— there is no way in hell is he letting another man have you. not when he’s still alive and breathing. “if you think i’m letting that happen, you’ve got another thing comin’.”

“everything seems to be coming but me,” you bat your lashes, and damn he fell right into that one. you drop your pen down, giving him one last smile before redirecting your focus to the professor before you. “the real question is what do you plan on doing ‘bout that?”

you give him no time to respond, and it’s not like he thinks he would be able to, as you begin to pack your belongings into your tote bag. you’re leaving and he barely got to say what he’d been memorizing all weekend. oh well, at least he now knows you haven’t entirely cut him off.

if he doesn’t knows better, it feels like you want him to chase after you.

god, he thinks he’s in love.

☆ ☆

gojo satoru is amazing at everything. there truly isn’t something he can do that won’t come out spectacular. he’s gifted, that he knows much, and it’s difficult to stay humble when he’s constantly reminded of so.

“i can easily do this shit.” he mumbles to himself, cerulean eyes narrowing into focus at the bright lit screen of his ipad. his airpods are in, and he’s gonna be completely honest— the pornstar’s screaming is starting to get on his nerve. however, he’s always been an exceptional student and when it’s time to lock in, it’s time to lock in.

his legs feel as though they’ve fallen asleep in the criss-cross position he’s been sat in on his bed for the past two hours. irrelevant, he decides as he picks at his bottom lip with his fingers. his device is running hot with how long it’s been since it last caught a break, but he had bigger issues to worry about. so, basically all he has to do is spread open her lips and go to town until she squirts? sounds simple enough.

he watches as the guy begins motorboating into the girl’s pussy and— “damn, that looks like it hurts.” a grimace creeps onto his face as the guy repeatedly goes ham on swollen red lips. he’s got half a mind telling him that the moans the girl’s letting out are entirely out of agony and not pleasure.

“aaaalrighty,” gojo speaks up, though to himself. “next video, that shit was ass. pussy hurts just thinkin’ bout it, eugh.”

he finds an amateur video, and the thumbnail seemed intimate enough. after an agonizing ad of ‘want a quick break from the ads?’, the video begins. the upper half of the woman’s body is cut out of frame, but she’s laid onto her side, her backside in view. her top leg lifted just slightly, the man lays on his stomach and spreads them apart further and begins to lick.

he dives his tongue inside her cunt, not too sloppy, and gently works his way in. his thumb is caressing at her puckered forbidden zone, always gently, as his tongue glides up and down her labia.

gojo gulps. the girl makes soft sounds, hand coming down to play her the man’s hair, and he proceeds eat her out skillfully. her back arches, she whines and begs for more, and he never loses control. at some point, the hand that focused on her asshole moves up to grip at her cheeks, thus spreading her pussy lips further. she’s already wet from a mixture of fluids, and the sound it creates is so damn obscene.

gojo gulps again, and his sweats feel tight.

before his mind can even allow it, he’s thinking of you. he thinks of you on your side, legs spread open for his disposition as he brings you this same pleasure. as he lays himself on his stomach, munching at your pussy in ways that’ll have you squirming all over his bed, squeezing your plush thighs around his head and begging for him to give you more.

he thinks of how good you’d smell— how good you’d taste. he thinks of how nice you smell whenever you wrap your arms around his neck and he follows suit around your waist. he thinks of how sweet your lips taste when you’re straddling his thighs and slipping your tongue in his mouth.

pheromones are a crazy thing. your scent lingering in his car alone drives him insane. he’s so prone to boners around you, it’s like he’s a dog you’ve trained.

and now he’s thinking he wants you in this very bed at this very instance, ipad be damned, pussy spread open so he can feast. so he can relish the sounds you make as you call out his name, enamoured by the way his tongue would flick at your clit and break open that dam of water right onto his face.

“shit.” he chucks his ipad onto the floor, cradling his head into the palms of his hands. how had he not ever wanted to do this before?

☆ ☆

he doesn’t expect you to pick up. it’s far past two in the morning on a thursday night, and he’s missing you. badly. he misses you and your sweet smile. he misses you and your smart mouth. he misses you and the way your lips move so fluidly against his own, as if they were made for one another.

he really doesn’t expect you to pick up.

it’s around the fifth ring that he hears your honeyed voice, “hi.” his eyes widen as he sits up from his bed in a hurry. talk about a damn surprise.

“hey.” he says back lamely, because of course he does. he feels the corner of his lips tugging into a smile and his heart is beating wildly against his rib cage. “didn’t think you’d answer.”

“mhm. so what’d you call me for?” you sound tired, and he wonders if you’d been sleeping when he called. somehow, the thought makes his stomach churn at the implication you cut off hours of sleep for him.

“just wanted to hear your voice.” gojo answers as honestly as he can, leaning down to rest his back back into the mattress of his bed. he shuts his eyes and imagines his arm falling asleep underneath your head, using him as a pillow. “been missin’ you.”

“you literally see me every other day at school,” he’s graced with the harmonious sounds of your giggles, and he can already picture the way your shoulders shake as dimples curve into your cheeks. “y’re so fuckin’ clingy.”

he supposes he is, can’t even find it in him to disagree. you’ve been plaguing his mind since you cut him off (question mark) last week. he wasn’t sure what kind of ban you were putting on him, but he’s been tiptoeing around his relationship with you for too long. the absence of your presence in the way he craves is driving him nuts. he misses you, damn it.

a longing sigh rips from his throat, “can’t help that i miss that ass,” he jokes instead because talking about feelings and vulnerability is wrong. “you still owe me a goodbye kiss, y’know? just left a poor guy hangin’, rude.”

“hmm,” you hum lazily and he isn’t sure what to expect. he’s just talking out of his ass, wants to restore that playful banter you guys had prior to this whole pussy eating mess— which he’d gladly now get on his knees and rock your fucking world. “like i said already, you know where i live.”

“you got one more time to say that before i show up at your doorstep for real,” gojo tests the waters, and swings his legs off his bed. he’s waiting for a sign, confirmation, anything to ensure you were being serious. late night be damned, he will show up to your door and flip your shit right then and there.

“the fuck i gotta repeat myself for?” you sigh, and gojo’s slipping his shoes on. he’s wasting no more time, he wants you right now. “if you really missed me you would have been come see me. you’re all talk.”

“so when i yell at your doorstep to lemme eat it, don’t start lookin’ at me crazy—i’m warning ya.” and with that he hangs up. he’s not leaving any more room for debates, enough’s enough. and shit, when the fuck had he gotten bricked?

he grabs his keys and slams his door close.

☆ ☆

you’re looking at him like he grew an extra head on his shoulders overnight. he’s looking at you like the tee you have on your body decimated his entire bloodline. there’s a heavy silence between you both, as if either one of you are expecting the other to make the first move.

“you actually came.” you blink in mild shock, neck craning up to look him dead in the eye. he’s panting heavily, he might’ve ran here the second he could, but how could he not have?

“enough games, baby.” gojo answers instead and takes a step into your apartment. you back up in retaliation, and he takes another close step. you stay still this time. his hands sneak below the hem of your shirt and slide up to your bare waist, grabbing onto the plush flesh. you feel jolts of electricity imbedded into your skin with every lingering touch. “lemme eat it, come on. please?”

“oh?” you cock an eyebrow, raising a hand to press your palm flat against the plane of his chest. you feel his heartbeat thudding wildly. “and here i thought you were too good to stoop as low as giving women head.”

gojo clicks his tongue and tightens his hold on you. “i never said that.”

“you basically did.” you bite back, tilting your head to the side. you see his nostrils flare a bit, “or does that rule apply with just me?”

“if it did, would i be here at three in the morning begging to eat your pussy?” gojo rolls his eyes. you open your mouth but snap it back shut and gojo decides you conceded. he lifts you from the ground and places you on his shoulder, ignoring your ‘put me down!’ and opts to shut you up with a firm slap on your ass.

your cheeks jiggle from the impact, and his dick twitches in his briefs. as he suspected, you’ve got no bottoms on— just a cute pair of pink lace panties he wants to tear apart with his teeth. animalistic is what you make him.

“so. . . which one is your room?” he finds himself in the corridor, arm wrapped around the back of your knees. you fall limp in his hold, defeatedly as your arm lifts to point at the door at the end of the hall. he smirks and rubs at your booty, “atta girl. look at ya bein’ all obedient and shit.”

“shut up.” you huff, and he would bet a million dollars you’ve got that adorable pout on your lips. the one you make whenever you don’t get something done the way you planned.

your bedroom is everything he expected from you, fits your personality just about right. but—respectfully, fuck your bedroom. he’s got bigger issues to address, and that can only be done with your panties on the floor and a mouth full of your cunt. his dick is twitching uncontrollably at the thought of it alone.

“if you drop me on this bed, i swear i’m gonna kill you.” tilting your head, you warn him once he stands next to the edge of your bed frame. though a moot point, because if you know gojo as well as you think you do, you’re about to meet your duvets face first.

“mhm, what was that?” cupping a hand behind his ear, he pretends innocence then proceeds to do exactly what you warned him not to do. him and his long ass limbs, manhandling you all over the damn place as if its in his birthright. and no, it does not make your cunt clench, despite your thighs rubbing one against another. “sorry shortie, think i missed what you said.”

when you’re finally able to gain composure, you sit up on your elbows and furrow your brows in the nastiest scowl you can muster. he stands right above you, his frame so large it both annoys and turns you on. “gojo, you stupid fucking—”

you want to slap the smile off his face. “yeah, yeah.” he cuts you off, before leaning down to hover over you. his arms are pinned at your side, upper body pressing against yours. you feel the weight of his hips pressing into your legs, and so you widen the space. he fits in just as perfectly as you’d imagined he would. the tip of his nose brushes yours, biceps flexing in your peripherals. you feel his breath fanning at your cupid’s bow, warm yet it leaves shivers creeping at your spine.

“think you owe me somethin’, princess.” his voice comes out in a low growl, from the depths of his chest. his presence is so dominating— his bulge pressed right up against your aching cunt, the feel of his heartbeat right against yours. it all feels dizzying, the scent of his cologne filling up your nostrils and clouding any better sense of judgement.

he’s teasing you— leans in, brushes his soft lips against yours and watches as you lean forward to capture them but pulls away just in nick of time. he loves every one of your facial expressions, especially that adorable scowl of yours. he can’t wait to see the faces you make when you’re in absolute bliss.

he tilts his head just slightly, practically mouthing the words into your parted mouth. and with a low chuckle, he speaks, “if you want it, take it.”

you might’ve folded first, but he kisses you back just as eagerly, lips moulding into one another. you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you’d relieved him of all stresses weighing on his shoulders. you lift a hand to cup at the back of his neck, fingernails scratching at the undercut at his nape.

gojo shudders beneath your touch, rolling his hips deeper into yours and relishes in the way you moan softly into his mouth. he wants to drink up every single sound you make, wants to discover your body’s sensitive spots and maneuver them into making a mess out of you.

your neck soon begins to ache, and almost as if he can read your mind, pushing deeper into you as you fall back onto your bed. he never takes his lips off of yours— not when the hold in his hair lowers in favour to grip at his biceps or stroke his back, not even when your legs wrap tightly at his waist. at a particular grind, you moan louder than any other sound you’d made all night, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

“gojo,” you whine into his mouth, fingers clawing at his compression tee. he continues to roll his bulge into your clothed cunt, aiming at that spot that has you arching your back off the bed and into him. he grips a hand tightly at your plush thigh, his hold so hard you’re certain he’ll leave bruises. “you said y-you’d eat it. be a man of your, ngh, word.”

“yeah, that’s right,” he pulls away finally, a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips. he pecks at your kiss bitten lips, the dazed look in your eyes igniting a fire deep in his gut. “gotta keep my promise— can’t keep my baby waitin’ too long,” you feel his lips trail from the corner of your lips to the slope of your jaw, “she gets all cranky an’ pissy.” from the column on your neck to your collarbone, “starts gettin’ all mean with me.”

“oh my gosh, shut up!” you complain, though your hold on him tightens. you feel the vibrations of his chuckles at your jugular, followed by a deep plunge on his teeth at the thin layer of skin and another agonizingly slow grind against your clit. “fuckin’— shit— hurry up already!”

“tsk, see what i mean?” gojo tuts, hands sliding down the curves at your torso. you feel his large fingers play with the material of your panties, rolling the lace between forefingers. the contrast of the coolness of his rings against your heated skin adds a strange stimulation to your senses. “so mouthy, ‘m gonna have to do somethin’ about that.”

“i’m mouthy?” you squawk, watching as he lifts your tee up from your body. he taps wordlessly at your waist and you understand to remove the article of clothing. you chuck the tee across the room, before redirecting your focus on the man peppering wet kisses all over your stomach. it leaves butterflies rattling inside. “you literally cannot shut the fuck up— what’s the hold up? awe, don’t tell me you can’t walk the talk?”

he pauses for a bit. he doesn’t let himself fall bait for your words. you’re just being bratty— all hot and bothered and can’t properly ask for what you need. you don’t have to worry, he’s here entirely for your pleasure. he isn’t even thinking about the way his cock throbs painfully in his boxers, doesn’t even attempt to relieve it at all.

and so, he kneels at the edge of the bed. with two large hands cupping at your hips, he pulls you closer to him and rests your thighs on his shoulders. he watches as your chest rises up and down, and you prop yourself back onto your elbows.

your eyes are misty, your lips swollen and wet, your hair a mess and your neck littered in marks that scream gojo. you already look fucked out and he hadn’t done shit. god, he can’t wait to stuff his face between your thighs.

“i got you baby,” he drags his index finger right in the center of your cunt. he can both feel and see the material dampen with your arousal, your hips squirming as you chase for more. he licks his lips as he narrows in on the treasure, he swears he hears his stomach growling. “promise i do. just relax for me, yeah?”

“whatever.” you mumble, and comply to his order. he calls you a good girl, before stroking at your clit some more. the reactions you give will forever be imprinted in his mind, fleeting touches already granting him the opportunity to hear your delicate voice once more. you may be impatient but gojo is worse, and he decides that he wants to see your cunt now. he pushes your panties to the side, and the sight he’s rewarded with nearly— nearly, had him cumming right on two knees.

gojo gulps. “holy shit,” he feels his voice waver in excitement, eyes widened as he stares dead on. your cunt clenches around nothing from the switch of temperature, oozing more of your arousal down to your sheets. your pussy lips are puffy, clit sitting atop so prettily and damn, he wants to hump something.

he isn’t sure why but you try to close your thighs together, rude much, though gojo is much stronger. he keeps them spread wide, and shoots you a look. “do not.”

“tsk.” you click your tongue, looking away. and, oh, are you shy? “stop staring, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

he’s too far enamoured by the slick dribbling from your tiny hole down the crack of your ass. it trickles so tauntingly, that he finds himself nearly jealous. he wishes he could be there— oh wait, “just appreciatin’ my meal before i eat, sue me.”

the pad of his thumb collects your juices before popping it into his mouth. “wow,” he mumbles, more so to himself, at your taste bursting onto his taste buds. it’s so undoubtedly you, a raw and truthful you, and he gives you no warning before diving right in.

“fuckkk,” you throw your head back, hand flying to grab at the nearest thing in your vicinity— which so happens to be tousled, fluffy hair.

so, first time for everything right? but gojo maneuvers his way into your pussy as if he’d done this before. he starts off with kitten licks, teasing you some more before flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down your lips. he swallows and moans into your cunt, fingers digging deep into the back of your thighs.

he’s practically making out with your pussy. he doesn’t neglect any area, not even the clit surprisingly, as he latches his lips to the bundle of nerves and lightly nibbles. now that has your back arching and pushing his head deeper into you. if there was a way to go in life, he’d gladly take this death.

he’s so painfully hard it hurts, unable to control the way his hips grind against the bed frame. your scent is driving him feral, the way you tug on his hair harshly has his balls tightening and the way you cry out his name makes him want to imprint his name inside of you.

“s-satoru!” oh god, you’ve done it. you finally said his first name and he’s this close to painting his briefs white in shame. he continues to flick his tongue inside your hole and similar strokes to his humping. “you’re doin’ s’gooddd baby, shit!”

keep praising him and he’s gonna bust. he lifts himself away from your pussy, eyeing the gooey center almost offensively, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” he lands a wad of spit down, as he brings two digits to properly rub his saliva into your essence. the sounds it produces are so wet, it’s damn near filthy. he clicks his tongue, “seriously. ‘s makin’ me mad almost.” he slaps at your cunt twice, watching how your spray down his wrist.

“you s-sure this is your first, hnng, time?” you accuse, to the best of your abilities, as you feel him slip a finger in. you’re so lubricated, the slip inside was easy. pushing past that first ring of muscle, he’s pumping in and out of your cunt with precision, curling his digit as if he’s aiming to find a specific area. “y’know too much— mmph, fuckin’ liar.”

when he thrusts into a specific angle, your thighs tremble terribly around his head. he smirks, found it. “watched a lotta porn.” and he isn’t lying, he thinks back to how he studied the arts of cunningulus, and recalls the double combo. he has to try it, so he’s back to sucking and nibbling at your clit while adding an extra finger inside.

“oh my goddd,” you whine, feeling your limbs liquify in heat from every extremity. he pushes your knee further into your chest, and so you grab ahold of both your thighs. he hums approvingly, dragging his free hand along the soft skin of your legs. “don’t— don’t stop, please don’t stop,”

your toes are curled, back off the mattress and the pain in his scalp is shooting straight down to his cock. he’s rutting and rutting into the wooden frame, the flat surface painfully teasing though it does do the job. or maybe he has you to blame.

he feels saliva dripping down his chin, the way his tongue slides into your folds and feels his knuckles in there. his fingers move in scissoring motions, rotating circles, in and out— all the while repeatedly attacking your golden spot.

you severely underestimated him, and can barely process the orgasm that rips through you when he presses a hand onto your lower belly, “‘m cumming, fuck, ngh, don’t stop—” and you wail, fingernails clawing intensely into his tresses, torn between pushing him away and pulling him in closer. he decides to make that decision for you, stuffing himself as deep as possible to not miss a single drop, and your thighs clench against his ears.

so, gojo satoru is a shameless man. as you flood into his mouth and onto his face, grinding out your orgasm and using him as nothing but a toy for your own high— somewhere along the lines, he feels his briefs are sticky. he moans sluttily into your pussy, hips twitching incessantly as his cock shoots loads of nut into his boxers.

it feels like an eternity yet simultaneously a second when you’ve come down from your high, body twitching as gojo slows down his movements, his finger pumps gradually lessening in intensity and the kitten licks on your abused clit coming to a halt.

his face is soaked. his skin feels moist and damp, a thick air of humidity beginning to grow in the room, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. his eyes are stuck on you, limbs sprawled out limply against your bed, your chest heaving, tiny breaths coming out of your mouth.

he slides out his aching fingers, and pops them back in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits so eagerly, basking in your taste once more. absolutely divine,

“christ, i’d make a nasty pornstar.”

gojo won the poll. . . everybody act surprised (°_°)

#rena☆star.#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x you #gojo x you #x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n

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lokissweater · 18 days

Note

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

7K notes · View notes

imaginedisish · 1 month

Text

Modern Love (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! Here's something short and sweet. This is based on a request, so I hope the requester enjoys :) No song references here, but "Modern Love" by David Bowie seems appropriate. It's 80s, New Wave-y, and we're in an arcade in this fic, so it fits.

Summary: The team goes out to an arcade, and Logan is his usual grumpy self...but his soft spot for you is more clear than ever.

Warnings: Suggestive content (would totally write a second part with some true smut), tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, cursing, f!reader/afab!reader, grumpy!Logan, Jubilee is a cock block LOL, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,685 short and sweet indeed

“I do not want to be here,” Logan complains, rolling his eyes as the team strolls into the arcade.

Jubilee skips inside, twirling with excitement. “Well, that’s just too bad, Logan!” She calls, running over to the arcade’s version of Dance Dance Revolution. Kurt is laughing, following at her heels. “Because everyone else is going to have a great time!”

“Gambit’s winning big tonight,” Gambit says, taking Rogue’s hand in his. “Gambit’s winning chere a prize, he is.” Rogue blushes, letting Gambit pull her to one of the fake slot machines.

Jean and Scott walk over to an older machine—Pac-Man or something similar, probably. Storm and Charles head towards the seating area near the snack bar in the back, leaving you and Logan to yourselves. Of course. You’re alone with Logan. The person you want but you know you can’t have.

You’re friends—just friends. You’ve accepted that he’ll never see you as anything more, but it still hurts.

“So…” You say, trailing off as Logan looks around the arcade. “Not your kind of place, huh?”

“Not particularly,” he says back, his eyes finding yours. You can’t help but smile at that stupid, grumpy look on his face. “You like this shit?” He asks, smiling back at you.

You shrug your shoulders, noncommittal. “I think you’d have fun if you tried,” you say, nodding towards the crane machine, and walking over. You can hear Logan’s footsteps against the carpet, following you close behind.

You peer into the glass, looking at all the stuffed animals filling the machine. Your smile widens when you spot the cute little turtle in the back—green and brown, wide eyes, and extra plush and round. Logan leans against the machine, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “Which one are we going for?” He asks. We—you can’t help but replay the word in your head. There’s a “we” in this. You and Logan.

You point to the turtle in the back row. “We’re going for that one,” you say, and his eyes find the green little thing. “Isn’t he cute?”

He shakes his head, grinning ear to ear, his grumpiness seemingly gone now. “Sure, princess, sure he is.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sound of the familiar pet name. You lean down to put a quarter in the machine, trying your best not to overthink the situation. The crane starts up, whirring to life, giving you three tries to win the stuffy.

You maneuver the crane to the back row, just above the turtle. “Do you think that’s good?” You ask, looking towards Logan. But he isn’t looking at the machine; he’s looking at you, smirking. “What?” You ask, narrowing your eyes incredulously.

“You’re cute when you concentrate,” Logan says, his smirk unwavering. You can feel the heat rising to your chest as he peers into the machine. He nods, his eyes finding yours again, changing the subject before you can respond to his comment. “Looks good to me.”

You swallow nervously, pressing the button on the top of the stick, sending the crane down to the stuffy. It grabs the turtle, holding it up. It looks like it’s going to make it, but it falls in the center of the glass box. You groan, annoyed as the crane moves back to position. You try again, bringing the crane to the center of the machine, just above the turtle, and dropping it again. The silver claws grip the plushy, but it’s a bad grab—the turtle slipping right out of its grasp.

“Fucking rigged,” you mutter, moving the crane over the turtle for the final time. “This is it,” you say, looking at Logan. He’s suddenly shifting closer to you, standing behind you and pressing his front to your back. His arms rest on either side of the crane machine’s controls, caging you in.

“Much better view from here,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. You’re distracted by how close he is. You can smell him—tobacco and pine and musk. “Let’s see if it works, princess.” This is too much. Far more than you can possibly handle.

You take a deep breath, your eyes surveying the crane’s distance from the turtle carefully, and you press the button. The crane drops, grabbing the stuffy, and picking it up successfully. “Yes!” You say, looking back at Logan. His face is inches from yours. You can feel his breath fan across your lips. Your noses are so close, brushing together softly. He leans in, lips parted.

“Game over!” A robotic, automated voice rings out, the crane whirling back into position. It snaps you back to reality, and you look inside the machine. There, off to the side just next to the machine’s drop box, is the turtle.

“Shit,” you mumble, shoulders slumping with disappointment. You know it’s just a game, and you are an adult after all, but you can’t help the frown that forms across your face. “I really wanted him. I was gonna name him Bernie.”

Logan chuckles. “Bernie?” he asks, and you nod. He’s centimeters away from you again, leaning in. “Don’t sweat the loss, princess. You’re cuter than that little thing is anyw—"

“Look what Kurt and I got with our tickets!” Jubilee is suddenly in front of you, a stuffed, sparkly blue dinosaur in her hand. She’s tugging you away from Logan and across the arcade before you can protest. “You gotta dance with me!” You look back at Logan, who’s standing alone in front of the crane machine, arms tucked against his chest.

Have fun, he mouths. And good luck. He winks at you as Jubilee whisks you off to Dance Dance Revolution. You let her pick the song, and you struggle through the round, your feet tapping to the beat. You and Jubilee are a laughing mess. You know you look absolutely ridiculous, but it’s fun.

And yet, your mind still wanders to Logan. You think about how close he was to you, the way his lips practically brushed against yours—the ghost of a kiss. You think about the way he caged you in, pressed against your back. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realize how badly you’re fumbling all the moves; you don’t hear Jubilee calling your name.

“Hey!” She shouts, finally bringing you back to reality. The round is over; you missed the entire second half of the dance. “Where’d you go just there?” She asks, concern hidden within her smile.

You look over to the crane machine, expecting to see Logan, but he’s gone. In fact, you can’t find him anywhere. “Sorry Jubes, but I gotta go see about something,” you say, stepping off the platform.

Your eyes search the arcade. Gambit and Rogue are at the ticket redemption counter, picking out a big stuffed bear. Kurt is fooling around on one of those motorcycle racing games. Storm and Charles are—uncharacteristically—sharing a soft pretzel, while Jean and Scott share a milkshake. Everyone is here and accounted for except Logan.

That is, until you notice the puff of smoke in the corner of the glass door at the front of the arcade. You smirk, walking towards the entrance and pushing the door open.

Logan leans against the brick wall of the building, cigar in his mouth. His head turns towards you, and he immediately takes the cigar out, dropping it to the ground and extinguishing it with the heel of his boot.

“Hi,” you whisper, standing next to him.

He looks down at you, smiling widely. “Hi.” He’s leaning in again—so close—and a shiver runs up your spine. “Cold?” He asks, shrugging out of his leather jacket before you have a chance to answer. He helps you into the jacket one arm at a time, his eyes drinking you in once it’s on, trailing up and down your body. “Looks good on you,” he hums. “Way better than it does on me.”

You shake your head, letting your shoulder brush against his. You look over at him and suddenly notice something green and round in his hand. “What’s that?” You ask. But you already know. You recognize the little brown spots and the wide eyes.

Logan smirks, lifting the turtle up. “Couldn’t let you go home without him,” he says, holding it out towards you.

“No way!” You shout, ignoring the turtle and throwing your arms around Logan’s neck. It’s instinctive, natural. He tugs you in closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Thank you so much,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. “I can’t believe you ended up playing a game at an arcade.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers against your temple. The sudden vulnerability of his words makes your heart tighten in your chest. You stay like that for a while, his lips ghosting your forehead, your chests pressed together. You finally lift your head, looking up at Logan.

“Lo?” You whisper, and his gaze meets yours, flitting between your eyes and your lips. He drops the plushy onto the bench next to him and walks you back into the brick wall, caging you in, hands on either side of your waist.

He leans in. “Yeah, pretty girl?” He brings one hand to your hip, gripping gently. “What do you need?”

“Y-you,” you stutter. “I need y—"

His lips swallow your words, fitting against yours like a puzzle piece. The kiss is slow, languid, but you can feel his need in the way he moves against you, hands slipping underneath the borrowed jacket and your shirt to explore your skin. His fingertips drag along your back, relaxing you into his touch.

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Logan mumbles against your lips.

Your heart flutters in your chest. “But what about the others?” You ask, nodding to the arcade.

Logan smirks, stealing another kiss. “All the more reason to get back to the mansion before they do.”

“But how are we going to—”

He grips your waist, tugging you towards the parking lot. “I took my bike, pretty girl.”

Oh?

Oh.

tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie

#Logan Howlett x reader #Wolverine x reader #James Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x you #Wolverine x you #James Logan Howlett x you #Logan Howlett fluff #Wolverine fluff #James Logan Howlett fluff #Logan Howlett x reader fluff #Wolverine x reader fluff #James Logan Howlett x reader fluff #deadpool and wolverine #Logan Howlett imagine #Wolverine imagine #James Logan Howlett imagine

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taintandviolent · 2 months

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Turbo Lover ; Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: After getting fed up with Jason Carver and his gross attitude, reader decides to take him up on a dare. That dare, is kissing Eddie Munson on the mouth. Something she's been longing to do since she arrived in Hawkins.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.5K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), fingering, handjobs.

a/n: started writing this back in *checks watch* july of 2022....... ahem. finished writing this to turbo lover by judas priest, if you wanna listen! just felt like an eddie song to me, don't ask for clarification. this could possibly be a multi-parter, haven't decided yet. my first (technically) eddie fic...... do not come for my throat, thanks. not beta-read, yada yada yada. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

“Oh, choke on it, Jason.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Mrs. Cowan for a replacement lab partner.”

Rolling your eyes, you resist the urge to fling your forkful of corn at him. “Hah! Please do. I’d rather stick my tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat and spend the weekend with mono than spend another blissful second trying to watch you figure out anatomy, dipshit.”

“Go do it then. I dare you.” Jason barks, nostrils flaring. He was going to call your bluff. There was no way that you were going to go over to that weird satanist’s table. Being more of a rocker, you weren’t posh and cute like Chrissy was, but you still had boundaries. And a good head on your shoulders. He knew you did. He hoped you did.

“Fine,” you snap, slamming both palms onto the table. “I hope you fail your science project.” Jason’s confident expression falls. Your rings scrape against the plastic as you push yourself up. With more determination than you’d had the entire semester, you swing both your legs over the bench and head for Eddie’s table, navigating around the other tables. The rest of his little dungeon buddies are already gawking at you as they’d been paying attention to the shouting. Confidently, you take a running leap up onto the table, and stomp your way down its length like a soldier marching towards enemy fire. The target, Eddie Munson, was staring at you with wide eyes and brows lifted.

“Outta my way.” The pointed tip of your boot sends an empty lunch tray flying off the table and clattering onto the floor.

“Hey, Munson!” You drop down onto your haunches, and now, eye-level with him, grab his face and pull it towards you, crushing your lips against his. The roll he’s holding drops from his grasp, falling lifelessly onto his tray. As soon as his plush lips press into yours, giving way to your tugging, your shoulders relax, melting into the kiss. You had been waiting for an excuse to get his attention since you’d sat down in your first class at Hawkins High, daydreaming about talking to him. You’d spent many a class period staring at Eddie’s lips, so you expected the kiss would be enjoyable… but not like this.

At first, both of your lips were closed, smushed together in the hurriedness of the moment, but when you exhale and his lips part, your tongue delves into his mouth, sweeping along his. To your surprise, he reciprocates the action, and presses his chin up into yours, asserting a new sort of need. Despondent groans and laughs of shock pepper the cafeteria around you, and from behind you, came the confusion of the other residents of the table. As you take Eddie Munson in literal mouthfuls, you felt something shift in him, and the noise started to fade away. You tilt your head, and push deeper into the kiss.

“Who the hell is she?” One of the boys asks, clearly as confused as everyone else was.

You shudder against him, feeling a burning heat between your legs, and immediately pull away to stand up, turning to face the far table. Jason was staring at you, looking more embarrassed than disgusted, but he did well hiding it with his scholarship scowl. You wipe the back of your hand across your mouth, drawing your — Eddie’s— the mutual saliva across your cheek. Triumphantly, you hold your arms out, daring the blonde haired moron to say anything further. He doesn’t.

With a proud smirk on your face, you pivot back to Eddie, lips parted to speak, maybe to apologize to him for being so forward. All that comes out though, is the jarring echo of the lunch bell as it rings loudly through the cafeteria. You take that as an excuse to get out of the situation, and step down onto the bench between two of his little minions, then onto the floor. With your heart pounding in your chest like a drum, you make a beeline for the lockers. You’re practically running down the halls, and for what? To get away from Eddie? The guy you had just swapped spit with? And liked it?

After shaking his head free of the shock, Eddie hurriedly bins his lunch and takes off after you, leaving the boys to their own devices. He was panting quietly once he’d finally caught up to you. “Hey, just wait a minute, okay?”

You say nothing, and keep digging in your locker for a book you knew wasn’t there. You’d left it at home, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Come on, you can’t just plant something like that on me and run away, man.” You hear a thump against the locker next to you, and out of the corner of your eye, see him leaning his shoulder into it. You huff and keep digging.

“You really think I’d give you mono?” He asks, sounding hurt.

Forcing your breath out through your teeth, you stop digging, and lean back to look at him. Those puppy eyes…

“No,” you say, feeling bad that he even heard that to begin with. You shut the locker. “I don’t. But the point was that I’d rather suffer with y— errr suffer any sort of wicked sickness than be even remotely happy around him.”

“So… why’d you stop? Was it that bad?”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I stopped because I… um, the bell was going to ring.” That was a lie. You stopped because your beating heart had sunk between your legs. Kissing him was a massive turn-on, but you weren’t about to admit that.

“That it did…” he starts, absentmindedly playing with a strand of his own hair. “And now we’re late.”

You narrow your eyes. His brows flick upwards and the tip of his tongue presses pointedly into his lower lip, a little glimmer of mischief in his expression. Ready to prove him wrong, your eyes dart to the clock above the lockers, the visual causing you to curse under your breath. You hadn’t even heard the second bell, but he was right. Three minutes past. And Mr. Jenkins? Didn’t let anyone in after the bell rang. Fucker. Eddie shimmies closer, his soft, brown eyes falling to your lips. He was smiling, watching you and looking like he was daydreaming about having those soft lips against his again.

“You wanna’... maybe show me what else you’d rather be doing than spending your time with brainless Ken dolls?”

You considered the offer for a moment. You had been pining after him since your first English class with him, and now… your split decision had thrown open the door to opportunity. When you’d tried to close it, Eddie had put his dirty white Reebok right in the way.

“Screw it, let’s go.”

“Yeah?” He confirms, excited.

“Yeah.”

Eddie wastes no time, taking hold of your hand as he passes you, towing you in the direction of the doors and out into the parking lot.

How did you end up here? In retrospect; you’d probably have to thank Jason for pissing you off that day, in that particular way that really drove you over the edge. Because if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been crawling into the back of Eddie Munson’s van while he stood behind you, looking at the gentle curve of your ass.

After throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder, making sure there weren’t any prying eyes watching the two of you, Eddie follows you inside and pulls the door shut behind him, the metal squeaking loudly. You sit down and cross your legs, resting against the interior wall. The inside of his van is warm, having baked in the sun all afternoon. Cassette tapes litter the floor behind the seats, and a Judas Priest shirt hangs over the headrest of the passenger seat. A few undisclosed cables are wadded up in the corner, you assume they were musical in nature. He seemed like the type. It’s exactly what you’d pictured his van to look like.

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry about the… mess.”

You chuckle, looking brightly at him. “I don’t care. Plus, Judas Priest is rad. That song that came out last month… Turbo Lover? Gets stuck in my head all the time.”

Delighted by this reaction, Eddie knee-walks over to you, that same mischievous smile on his face as before. He leans down, exhaling over your lips before looking into your eyes with a burning curiosity.

“Why were you sitting at his table anyway? You don’t seem like his type.”

“His type? Gah, gross. No. We’re lab partners. Regrettably. Turns out, he’s kind of a massive dolt when it comes to science.” You pause and heave a sigh, your breath rushing out over his cheeks. He blinks. “I really don’t want to talk about Jason right now, Eddie.”

“Oh yeah, totally.” With that, his hand snaps to your jaw, where he holds it gently, his thumb stroking your cheek. “You wanna’ makeout or something?”

You can’t help but laugh, unsure if it’s because of the butterflies in your stomach, or because he’s kind of a dork. Smooth and very charming, but a dork all the same. You chalk it up to a combination of both and lean forward until the tips of your noses touch. “Yeah, Eddie, I wanna’ makeout. Again.”

This time, Eddie is the one to initiate the kiss. He presses his lips against yours softly a few times, your lips sticking together each time he pulls away. Relishing in the taste of you, he hums into the kiss, pressing himself closer to you. After a few moments, he breaks the kiss to readjust his position. The break is too long, it seems, because before you know it, he’s back to leaning over you and craning his neck down to kiss you from above. His hands drop to find your neck, his thumb trailing down over the front of it while the others stay tenderly wrapped around the side, squeezing slightly. The motion sends a deep shiver down your spine, reigniting the embers of your arousal. Eddie laughed breathily into the kiss.

“Quite the reaction…” he murmurs over your lips.

“Oh, shuttup.” Your hand makes a fist in his shirt, pulling him back onto you. “Keep kissing me.”

“As you wish.” He says dreamily, with lust woozying his speech. His voice is slightly deeper now, laced with hunger, and you whimper, pressing your knees together. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices this, and moves his free hand to your kneecaps, wriggling in between them to separate them. They fall apart with no resistance, and again, Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against your lips, sending a tickling wave over them. Your willingness almost embarrasses you, but when Eddie says nothing, only moves to slot himself in between your thighs, you realize that he’s into it.

“No need to be shy here, princess. Just you and me.”

Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers splaying out over his back. “God, you’re cute.”

“So are you.”

“No, you’re really cute.”

Eddie pulls away, furrowing his brow as if he’s confused. He is – he’s confused on whether or not you realize he thinks you’re a catch, too. You sense the confusion, and roll your hips up against his. His breath hitches in his throat, eyeing you pleadingly. It’s a warning – you can’t do things like that lest he lose control.

“Uuughh,” you moan. “I don’t know why it took me this long to kiss you.”

“Me neither.”

He presses his lips against yours again, his tongue slipping past the two plush pillows, tasting the waxiness of your lipstick. Swiping his tongue along yours, he deepened the kiss, enticing you to join in a painfully erotic dance of spit-swapping. He exhales hotly over your mouth and grinds his hips against yours, groaning softly into your mouth. You grind back, knowing exactly what you’re doing. You can feel what you’re doing to him; it was currently pressed against your inner thigh.

You reach down between your bodies, finding the warm bulge in the front of his black jeans and give him a soft squeeze. The sudden contact makes him lurch forward, crushing himself somehow further against you. He can’t get any closer to you without melting into your body which, in truth, makes him crazy. He makes a sound — something between a whine and a gasp — and ruts his hips against your center. The pressure has you reeling, pressing your back against the inside of the van.

“Eddie, fuck…”

“Yeah,” he echoes your sentiment, nodding his head so enthusiastically that his soft brown hair flutters.

“Can I…?”

He grins. “You can if I can. It’s only fair.”

You let your legs fall farther apart, granting him access. With a newfound urgency, you quickly yank on his waistband, pull the silver button from its slit and maneuver your hand inside the elastic of his boxers. On the way down, you rake your fingers through the thatch of brown hair above his cock. Eddie responds by tightening his grip on your neck instinctively. The tips of your fingers find the searing hot head of his cock, precum leaking from the slit. With an audible mmmm, you swipe your thumb over it, smearing around the underside of the tip. Eddie hisses through his teeth, rutting his hips over and over again – forcing you to jerk him off a little. The tip slides through your fist, slippery and warm and you can’t help but let out a satisfied sound.

“Wow,” you breathe, in awe. You weren’t sure what you expected, but feeling a cock this heavy wasn’t on the menu. You’d been with a few metalheads before, and they were all average at best. You thought he’d follow suit. Not heavy in your hand. But he is. God, he is. Eddie licks hungrily at your mouth before running his tongue along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth, biting down slightly. You groan, pressing your head back against the wall.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you say, breathlessly before squeezing his cock again. It twitches in your grip, hardening just a little bit further. You can feel the tension in his lower abdomen every time you slip your hand deeper into his boxers, tugging at his cock as you slide back up.

His hands drop from your neck to your waist to your hips, his thumb making circles on the strip of exposed stomach flesh between your black leather skirt and your shirt. One hand sinks lower, moving from your hip to your leg, sliding against the pillowy, cream soft flesh of your inner thigh. It slides up your skirt, pressing against the nylons, and grazing your cunt from the outside. Inside his jeans, your hand starts to go slack, but Eddie quickly snaps you back to attention.

“I’m gonna’ need you to stay focused, baby. Don’t stop.”

“S-sorry.” You pick up the pace, stroking his cock again at a much steadier speed. He lets out a soft groan, the feeling of your hand gently stroking his dick sending him into a haze of pleasure. But, he, too, has to focus.

Eddie gets back to work, carefully undoing the zipper on the side of your skirt. He tugs, shimmying the skirt down over your hips and continues pulling until he pauses to pull your legs from the black circle, tossing it towards the van doors. Now, the only thing between him and your cunt is the fabric of your tights and your white satin underwear. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is Eddie – the look on his face says it all. He sweeps you into another kiss.

It’s almost as if he was using the kiss as a distraction from the adept way he’s rolling your nylons off your hips and down your thighs. You almost don’t feel it and don’t notice until he’s got them down around your ankles.

“May I?”

“May you? What is this –” You asked, trying to tease him, but your voice is so high pitched, so feathery with lust, that it just sounds ridiculous. You huff and nod, giving him whatever permission he felt he needed.

His middle finger traces the visible slit in your underwear and embarrassingly, your whole body responds. From your legs snapping shut on his hand to the utterly humiliating moan that tumbled off your lips, there’s no coming back from that reaction. Eddie laughs quietly, almost devilishly and you relax your legs again.

“Sorry, I’ve… I’ve been…. Um…”

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.”

“Oh god, fuck… I’ve kinda’ sorta’ had a thing for you since English with M–”

“Mrs. Lawrence? Last semester.”

Your mouth hung slack. He knew?

“You really thought you’d walk in, looking the way you do, and I wouldn’t remember?”

Your stomach tightens underneath your shirt; butterflies are erupting beneath the skin. Any further jabs to your heart and they actually might rupture through your ribcage.

His finger sweeps along your center again, before hooking around the scalloped edge of the panties and pulling them down over the curve of your hip. A clear, slick strand stretches between your cunt and the fabric before snapping. Eddie growls, a deeply pleased sound erupting from his throat.

Two fingers part your folds, sweeping tantalizingly at the underside of your clit before sliding down to your entrance. He prods the opening with his middle first, making tiny circles and spreading your arousal around your cunt. Finally, he inserts both fingers, sinking them to the knuckle. Moving his arm, you watch as the bats literally fly back and forth and let out a small, breathy laugh. The way he was working you felt so good, your hand instinctively tightened around his cock. Eddie shuffled closer, his knee in front of your cunt. Before you have time to react, Eddie abruptly takes hold of your left hand and brings it above your head, holding it tight against the wall of his van, his rings pressing into your fingers. Your digits tangle with his and he flays them open.

He continues thrusting his fingers in and out, watching your every move. You looked up and whined loudly; the sight of your smaller hand entangled with his larger one was divine, and sent another shockwave through your core. The coil in your stomach wound tighter, and tighter. Your body flushed with heat, and you were suddenly wishing you were naked underneath him. Eddie suddenly leans over you, pressing the side of his face against yours.

“I’m your turbo lover…” He sings quietly in your ear, his tone honeyed and low, absolutely dripping with sex appeal. Your eyes roll back in your head, your jaw falling open. “...tell me there’s no other…”

“Oh fuck, Eddie, oh my god-!”

At the singing, your needy pussy clenched around his digits, shivering violently. His thumb moves to your swollen, tender clit, rubbing it back and forth expertly. The coil snaps, and you moan loudly, banging your head against the wall a few times.

“OH MY GOD!”

You shouldn’t have found it so hot, but the way he sung the lyrics into your ear sent a wave of electricity through your entire body. As the sound of your moans reach his ears, Eddie groans and bucks his hips rhythmically, pumping himself closer to the edge of orgasm.

After a few more pumps from you, his back arches and he groans your name – another surprise that he knows that – as his hot, sticky release coats your fingers as wave after wave of pleasure surges through him. The flushed, pink tip was exposed enough that when he does finally lose it, the first spurts of cum find their way onto your shirt. He doesn’t notice right away, still thrusting his hips into your loose fist. Finally, he brings his head forward to look at you again. His chest is heaving, panting from the exertion, and his eyes trail from your face down to your shirt. The wanton look is replaced with one of horror.

“Jesus, I’m sorry! Here uh,” Eddie paused, stretching over to yank the shirt from the seat. “Wear this. I promise it’s clean. Decently… uh… clean.”

You didn’t care if it wasn’t. The fact that he had given you his shirt because he accidentally came on yours was single handedly the cutest thing you’d ever had a guy do for you. You withdrew your hand from his boxers, and he let go of your other hand. Quickly, you pulled your shirt over your head and wadded it up in a ball, setting it next to you. His shirt was baggy, but you quickly remedy that by tying the front in a knot. The way that Eddie’s eyes skirted over your breasts wasn’t lost on you. You smirk.

“Think Mr. Jenkins noticed we were both gone?” He asks as you fluff your hair.

“Probably. F’s for both of us.”

Eddie smiles.

You look down at the shirt, trying to talk your blushing cheeks down. “I’ll give this back to you. Remind me.”

“Sure,” he says, not fully convinced he wants it back. He likes the idea of you wearing his shirt around school. A dirty little reminder of what occurred. “You should come to one of our meetings.”

“Meetings?” You ask, quirking a brow.

“Yeah,” he says, plucking his shirt. Your eyes drift down to the red, snarling demon on his chest. The words Hellfire Club crown the demon, decorated with medieval looking weapons.

“Right, right. Dungeons and Dragons… I’ve never played it.”

“I’ll teach you, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

[PART TWO HERE]

#jesus h CHRIST i hope this is well received lmao #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #myfics

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awrkive · 1 month

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[TEASER] THE LOVE PROGNOSIS (m) — JJK.

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. that girl who thought the guy she met at 19 at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. the girl who thought that her boyfriend at 21 would finally be The One after he introduced her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. you’re the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.

but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WORD COUNT 1.2k words for this teaser but the fic currently is at 22k words (heavily unedited). the final estimate is around 30-35k 🤓

WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, weddings and engagement themes, the angst is a bit extreme (medium level tbh) on this one, it’s the… yearning? one sided-love?, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, multiple sex scenes (will specify once the fic comes out), i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me. the full list of warnings will be indicated when the full fic comes out 🙏🏼 anyways warnings particularly for this teaser: drunk oc, implied alcohol consumption, germaphobe jk lol

NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wanted to do something for jk’s birthday this september and this is what i came up with 😭 i am so soooo so incredibly excited to announce this fic to you guys 😵‍💫 ive been working on this on and off since the last week of july and its currently at 20k words so its coming along really well 🫂 its gonna be a HUGEE HUGEEE fic since its estimated to be around 30k words which will be a first for me hehe <3 pls look forward to it and REPLY TO THE COMMENT SECTION IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST (pls do not send an ask for taglist request 🫶🏼) LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK!!!!! I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS <33333

[ TLP MOODBOARD ]

READ FULL FIC HERE ❗

“Hey, swing me.”

You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.

“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.

“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”

“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.

“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.

Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it. A huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.

“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.

You laugh.

“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”

He visibly winces. “Touché.”

Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.

For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.

But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.

“Okay, your turn.”

Jungkook gives you a big grin.

“Nice.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.

“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.

You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”

The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.

You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.

“What the fuck, __?”

You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.

Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.

Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.

“Let’s lie on the ground.”

“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.

You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.

Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”

You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.

Jungkook stops his rambling after that.

“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies. “The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him. As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.

You smile, going back to looking at the sky.

“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.

“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.

Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”

You chuckle at the irony.

“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”

You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”

That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.

“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”

“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.

“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”

“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”

You hum, eyes still closed.

“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.

The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.

Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.

“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.

You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.

Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.

“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.

You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.

“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.

Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.

You fall asleep easily mid-drive.

In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.

morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up

ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed

— your angelic friend, kookie

You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfic #awrkive

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ariaxmu · 1 month

Text

you’re… oblivious!!

a small mattheo riddle x fem! reader fic. friends to lovers.

summary: everybody in the school knows mattheo likes you… except you. very oblivious reader. thinks he just does this to every girl. fluffy with perhaps a tiny amount of angst.

“y/n! get back here.” i say someone snap, to which i turn around confused, seeing mattheo motioning me to go down a secluded hallway. i follow quietly, before he stops and turns around.

“what is this i hear about you going to hogsmeade with some random guy this weekend?” he says, face harderning as he crosses his arms, looking down at me.

i smile softly. “yeah! i was asked on an actual real life date!!” i squeal.

he clenches his jaw. “with who?” he asks, pretending to not sound so furious.

“just this ravenclaw guy.. you wouldn’t know him” i say gently.

“you drive me insane.” he breaths out a laugh, pinching inbetween his brows as he calms down. “do you not realise what i’m putting down here?” he says, “just how clear am i going to have to make this for you?” he steps a little closer.

“i don’t know.. but have class to go to.”

“no no no, you’re not going anywhere until we’ve sorted this out” mattheo exclaims, pulling me further down the hallway for more privacy.

“do you- do you not realise how i act around you?” he says softly, sitting down on the windowsill beside me.

“yes, you act the same as you act around everybody.”

“you couldn’t be more incorrect.”

“w- hey! i’m completely right.” i say, pouting as i cross my arms.

“oh for the love of god” mattheo stares with a love sick gaze, whilst i pout and put my parts on.

“what? you act no different when you’re with me compared to anybody else.”

“okay i’ve had enough, listen. i write notes for you when you aren’t in class when i don’t even write myself notes, i spend time in the library because i know you’ll be there. i follow you around like a lost puppy sometimes because i just want to be near you. i have tried to ask you out on dates millions of times but you just don’t see it. i’m doing all of this to make. a. move. on. you.” he says, fast but passionately.

my eyes widen as i stare at him, a little stunned. it all makes sense now.

“i carry your books for you, i give you my hoodies when it’s cold, i always make sure you’re asleep before i go to sleep in case you need me, i talk to people about you, i just- god i like you so, so much” he practically whimpers, desperate for me to say something or do something.

i stare at him for one moment more, before saying. “uh… i need to cancel the hogsmeade date this weekend then.” i say with red flushed cheeks.

“yeah; you better.” he says sternly.

“and i think also id like to kiss you”

“yeah you fucking better.” he steps closer, admiring my face for one second, before his hands reach up to my face to press his lips softly onto mine, only for a second before pulling back to check if i was okay.

for an answer i press lips back onto his, harder and more passionately this time. my arms wrapping around his neck, his holding onto my waist and lower back.

“mmmf, finally” he mumbles against my lips.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

just a small one but also kinda cute :3 thanks for reading!! send me requests through inbox.

love u guys tyty <33

#harry potter #slytherin #theodore nott #fanfiction #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader

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luveline · 4 months

Note

would you do a james fainting fic 🙏🙏

—James doesn’t like you, but he’ll come to your rescue. fem, 1.5k The office is hot.

James dabs at his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Remus rubbing his eye.

“You okay?” he asks.

You look up from the paper on your desk. When you realise he isn’t asking you, you look away, your lips pressing into a tight line. James tries not to show he’s noticed.

“Fine,” Remus mutters. “Fucked off ‘cos of the portal changing again. I hate these long passwords.”

“Are you hot or is it just me?”

You clear your throat. Usually, unless it’s Remus who’s spoken first or James has said something you find ridiculous, you won’t interrupt. “I’m really warm,” you say, “do you think I can open the window?”

“Like you can reach it, shorts. I’ll do it.” James jumps up from his seat. Whether you’re short or not has nothing to do with it. James is taller, and he holds it against you diligently.

He rounds your desks. The sun is worse on his skin than the heat alone. He can’t imagine how awful you must feel to have it on the side of your neck all day; in the half minute he stands there opening the window, the heat makes him queasy.

He tugs the blinds down enough to shield you. It’ll help the entire office, he thinks. Not just you. If you thought he was doing something nice you’d only interrogate his motives until you both turned irate, and that’s the last thing anyone needs today.

James isn’t sure how you and he ended up not liking one another. He’s never met anybody he didn’t like that wasn’t a massive wanker, and you are but you’re not, not really. When you first started he’d actually thought you were cute, and funny, if a little quiet. It didn’t matter because James is used to quiet people. But one thing turned to another, he’d used your mug without washing it, you’d left him off of the department emails for the quarter, then the snipping started. Constant nitpicking and bickering. You make it too easy, and so what if he likes how you look when you’re mad? It doesn’t hurt anybody to put your mug in the stockroom and your lunch on a different shelf. If anything, he’s keeping you vigilant.

You don’t look vigilant. You don’t say anything as James sits back down, even though he hits his knee for the hundredth time on his desk. You usually love it. Sometimes when you’re tired he does it on purpose to give you a reason to keep going till 4:30.

“Are you okay?” James asks finally, eyeing your face. “You look funnier than usual.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He should stop being mean. You look like you’re gonna pass out.

Remus peeks over his computer screen. “You don’t look well,” he says.

“I’m fine.” You roll your seat back.

James pushes back at the same time. “Wait a second–”

You’re standing before James can stop you, but he stands up anyways, and he takes your elbow into his hand though he shouldn’t. You give him the most peculiar look, almost like you’re enjoying his touch, just for those two seconds, before your chin dips down and your eyes squeeze closed, and all of you goes slack.

James grabs you at the precipice of a bad fall.

You’re still as a doll in his hands. He leans back with a quick sigh, his arm curling over the small of your back and upward. Your legs aren’t holding your weight, and you begin to slip.

James could keep you up, he doesn’t go to the gym for nothing, but Remus rushes to his aid and pushes your chair back, helping him set you down on the floor. “What do we do?” Remus asks urgently.

James puts his hand behind your head. You’re slack. When he touches your face, your skin is as hot as the heart of a furnace.

“Can you get some water?” he asks Remus.

James is peculiarly calm. He knows you’re just hot, it’s not uncommon for people to faint in high temperatures, and he’s honestly confident in his ability to look after you. It’s very sad to see you unwell, of course, and his heart is beating fast as he takes in your slack mouth.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, cupping your cheek gently. He gives your face a little shake, reluctant to be rough with you while you’re vulnerable, even if some force would help. “Hey, can you hear me? You’re okay, can you open your eyes?”

Nothing. He leans down a touch to listen for your breath, and it’s fine, if a tad fast.

Remus comes back with a cup of water and Sirius, which is predictable but not super helpful. “Jesus,” Sirius says. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

“She’ll die of embarrassment,” Remus says.

“She’s coming around,” James says, patting your cheek, thrilled when your eyelashes twitch. “I think we should go into the break room, is it empty? We can sit her on the sofa.”

“You don’t think we should do something a bit more drastic?” Sirius asks.

James feels rather defensive of you. Remus is right, you would die of embarrassment if they called an ambulance, and he’s sure you’re fine. You have to be fine. “She just fainted, it’s so hot in here. Go open a window in the break room and we’ll wait for her to come around.”

Sirius glares playfully at being told what to do, but he goes, and Remus kneels down beside James with a cup of water. Someone from the front of the office asks if you’re alright, but James misses what they’re saying as you let out a whine.

All of a sudden, his attention is fully yours.

“Hey,” he murmurs.

Your eyes open slowly, lashes heavy like they’re thick with honey. You take in a deep, deep breath through your nose, and you blink, and you turn into his hand where it’s holding your cheek with all the familiarity of a lover. “James,” you mumble.

His stomach aches. He ignores it. “You okay? Can you look at me properly? I need to make sure you’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” you say, face pressed to his hand.

“Just look at me. Just for a second.”

You pull yourself with clear annoyance from his hand and open your eyes properly. He can pinpoint the moment you realise who he is, how you're touching, and he can’t explain the pang he gets when you rush up and away from his touch. “Oh, fuck,” you mumble, dropping your head, your fingers to your forehead and your thumb covering your eyes.

“Hey, don’t move around so much.” He continues to be soft. You might have realised who it is that’s trying to look after you, and you might not want him to, but he’ll be damned if he lets your bickering stop him from making sure you’re as okay as he’d claimed to everyone else. “Are you okay?”

“Did I…”

“You fainted. Don’t worry, I caught you. Take it easy, okay? Have this.”

He presses the cup of water into your hand.

Somewhere behind him, Remus has moved away, and is seemingly fending off the masses of people coming to offer assistance.

You see them looking at you behind him and cover your face.

James shuffles forward quickly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna let anyone see you. I’m saving this embarrassment all for myself. Please drink your water.”

“Did everybody see me fall?”

“They saw us engaged in a loving cwtch. It was very romantic.”

You sip your water. In truth, you don’t look much better for passing out, and James can’t get the feeling of your face out of his hand. He wants to touch you again, his fingers hesitating an inch from your knee.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “You don’t control the weather. Do you?”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Then why are you sorry? It was alright. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? We just want to make sure you’re okay. Sirius wanted to call an ambulance,” —you visibly baulk— “and I told him no, don’t worry. Then all the attention would be on you, and not me for my valiant rescue.”

“Was I heavy?” you ask, your mumbling nearly friendly.

“I can bench press two twenty.”

“That… doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“You’re nothing I couldn’t handle, shortcake. Do you think you can stand up? I’ll take you into the break room. You can lay down on the sofa.”

You make a soft sound James won’t soon forget and put your hand out for his help. He doesn’t have to force you. You don’t have to ask. He helps you stand and keeps an arm behind your back, shielding you from the worried and curious gazes of your coworkers.

You press your cheek to his chest.

Remus looks at you both like you’ve been body-snatched, but it’s too late to wuss out now.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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briefinquiries · 1 month

Text

Tyler Owens x Reader: Chase Your Fears

Prompt: You and your younger brother are roadtripping across the US when you encounter a tornado. Luckily, the tornado wrangler himself shows up to help.

Word count: 11k

Warnings: tornado mention

A/N: Had this cute little idea and suddenly it turned into an 11k monster fic... anyway, i will be obsessed with tyler owens & twisters for the foreseeable future, so please send recs if you want!

“What is that?”

You leaned forward in your seat and peered out the rearview mirror warily. But even with a better view, you still had no idea what you were looking at.

“Seriously,” your little brother gawked from the front seat, body twisted so that he could turn around and see. “What is that?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, knuckles turning white as you tightened your grip on the steering wheel. You kept your eyes trained on the dark clouds swirling behind you. Thankfully, all the roads out here in Oklahoma were so long and straight– otherwise, you probably would have crashed your car.

“Is that a tornado?”

“No–” you began. But even as the words left your mouth, you realized that you actually had no clue. “Well, maybe–”

As soon as you spoke, both of your phones went off– an alert warning you of severe weather in the area.

“It’s a tornado,” your brother exhaled, as he read the alert off his lockscreen. “No wonder the roads were so quiet today– we’re the only idiots dumb enough to be driving through a tornado!”

“We’re not driving through a tornado, technically we’re driving in front of one… Besides, aren’t tornadoes thinner? Like a funnel?” you said, trying desperately to lighten the mood. You thought if you stayed calm, maybe it would keep your brother calm.

“Don’t fat shame the tornado! What do we do?!”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, mouth growing increasingly dry.

“We should call Mom–”

“No, we definitely should not.”

“Why not?” you could hear the panic creeping up in his voice.

“Because,” you said calmly. “Mom’s in New Hampshire– probably crocheting a blanket as we speak. What is she going to do to help us?”

Your brother opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again like he was realizing you were right.

“Calling her is only going to make her panic halfway across the country.”

“We should call Dad then–”

“And what’s dad going to do from Texas?” you challenged.

“Maybe he’ll know what to do– he said they have tornadoes where he lives.”

You frowned. “It’s behind us– we just need to keep driving and keep it behind us.”

“Okay,” your brother said uneasily. When you glanced his way, you saw his hands positioned in his lap, trembling. Instantly, you felt your chest ache. Your parents had the two of you nearly fifteen years apart. And as his big sister, in charge of escorting him across the country so that you could both stay with your dad for the summer, you felt like it was your responsibility to keep him safe.

“I should’ve just flown,” he whimpered. “What was I thinking, doing a road trip through the midwest during tornado season?”

“Hey,” you said, reaching over to grab one of his hands. You had been the one to suggest the two of you drive to Texas together. A few weeks earlier, you had finally quit the job that had made you miserable for the last two years. It had been a long time coming, but with nothing else lined up, you’d been terrified to officially make the jump.

You hated being afraid. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was stupidity– but something inside of you was driven to face your fears. If you’re afraid, do it, you always told yourself.

So that was how you found yourself jobless at nearly twenty-eight. Currently, you were going through a transitional period that your mom liked to call your quarter-life crisis. You’d wanted a distraction– something fun to make you feel adventurous and brave and alive again. Initially, he’d been skeptical of the idea. While the two of you were close, he was cautious about spending the two weeks you’d planned out in a car together. But once you told him about your plans– stopping in New York and detouring to Nashville, he was sold.

Hearing the fact that he regretted his decision made a pool of guilt spread through your insides.

“You were thinking about how awesome it was going to be to spend two whole weeks with your sister on a road trip. I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you– We’re okay.”

He nodded slowly, although the look of terror on his face told you he didn’t entirely believe you.

“Did you know they call this area Tornado Alley?” he asked, speech rapid. “Cold air from the Rockies meets damp air from the Gulf of Mexico. It’s like… the perfect recipe for tornadoes.”

You sighed. In the past, you probably would have questioned why your New England-raised brother knew anything about tornadoes. But you’d since learned that his brain quite literally never forgot any shred of knowledge. The kid remembered everything.

“Did you know that thirty percent of the country’s total number of tornadoes is in Tornado Alley? Or at least they have been since the fifties–”

While your fight or flight response was generally more geared towards running, his was fact-spewing.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, trying not to give away the fact that the tornado in your rearview mirror was seemingly getting closer with every glance you took.

As you pressed your foot harder against the gas, you smiled towards him. “Tell me more. How do tornadoes form?”

“Well…” he began, and then he started talking rapidly about air pressure and moisture and wind speeds and other things you really didn’t understand. Truthfully, you tuned it out– your only focus on getting the two of you somewhere safe.

Your method for calming him down worked– at least until the winds increased. Then a giant chunk of debris came flying at your car, forcing you to swerve quickly.

“What was that?” he yelled, all panic that had previously faded from his voice returned in an instant.

“I don’t know–”

“Oh my God, it’s closer– it’s right behind us!”

“I know,” you said, your own voice raising. Your foot was practically touching the floor, but your car wouldn’t go any faster.

Another piece of debris– this time you recognized it as a piece of a fence, slammed into the side of your car.

“Shit!” your brother screamed. “Shit!”

“We’re okay–” you tried to assure him. “Listen to me, we’re okay– But I think I need to pull the car over.”

“What?!” he practically screamed.

“I know– I know it’s scary, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be in a car if a tornado gets too close.”

“How do you know that?!”

You furrowed your brow. “I think I heard it on the Discovery channel or something–”

“Discovery channel?!”

By now he was frantic, and you knew that you had to stay calm– no matter how panicked you were. But your brother also required plans and he required explanations– so you tried to give them to him.

“Listen to me, I am going to stop the car, and we are going to get out, leave our stuff and run, okay?”

“Run where?”

“Uh,” you stammered. Truthfully, you hadn’t gotten that far yet. You looked around, realizing that your options were incredibly limited. There was an old barn to your left– and while the shelter enticed you, it didn’t look entirely sturdy. Further down there was an actual farm house– maybe they had a storm shelter or a basement. But you had no idea if you’d make it that far.

Suddenly, an entire goddamn tree flew by your car, taking the side mirror with it.

“The farmhouse–” you said. The barn would never stand.

“Can we make it?” your brother asked.

You nodded. “We’ll make it.”

With that, you slammed on your breaks, causing your car to come to a sudden stop.

To your relief, your brother followed your instructions. He launched himself out of the car and hurried around the hood to you. You quickly grabbed his hand before turning to start towards the barn.

But before you could even move more than a few steps, a pair of headlights seemingly came out of nowhere to your right. A red truck screeched to a halt just as a man, clouded by the fog, stuck his head out and shouted, “Get in!”

“What?” you screamed over the wind.

He motioned with his thumb towards his truck. “Get. In!” he emphasized. “Now!”

Before you could hesitate or question anything, instincts kicked in. You shoved your little brother towards the man and his truck. The man had already hopped out and was opening the back door. Once you reached him, he grabbed your brother first. With ease, he lifted him into the truck.

“Buckle up–” he instructed. “See that harness strap? Put that on–” Next he turned to you, “I got gear in the seat back here, it’ll take too long to move– you’ll have to go up front.”

You nodded before hurrying to the passenger side of his truck. Without hesitating, you hoisted open the door– a task that proved to be increasingly challenging based on the wind speeds. It was like the door was suctioned to the body. You gave it a few good pulls, using all your strength, but it wouldn’t open.

You glanced at your brother through the back window and saw his eyes grow wide. He screamed your name before banging on the window– reaching for you.

“It’s okay!” you cried. “I’m okay!” Although you weren’t sure how true that would be a few moments from now.

“Shit,” you said to yourself, jostling the handle. “Shit, shit, shit–”

“It’s okay,” you heard a voice call. The man had turned the corner of the truck bed and was reaching for the door. With one strong pull, he hoisted it open. “There we go, let’s get ya inside–”

You reached up, grabbing the handle on the door while stepping up. You felt a hand on your back give you a gentle nudge as you hoisted yourself the rest of the way inside. Once you were positioned in the seat with the door closed, you watched through the windshield as the man jogged lightly around his car with ease and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Harness–” the man said, pointing towards the straps behind you before slamming his door shut.

Quickly, you shrugged them over your shoulders and fastened the buckle.

“I can’t–” you heard your brother say from behind you. When you turned in your seat, you saw that he still wasn’t buckled– his straps were tangled.

You moved your hands to your own straps to undo them, but were stopped by the man. “I got him, you stay buckled,” he said before turning to extend his torso into the backseat. “Here we go, buddy,” he said gently. You marveled how, even with a tornado barreling towards you all, the man could remain so gentle and calm. The way he talked to your brother was… well, you couldn't quite find the words for what it was, but you appreciated it. You made a mental note to thank the man for it if you made it out of this alive.

“I can’t do it–” you could hear the panic in your brother’s voice.

“It’s okay,” the man said. “I got you. I’m gonna help. Everything’s okay.”

“The tornado is right there!” he screamed, fear and anguish building in your brother’s throat.

“Try to stay calm,” you said. “We’re okay–”

“We’re NOT okay!”

“It looks closer than it is,” the man soothed. “Look at my face– do I look scared? So there’s no need for you to be scared– I got you, see? Harness is done. You’re all strapped in. Nothin’s gonna get ya.”

Swiftly, the man spun back in his seat, did up his own harness in a few seconds, and then pressed a giant, red button on a stick shift near the center console of his truck. You heard a loud sound– like gears shifting, above the whipping winds outside. And then he leaned back in his seat, checking on the storm in the rearview mirror.

“Are you going to drive?” you asked him, turning to get a look at him for the first time. He had a baseball cap resting backwards on his head and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was handsome, you realized.

The muscles of his forearms flexed as he reached for the wheel. But instead of driving anywhere, he shook his head.

“What?” you gasped. “It’s coming right for us–”

“I know– we can’t outrun it,” he explained. “So we just have to let it pass. Hang on, we’ll be okay.”

“I thought a vehicle was one of the worst places to be in a tornado–”

“It is,” he replied simply, only making your panic increase. “But we’ll be alright. Trust me.”

You were about to argue, but before you knew it, he shouted, “Hang on!” – Just as the cloud funnel consumed you.

The next seconds or minutes or hours passed in a terrifying blur. With your eyes squeezed shut and hands held over your ears, you still heard everything. You heard winds whipping against the truck, causing it to rock back and forth. You heard your brother scream from the backseat, feeling helpless because there was nothing you could do to help comfort him. You heard the slamming sound of debris– trees, fences, and whatever the hell else as it crashed into you and everything around you. You heard the ringing in your ear– like it was all too much to bear… All the while wondering which blow would be the one to kill you.

And then suddenly, you heard nothing at all. You remained frozen in place for a moment longer, in case this silence was a fluke. But then slowly, things came back into focus. You lowered your arms and opened your eyes to see the man leaned over in his seat, harness already unbuckled, while he gazed at you.

Although laced with concern, his eyes were the prettiest shade of green you’d ever seen. He really was handsome– almost shockingly so. And now, he was mouthing something– like he was trying to talk to you.

Suddenly, his voice came through the fog– soft and gentle. “Are you okay?”

You nodded slowly without actually knowing if that was the case. You’d know if you weren’t, right?

“How–” you said suddenly, turning to look outside. There was debris everywhere– tree limbs and branches, leaves and chunks of housing.

“Nothing hurts? You’re okay?”

You turned back towards him and did a quick body scan– checking in on your body before shaking your head a little more confidently. Then you remembered your brother in the backseat. You turned the best that you could with your harness still on, to glance at him.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” you heard his shaky voice ring out. You exhaled a breath of relief.

Careful not to kick you with his boots, the man maneuvered to the backseat with ease.

“Hey buddy,” you heard him say. “You alright back here?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good– you did great. Must’ve held on real tight. Can I help ya with the harness now?”

You started grasping at your own harness. Except, when you moved to adjust the buckles, you realized that your hands were shaking too hard to be of any use. No matter how hard you willed them to steady, they wouldn’t.

You continued to try until the man hopped out of the truck and came around to your side. He hoisted open the door and placed his hands on top of yours– the sudden warmth sending shock waves through your body, causing your head to shoot up.

You were met by his intense gaze for a second time, a sea of sage green took your breath away. You swallowed– realizing how dry your mouth suddenly had become. Although the pair of you were complete strangers, the man’s strong jawline flexed as he gazed at you with what looked like worry.

“We’re okay,” he assured you. “You’re alright. Can I help with the harness?”

You gave him a quick nod before dropping your shaky hand from it. When he was finished, you stripped off your harness straps and turned to hop out of the truck. As soon as you did, you saw his outstretched hand– offering to help. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took it, not trusting yourself or your unsteady legs. As soon as your feet were back on the ground, you released his hand and turned towards your brother.

“Are you okay?” you asked for a second time, a sob prickling the back of your throat. As soon as he nodded yes, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, tugging him against you. Even at twelve years old, he was almost taller than you.

“God, I’m so sorry–” you said.

“What were you guys doing out here?” the man suddenly asked. He stood with his hip popped slightly, his hands resting on the waistband of his jeans. “They’ve been announcing this storm since this mornin’.” His voice wasn’t accusatory, just generally curious.

Keeping your arm around your brother’s shoulders, you turned to face him. “We’re not from here,” you explained. “We were just driving through– we didn’t know it was coming.”

He nodded. “They can sneak up on ya sometimes. Where are y’all from?”

“New Hampshire,” you said.

The man let out a low whistle. “You’re a long way from home.”

“We were driving my dad’s,” your brother piped in. “He lives in Texas.”

“I should’ve paid more attention to the weather,” you admitted, shaking your head. “It was stupid. But thank you…” your voice trailed off, realizing you didn’t know the man’s name.

“Tyler,” he replied, extending his hand for a second time, this time for you to shake.

“Tyler,” you repeated. “Thank you Tyler, for saving us.” You quickly introduced yourself before turning and introducing your brother.

“Hang on. What were you doing out here if they’d been talking about the storm all morning?” your brother asked bluntly.

Just as you were about to give him a look that said don’t question strangers who save our lives, Tyler smiled, flashing his white teeth. “I was chasin’ her,” he said, nodding towards the tornado still spinning in the distance.

“You chase tornadoes?” your brother exclaimed.

Tyler’s grin got wider. “Sure do. That’s why my truck didn’t blow away. I got extra precautions.” Then, like he could see the eagerness in your brother’s face, he smirked. “Wanna see?”

Your brother nodded before breaking away from your embrace and racing back towards the truck– like he’d already forgotten about the tornado that almost killed you both.

“That alright with you?” Tyler asked.

You nodded, head still foggy and body still trembling. “Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, eyeing your shaky hands.

“Oh– yeah,” you said. “Just nerves… We don’t get many tornadoes up in New Hampshire, and we sure as hell don’t chase them.”

“You did good,” Tyler told you. “You stayed calm– kept him calm.”

“Thanks,” you said shyly, feeling stupid that this stranger’s compliment actually meant something to you. Then, you motioned with your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m gonna go check out my car– see how bad it is.”

With that, you left your brother with Tyler, and turned the corner of the hood of his truck, tracing your steps back to where you’d initially abandoned your car. As soon as you entered the clearing, you wished you hadn’t. There, amongst the piles of debris and chaos, was your SUV laying on its side– the front windshield completely smashed, both airbags deployed, and the doors caved in.

“Shit,” you muttered, unable to help the tears forming in your eyes. You were grateful for your brother’s safety, but you knew you couldn’t drive your car like this–

You took a few steadying breaths, reminding yourself that completely falling apart wasn’t going to be helpful. And, despite the part of you trying to avoid this, you knew that you’d have to call your parents.

You turned back towards Tyler’s truck and saw him and your brother laying on the ground– looking at something underneath the bed. That’s when you noticed two, gigantic-looking screws secured into the ground. That must have been the button Tyler pushed right before the tornado had engulfed you.

Your brother looked content for the time being, so you pulled out your phone and dialed your mom first.

She answered after only a couple of rings.

“Hi honey, how are things going?”

“Hi Mom,” you said, voice already shaking. “Don’t panic okay? We’re both alright–”

“What happened?” she said urgently, clearly doing the opposite of what you’d requested.

You sighed– might as well just come right out and say it. “We’re in Oklahoma, and a tornado just hit– like literally hit us.”

“What?” she gasped. You could already imagine her sitting up from her recliner, tossing her ball of yarn or whatever she was using to the side.

“Yeah– Some guy came and helped us. We were able to wait it out…” you paused, like you still couldn’t entirely believe what had just happened to you. “But I can’t drive my car.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Are you sure you’re alright? Where’s your brother?”

“We’re fine, Mom. The guy who helped us is still here– he’s showing him stuff in his truck to keep him busy.”

“Who is this guy?”

“Just some local– we got lucky, he knew exactly what to do.”

You heard her exhale a sharp breath.

“Mom, I don’t know what to do– We’re stranded here.”

“Oh, honey,” she sighed. “I should have never let you take him in a car. You should have just flown. Gosh, you both could’ve been killed.”

The pool of guilt grew larger inside your chest.

“I know–” you said, feeling defeated. Because she was right– what the hell were you thinking?

After a moment of silence, she sighed. “I’m so glad you’re alright. Why don’t you call your father– see how far he is? Maybe he can come and pick you up. If he can’t, call me back and we’ll figure something out..”

“Okay,” you said, voice thick with the tears you were trying not to shed.

“I love you,” she assured you.

“Love you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

With that, you hung up the phone, just as a few tears splashed down your cheeks.

After wiping them away, you glanced back towards Tyler and your brother. Tyler was helping your brother into the truck bed, where he had a bunch of gear strapped down. Your brother had a look of pure excitement plastered on his face as he looked around. You were far enough away so that you couldn’t make out what they were saying, but you could see your brother’s lips moving rapidly, totally skipping the shy-stage he normally went through when he met new people.

Like he could tell you were staring, Tyler looked up and caught your eye. Even from this distance, you saw the way his lips curled into a smile that made something in your stomach flutter. He gave you a quick wave before turning his attention back towards your brother.

Realizing your brother was in seemingly good hands, you knew you couldn’t stall calling your dad any longer. So, you pulled up his contact and dialed, preparing to give the same explanation to him as you did your mom.

“Hey kiddo!” He answered. “How’s the road trip going?”

You were nearly twenty-eight years old, but your dad still answered the phone the same way he did when you were ten.

“Hey dad,” you said. To your dismay, no matter how hard you fought it, your voice still cracked.

“Everything okay?” he asked, instantly picking up on the fact that something was wrong.

You bit your lip, fighting back tears. When you felt composed enough, you spoke. “No,” you admitted. “We’re in Oklahoma, and we got hit by a tornado while we were driving– We’re both safe, but my car is totaled– I can’t drive it.”

“Oh my God, what?” he gasped.

“I don’t know what happened– it was all so fast. I couldn’t outrun it– I tried. But there wasn’t anything we could do– it was moving so quickly and–”

“Okay, breathe,” your dad interrupted, his voice calm.

You were breathing, weren’t you? Except, when you went to inhale, you realized that no, you were not. You sucked in a breath before letting out a choppy exhale.

“Good– everything’s going to be okay. It’s just a car. They can be replaced. You’re safe, your brother is safe– that’s what’s important.”

“We’re stranded– in the middle of nowhere.”

“Well that’s all of Oklahoma, honey. Do you know what town you’re in?”

“No, but I can find out,” you said shakily. After wiping your wet cheeks the best you could, you made your way back towards the truck.

“Tyler,” you said, catching his attention. “What town are we in? My dad wants to know.”

“You’re talking to Dad?” your brother piped in. “Tell him I said hi.”

“We’re near Stillwater,” Tyler replied.

You repeated it back to your dad.

“Okay, who’s there helping you?”

“Uh this guy–” you said, turning away before Tyler could overhear. “He saved us.”

“Well I’m glad to hear that. Sounds like he was in the right place at the right time. Stillwater is about six hours north of me. How about I put you guys up in a hotel for a night then I come and get you tomorrow and we can figure everything else out?”

“Hotels are a lot… you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but it’s going to get dark before too long, and I don’t want to be driving late. I just want you both safe until then. Why don’t you see if that guy who helped you knows a place?”

“Yeah, okay,” you said, pulling the phone back again. “Hey Tyler?” you turned to see him in the same spot– still showing your brother various gadgets and gear. “Do you know of any hotels or anything nearby? I can’t drive my car– and our dad can’t get us until tomorrow.”

Tyler sucked in a breath of air. “Yikes, there ain’t much around here. Unless you want to bunk at the motel off Broadway street. I think it’s up to a 1.8 star review on Yelp, but last I knew they had a cockroach problem.”

You grimaced. “What about buses or anything that we could take to Austin?”

“You know,” Tyler began, eyes flickering into the distance before looking back at you. “I got a big ole’ farm house not too far from here with a couple of extra bedrooms. Why don’t you both just stay the night and your dad can get you from there in the mornin’?”

You immediately began shaking your head. “No–”

But your dad’s voice on the phone caught you off guard. “Let me talk to him.”

“Dad–” you protested.

But he insisted.

So, begrudgingly, that was how you found yourself passing your cell phone to Tyler.

Tyler’s eyebrow raised gently at the gesture.

“He wants to talk to you,” you explained.

Tyler pointed to himself, as if he was questioning if you meant your brother instead. “Me?”

You nodded.

Tyler reached his arm out skeptically, taking your phone, then pressed it to his ear. “Uh, hello?”

You couldn’t hear your father’s voice on the other end– just mumbling.

“Yes sir– No, that’s not necessary, I was happy to do it–” There was a brief pause. “Yes sir. Cockroaches yeah, you heard that right. I do. Right in town actually. It’s not a problem, I have the space–” Another pause. “Of course, I can send my contact info, and the address.”

You shut your eyes– as if your father was coordinating a sleepover at Tyler’s right now. It’s not like you weren’t grateful for his offer, but you felt like he’d already helped too much. First he saved your lives, now he offers shelter?

“Alright. Alright, you too. Take care.”

With that, Tyler passed you your phone back.

“Go with him,” your dad said, as soon as you held it back against your ear.

“Dad–”

“It’s one night,” he insisted. “It’s either him or the cockroaches.”

…

Less than thirty minutes later, Tyler was pulling his truck down a long, dirt driveway. Positioned at the end of it, set back with the setting sun as a backdrop, was an old, white farmhouse with a wrap around porch and blue shutters.

“You live here?” you asked in awe.

Tyler smiled. “Been in my family for a long time.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said, eyes now scanning the amount of land he had. There was a wheat field to the right, and to the left was a sturdy-looking barn with an exterior that matched the house.

“Technically it belongs to my aunt. But she’s living it up in Tulsa right now, so I stay here– maintain the place for her. It’ll be mine one day.”

“Do you have horses?” your brother asked from the backseat.

Tyler’s grin stretched the length of his face. “Sure do. Let’s get you guys cleaned up and fed, then we can see them later.”

Tyler unloaded the suitcases you’d recovered from your SUV and carried them inside for you, despite your protests. You were quickly learning that Tyler was a gentleman– always holding doors and offering his hand to help. Each time he went out of his way to help you, it caused strange feelings to stir up inside of you– ones that you had no business feeling about a man you’d just met.

The interior of the farmhouse was just as beautiful as the outside. Tyler showed you around the first floor, pointing out the kitchen, bathroom, and living room before walking your luggage up the stairs to where the bedrooms and second bathroom were.

“Both rooms have double beds– there’s only a shower, it’s in the bathroom up here. But feel free to use it. Towels and washcloths are in that closet there– extra blankets are in the chests at the end of the beds.”

“Thank you,” you said again, finally taking your luggage from him. “This is…” you shook your head. “You’ve been really kind, thank you.”

“My pleasure– only the best for my first New Hampshire guests,” he said cheekily. Then, Tyler clasped his hands together. “Alright, well I’ll leave you guys to it. Come on down whenever you’re ready, I’ll whip up something to eat. Y’all like burgers?”

Your brother’s face lit up. “Love them!”

“Sounds great,” you replied.

“Coupla’ burgers comin’ right up then,” Tyler smirked.

“He’s so cool,” your brother muttered before grabbing his bag and heading off to claim a bedroom.

Cool was one word for him, you thought.

…

You took longer in the shower than expected. Probably because every time you closed your eyes to rinse the shampoo out of your hair, all you could see was that goddamn tornado barreling towards you. Each and every time, it made your entire body lurch– causing you to snap open your eyes with a sense of urgency.

Even though you were just showering– it felt like you were outside running… your breath was choppy and your heart was racing just standing there.

You forced yourself to unclench your jaw, worried that your molars were going to crack with how tense you were. Eventually, you gave up and decided to just keep your eyes open while you rinsed your hair out.

When you were finished, you threw on a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt from your suitcase before heading downstairs to join your brother and Tyler. You could smell the burgers before you even got to the kitchen, making your mouth water.

“There’s New Hampshire,” Tyler grinned, seemingly proud of the nickname he’d given you. He was behind the island, setting a steaming pot down on a cooling plate next to a few empty plates stacked on top of each other.

Your brother sat on a stool at the island– his hair still damp from his own shower, nibbling on a piece of plain white bread while he watched Tyler maneuver around the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” you asked. As soon as you spoke, you could hear the shakiness in your tone. You’d been trying to ignore how tight your chest still felt, but you’d have to do better at hiding it if you wanted to evade detection.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on you for a moment before Tyler shook his head. “Nah, I’m almost done. I got burgers on the grill, some corn, and leftover pasta salad from my mom– you gotta try it.”

He handed you and your brother each an empty plate before taking the lid off the corn pot.

“I’ll go grab the burgers, but help yourself.”

With that, he was disappearing out the back door.

“How’re you doing?” you asked your brother once you were alone.

“Hungry,” he said as he piled a mound of pasta salad on his plate.

You reached over and ran your hands through his hair before shaking his head lightly. “I don’t mean that– I mean how’re you doing after everything today? That was a lot.”

Or at least it had been for you…

Your brother shrugged. “It was scary, but I’m okay now. Statistically speaking tornadoes never strike the same place twice. So that one’s gone for good. And Tyler said the likelihood of another one hitting the area is extremely low.”

“That’s right,” Tyler said, as he reentered the kitchen with a plate stacked full of burgers.

You watched him move through the kitchen with ease, pleasantly surprised by the fact that he’d obviously helped to reassure your brother.

“You want one or two burgers?” Tyler asked him.

Your brother held up two fingers with one hand and his plate with the other.

“What do you say?” you mumbled, nudging him in the side.

“Please,” he said, flashing his teeth.

“You got it,” Tyler chuckled.

With a full plate, your brother headed for the dining room, leaving you and Tyler alone in the kitchen.

“How are you doing?” Tyler asked as he passed you the plate of burgers.

“Me?” you said, trying your best to sound casual. Apparently you were the only one even remotely freaked out by the fact that a tornado had almost killed all of you today. “Oh, I’m alright. Much better after showering– thank you again.”

“You gotta stop thanking me, really it’s not a problem. I wouldn’t have offered if it was,” How are you really doing though?”

You glanced up, surprised to see Tyler’s concerned gaze fixated on you. He’d ditched the baseball hat, allowing you to see his sandy brown hair for the first time. It was slightly disheveled, but so soft. The way it was pushed back from his face made it look like Tyler had been running his fingers through it– a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing.

Quickly, you averted your gaze back to your plate. “I’m fine.”

“Really?” he challenged you. “Because it’s okay not to be okay after getting hit by a tornado– especially for the first time.”

It was like he could sense how anxious you really were– like one of those emotional support animals. Or maybe you just didn’t have the poker face you thought you did.

“I was just worried for my brother,” you said, taking a spoonful of pasta salad. “But it seems like you managed to calm his nerves.”

“Yeah, well, kids are all the same. They just need reassurance. They wanna feel safe.”

Now was your chance to poke a little deeper– to shift the conversation off from you, but also to learn something about Tyler. “Do you have kids?” you asked, trying to make the question sound casual.

“No,” he answered quickly. “Got a niece and a nephew though. They live in Texas, so I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like. Do you?” Tyler asked, glancing over. When he caught your confused expression, he added, “Have kids?”

“Oh, no,” you said, shaking your head. “God, no. You saw what happened today– I have my brother for less than two weeks and I almost got him killed. Imagine if I had an actual child?”

“You didn’t almost get him killed,” Tyler refuted. “You had no way of knowing that thing was comin’.”

“You knew it was coming,” you challenged.

Tyler shrugged. “Well that’s ‘cause I’m a professional.”

“I didn’t know you could be a professional tornado-chaser,” you said teasingly, finally picking up your plate to head to the table.

Tyler followed close behind, choosing a seat across from you and your brother. “I prefer the name tornado wrangler, myself.”

“Tornado wrangler?” you repeated skeptically.

“That’s right,” he smirked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“You’re such a badass,” your brother said between bites. He was already halfway done his food. You felt another pang of guilt– he really was hungry.

“So what does a tornado wrangler do exactly?” you asked.

Tyler chewed his food for a moment before answering. “Well, we have a YouTube channel. And we livestream videos of us headin’ into storms. We offer our viewers a close look at the tornadoes– a view most of them will never see in real life.”

“We? You mean there’s more than just one of you crazy enough to chase those things?”

Tyler’s face was full-on beaming now, and you could tell just how passionate he really was about all of this. Even if it scared the absolute shit out of you– you loved to hear him talk about it.

“I got a whole team– there’s Boone, he’s my buddy behind the camera, he takes care of the livestream and the editing when we need it. Then I got Lilly, she operates our drone. That helps give us alternative coverage and vantage points when we need it. Dexter and Dani both help with storm tracking– but Dani also helps fix the gear and stuff when we need it.”

“What’s the scariest tornado you’ve ever seen?” your brother asked, pieces of burger flying out of his mouth while he spoke.

“Chew your food before talking,” you said under your breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Tyler let out a soft chuckle, his eyes flickering to yours before turning back to your brother. “I think the scariest tornado I’ve ever seen was when I was about your age– My mom and I got caught up in an EF 4 while we were drivin’. It picked us right up– dropped us in a field about half a mile away.”

“EF 4?” you asked cluelessly.

“It’s the Enhanced Fujita Scale,” your brother replied. “It measures the tornado's speed and estimated damage.”

“That’s right,” Tyler smiled, like he was proud of your brother for knowing. “They measure on a scale of 0-5.”

“What was the one that hit us today?” you asked warily.

“Today was an EF1,” Tyler answered.

All the blood drained from your face. “A one?” you gaped.

In the midst of taking a bite of corn, he nodded.

“You’re telling me that thing could have been worse?”

The corner of Tyler’s lip twitched upwards. “A lot worse,” he said grimly. “That’s why it was safe to stay in my truck. We drive her into zero’s and one’s all the time, she handles a two pretty good. Even managed a three once.”

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

The rest of the evening consisted of your brother bombarding Tyler with questions about his job– how many tornadoes had he seen? What was an EF5 like? Had he ever seen a cow fly through the air like in the movies?

But you had a hard time listening after a while– each additional fact you learned about tornadoes made your skin crawl. Your heart rate had picked up again– similar to how it was in the shower. It was taking all of your energy to just appear normal while you picked at the remaining food on your plate.

Why would anyone willing chase one of those things? What you witnessed today was one of the smallest possible tornadoes– and it was still terrifying. You couldn’t imagine if you’d been out there faced by something worse.

Their conversation eventually became muffled background noise, something that nestled in the back of your mind while you tried to focus on your breath and willed yourself not to shake.

That is, until you feel something boney jab in your side, making everything come back into focus again.

“What?” you asked, turning cluelessly towards your brother.

“Tyler asked if you were done,” he said, nodding towards your plate.

“Oh–” you said, embarrassed. That’s when you noticed Tyler was now standing, arm extended like he was reaching for your dish. “Yeah– yeah, I’m done.”

He moved to collect your plate for you but you stopped him. “No, I’ll get these– you guys talk.”

“You sure?” he asked warily.

“Yeah, I’m sure– You cook and house us, I can do some dishes.”

With a brief, unconvincing smile, you quickly gathered as much as you could in your arms and fled into the kitchen for some space.

What the hell was wrong with you? It was like you couldn’t catch your breath, no matter how hard you tried.

As you scrubbed at the dishes, arms extended under warm water, you tried desperately to get it together. No one had died– no one had even gotten hurt. Plus, like Tyler had told your brother– the probability of this happening again was incredibly slim. So why couldn’t you stop feeling like that EF1 was consuming you?

By the time you were finished with the dishes, your hands were shaking so bad, you could barely set them on the drying rack. So, you snapped off the water and leaned against the counter, gripping the lip of it tightly and taking some deep breaths. Vaguely, you heard your little brother’s laughter from the other room. You latched onto the sound and tried to let it soothe you.

Everyone was okay.

He’s laughing– he’s having fun. You’re all okay.

After his laughter stills, you hear the sound of chair legs sliding across the floor. “I’m gonna go grab some water, you want any dessert, big guy? I got ice cream.”

“No thanks, I’m full from the burgers.”

Tyler chuckled. “Alright, be right back.”

Quickly, you swallowed the lump in your throat and started putting the condiments away, trying to look as normal as possible before Tyler approached.

“Thanks for doing all of those,” Tyler said once he got to the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, it’s the least I could do,” you said, turning to face him.

“My mom would kill me if she knew I let my guest do the dishes.”

“My mom would kill me if she knew I let someone save, cook, and house me without me doing the dishes.”

Tyler grinned. “Fair enough, New Hampshire.”

“You keep calling me that,” you said. “But I don’t actually live in New Hampshire, you know?”

Tyler’s eyebrow curled up in an expression that said tell me more.

“My mom and brother live there. I used to live there. But now I have an apartment in Boston, been there since college.”

“Boston?” Tyler repeated. “Ah, so you’re like a nine-to-five city girl.”

You frowned. “Not anymore,” you admitted. “It was killing me. Especially in the winter– you go to work before the sun’s up, and you’re out after it sets. I couldn’t do it anymore, so I recently quit.”

“What’re you gonna do now?” he inquired.

You shrugged. “I’m trying to figure that out. Probably move somewhere with less concrete, and hopefully find a job that lets me out before the sun sets.”

Tyler set his glass of water on the kitchen island. “So what you’re saying is I can’t call you New Hampshire or Boston?”

“You got a problem with just using people’s names?”

Tyler shrugged. “I like nicknames. Shows that someone’s special to ya.”

You felt like your feet had been knocked out from underneath you. You cleared your throat before looking away, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You know, I don’t mean to pry,” Tyler said, changing the subject. “But are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly.

“I just– at dinner you seemed a little zoned out.”

“I’m just tired,” you lied.

Tyler paused, eyes scanning you sincerely. His gaze felt like it could set you on fire– like every inch of your skin was set ablaze. Ultimately, he decided to back off. “Okay then,” he said. “I’ll finish up here, why don’t you guys get settled for bed? It’s been a long day.”

“Okay– yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Pushing off the counter, you brushed past him, pausing only when you got to the doorframe.

“Tyler?”

He spun around quickly.

“I know you said to stop thanking you but seriously… Thank you. For everything.”

His lips curled upwards in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes the way you’d already learned you liked. He gave a curt nod. “I’m happy to do it, New Hampshire,” he said, sticking with his original nickname.

You made your way upstairs to bed with your little brother and a stupid smile plastered on your face.

…

“We have to move!” you shouted, hoping your brother could hear you above the wind.

But instead of reacting or doing anything at all, he just stood there– his back towards you while he stared at the swirling clouds in the distance.

“Hey!” you screamed. “We gotta go!”

You took a step forward– but weren’t any closer to him.

Frowning, you took another step– then another. But the distance remained the same. Screaming his name, you pleaded with him to turn around. If he didn’t move, you were both going to die– the tornado had touched down. It was barrelling right for you. It was sucking roofs off houses, and breaking fences into tiny pieces. Debris flew all around at what seemed like a hundred miles per hour– shards of glass, pieces of plywood. Something was going to hit you– or worse, your brother.

You were running now, trying desperately to reach him. If you could just get there in time, maybe you could grab his arm and pull him away in time.

But it was no use– you were too slow. And the tornado was so fast. Right before your eyes– you saw your brother get sucked into the funnel– his entire frame flying up in the air.

You screamed–

He screamed back– you heard your name echo through the storm.

He was calling for you– begging for you to save him.

You screamed louder–

Then you heard a voice yell. Except, this voice didn’t match your brothers—it was too deep and less familiar. Your body tensed as you were jostled.

With force, your eyes finally snapped open, revealing the vaguely familiar room around you. The moonlight poured through the curtain that you forgot to close and revealed Tyler’s worried-looking face peering over her. His green eyes were blown open and wide, his lips slightly parted as his gaze raked over the length of you.

“Tyler–” you croaked.

“There you are,” he exhaled. “You’re okay, you’re at my house– you’re safe.”

You opened your mouth, instantly trying to think of a way to brush this whole thing off– maybe make a joke or something to ease the tension. But instead of finding words, a choppy, uneven huff of air poured out of you. You tried again, but this time all you could do was desperately gasp– like you couldn’t get enough air in your lungs.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tyler said. You felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you. Without even thinking, you reached out for him– fingers clasping onto the fabric of his white t-shirt. He placed his hands on top of yours and gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Baby, you’re okay,” he said. If you could breathe, you might have melted at the pet name he gave you. Instead, your wild eyes searched his desperately. “I got you. Breathe with me– look.” Tyler took a couple of deep breaths, exaggerating the act so that you’d copy him. You tried, but ended up just choking harder.

“Just do it with me.”

With an intense amount of concentration, you were finally able to latch onto the sound of Tyler breathing. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

“There you go,” he soothed. “You got it.”

You’re not sure how long the two of you stayed like that– but eventually, your breathing returned to normal.

That’s when the embarrassment kicked in. Because how utterly mortifying to be a guest at someone’s home and to wake them up screaming because of some stupid nightmare.

“I’m so–”

“Don’t even think about apologizing,” Tyler said gently. “You got nothing to be sorry for.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but then realized there was no point. Tyler would just refute whatever you said. So instead, you asked the question that had been burning in your brain since you got to the farm house.

“Why am I so affected by this and no one else is? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Tyler assured you instantly. “In fact, you’re probably the only normal one in this house– most people get freaked out after bein’ near a tornado, much less in the middle of one. I have this weird thing goin’ on where I just feel more alive if my life’s in danger, and no offense but I think your brother’s brain might be wired a little differently than most.”

You let out a genuine laugh– the first of the night. “He’s on the spectrum,” you explained. “You’re really good with him, you know? Most people just think he’s odd and ignore him. But not you– you actually talk to him.”

Tyler smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did. “He’s a good kid.”

You nodded in agreement. “You know he didn’t even want to come on this road trip with me? He wanted to fly to my dad’s– but I talked him into it. I’ve felt so lost since quitting my job and I needed a distraction. I used my little brother as a distraction.”

“Wanting to spend time with someone doesn’t mean you’re using them. It seems like he’s having a good time,” Tyler said. “He told me all about the Titanic museum you took him to in Nashville.”

You chuckled. “He loves disasters. It’s kind of his thing. That’s why he knows so much about tornadoes–”

“And today he got to see one– up close. I bet he’ll tell that story for the rest of his life.”

“The story about how his older sister almost got him killed,” you said, head hanging with shame.

“The story of how his big sister stayed so incredibly calm, even though she was terrified– just so that she could make sure he was okay. The big sister who kept him safe even though they got caught in a tornado.”

You glanced up towards Tyler to see him looking at you with what looked like yearning in his expression. You wanted to just lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck– let him hold you and comfort you and tell you that everything was going to be alright. You couldn’t know for sure but he just looked like he gave the best hugs. Instead though, you tried to come to your senses. You blinked harshly, and glanced down at the blankets pooled in your lap.

“I hate being afraid,” you admitted. “I know it’s normal– and it keeps us safe. But it makes me feel weak.”

“I get it,” Tyler replied. “That’s why I started the channel. I was sick of being afraid of ‘em, so I decided to chase ‘em instead.”

“Yeah, well maybe I’ll have to tag along with your team on the next one,” you joked.

Tyler’s face lit up. “You could, you know. We go all the time– and it’s tornado season in Oklahoma so we probably wouldn't have to wait that long to find one.”

He couldn’t possibly be serious– but the look on his face told you that he was.

“My dad’s getting us tomorrow,” you reminded him.

All the excitement on Tyler’s face fell– making something inside of you fall with it. “Right,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course, yeah.”

“But maybe I’ll tune into your channel,” you offered, hoping to get even a hint of that excitement back. You hated seeing him disappointed.

Tyler smiled, “You better,” he teased, nudging your leg through the blanket. “Hey, I don’t know about you, but I’m probably not going to get much sleep tonight. You want some tea or somethin’?”

You couldn’t help but nod– it was hard to say no to him.

…

You and Tyler ended up talking through most of the night. The more you talked, the more you realized he was someone you could really see yourself falling for. He made you laugh– and not the fake kind you did to avoid hurting someone’s feelings, either. On several occasions, he had you curled over, shaking with laughter because of something he said. And he was a good listener– always asking follow-up questions or inquiring more.

Before you knew it, six entire hours had passed and the sun was rising on the east side of the barn, shining golden light through the gaps in the curtains.

You had found yourself curled up in the living room, back pressed against the arm of the couch and facing Tyler. He shifted in his seat, and, without thinking, you tucked your feet underneath his thigh, causing him to hiss.

“Your feet are freezing,” he gasped playfully, but he didn't pull away.

You laughed in response, digging them further underneath his legs.

“I can feel them through my pants,” he said, laughing with you.

“It’s morning,” you observed, unable to believe that you spent an entire night talking to him.

He bit his lip and nodded. “Time flies.” He chuckled lightly before standing up from the couch, leaving your feet feeling cold again, and walking into the adjoined kitchen. You followed him awkwardly, just a step or two behind. You watch as he retrieved two mugs from a tall cabinet and placed them on the countertop.

“Coffee?” he asked, nonchalantly, holding the cup up as an offering.

You sighed a breath of relief at the thought of coffee– especially after only an hour or two of sleep. “Yes. Please.”

Tyler rummaged around the kitchen for a few minutes, putting the coffee on before peering into the fridge. He pulled some items out, placing them gently on the counter behind him. His back was turned towards you for the most part, and you couldn’t help but watch him as he moved. It was a nice view, you thought.

“Do you like eggs?” Tyler’s words interrupted your staring. “I have some bacon, too.”

“You’re making breakfast?” You asked, your tone sounding sharper than intended through your disbelief. First saving your life, then dinner, then a place to sleep, then comforting you during a nightmare, now breakfast…

Tyler nodded, “I’m a breakfast guy. Unless you’re not hungry,” he said, backtracking quickly. “I just thought–”

You could sense the panic in his voice, almost as if he was just as nervous as you. You quickly spoke up to reassure him. “No- I love breakfast. I just wasn’t expecting any, is all.”

Tyler subtly exhaled a breath of relief. “Yeah well, be sure to give me a five star review. I’m competing with the cockroach motel for business. Scrambled okay?” he asked, motioning towards the eggs.

You nodded before taking a seat at the island.

Tyler continued to work with his back to you, arms moving a bit as he scrambled the eggs that were cooking in the pan. When he was finished, he pulled out three plates and portioned some into each. Then he moved to throw the toast and sausage he’d also made on top.

Because your brother wasn’t up yet, Tyler set a paper towel over his plate, preserving it for now before traveling to your side of the island and taking a seat right beside you.

The two of you ate breakfast, your conversation never faltering. You talked about school– what you studied, who your roommates were. You talked about jobs and family– one conversation just naturally progressing to the next.

After about half an hour, your brother staggered downstairs– his hair poking out in all directions informing you that he slept “like a baby.” Tyler listened to him talk about his dream– something about robots chasing tornadoes. Tyler asked him follow up questions, too– like what kind of robots they were and what kind of truck they used to chase the tornadoes.

Tyler was kind of beautiful, you found yourself quickly realizing. Not that you hadn’t noticed how attractive he was before– of course you had… Practically the first moment you laid your eyes on him after your life was in danger. But Tyler smiled this giant smile as he let your brother talk his ear off about stuff you knew he couldn’t possibly care about. But he pretended to– and his eyes got crinkly and his laugh came straight from his belly.

You supposed you could blame your fluttering stomach on the adrenaline still coursing through your system after being attacked by a tornado and then having a panic attack last night. Your skin felt electrified. But you knew that the trauma you’d endured had nothing to do with it. You knew it could only be Tyler that was making you feel this way. And you’d only known the man for about sixteen hours by now, but you couldn’t deny what you already felt for him.

It felt easy with Tyler. And although you spent the night before pretending you were fine– you realized that you didn’t have to. He was someone you could just be authentic with.

Your dad reached out to you shortly after seven, informing you he was on the road and would be in Stillwater just around noon.

You found yourself dreading having to say goodbye to Tyler before the moment even came.

In the meantime, he took the time to show your brother the horses, letting him spend as much time with them as he wanted. Then he gave him a full tour of the barn– chickens and cows alike.

You were outside, watching your brother be brave enough to approach one of the horses that Tyler had ensured was friendly when his phone went off beside you.

Tyler pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID before sliding his thumb across the screen.

“Hey Boone,” he answered. “No, I haven’t looked yet. Why? Oh is it? Where?”

You tried not to eavesdrop, but you really couldn’t help it.

“What time are they thinking? Yeah, no. I’m busy until noon. Three’s perfect. Alright– see you then, bye.”

He slid his phone back in his pocket with ease, his attention falling to you.

“Another tornado?” you asked, eyebrows raised skeptically.

He smirked. “Can’t stop weather, New Hampshire. Invite’s still there if you wanna tag along.”

…

Despite how badly you wanted time to stretch on forever, your father’s truck rode into the driveway just before after noon.

Tyler took all your luggage downstairs and loaded it into the truck while the three of you reunited. You met your dad halfway between his car and the porch, letting him pull you in for a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he murmured into your hair before reaching for your brother. When he was done embracing you both, he held his hand out towards Tyler.

“Thank you, son,” he said genuinely. “For being there for them.”

“My pleasure, sir,” Tyler replied, shaking his hand firmly.

To your surprise, after everything was loaded in the car, your brother ran right up to Tyler and wrapped his arms around his waist– offering him a hug. Your brother rarely showed affection to those within his family– let alone people outside of it. In your eyes, that was further evidence of how special Tyler really was.

Tyler hugged him back before ruffling his hair affectionately. “Take care, bud. Thanks for helpin’ me with the horses today. You gonna come back and visit soon?”

He nodded eagerly– to your delight, the pair had exchanged numbers.

“Alright c’mon,” your dad said, ushering your brother to the car and leaving you and Tyler alone.

“What about you?” Tyler asked, taking a step closer to you. “Are you gonna come back and visit soon?”

Your entire insides erupted– like molten lava was encasing everything inside of you. You could smell the aftershave he’d splashed on his neck and wanted nothing more than for it to just engulf you entirely. “That depends,” you said, standing your ground as he took another step forward.

“On what?” he asked gently, reaching across the small space between you to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. It was a simple, yet incredibly intimate action that made your knees feel wobbly.

“Are you going to drive me into the middle of a tornado?”

“I might.”

You smirked. “Well then, I guess I might come back.”

“Lord help me if you do, New Hampshire.”

You knew your dad was right behind you– but you couldn’t help but wish Tyler would kiss you right then and there– prove to you that he felt the same things you were feeling. Then maybe you could leave behind your dad and brother and stay a little longer with Tyler. But that was too big of a risk without the confirmation. You looked at him eagerly, willing him to say something.

“So I guess I’ll see ya around,” he said, making your shoulders fall.

It felt so final.

“See ya around,” you replied, hating to admit how disappointed you actually felt. You offered him one final smile before turning around and jogging back towards your dad’s truck.

…

“You’re an idiot,” your brother said from the backseat, catching you off guard.

“Excuse me?” you said, turning to face him.

“Why didn’t you stay? I heard Tyler invite you like three times.”

You frowned. “He didn’t mean it. He was just being nice.”

“I don’t think Tyler says things he doesn’t mean,” he said simply.

You heard your dad let out a choked laugh from beside you.

“I can’t just stay at Tyler’s house–” you said. “That’s crazy. We’re going back to Texas.”

“Actually, I already drove six hours today,” your dad said. “I really don’t want to drive another six, so I was planning on grabbing a hotel. We could just pick you up later,” he suggested.

“Or not,” your brother piped in.

You bit your lip– and really considered the possibility of taking Tyler up on his offer. But that was crazy– you barely knew him. What if he didn’t really mean it– what if he was just trying to be nice?

“I think you’re just afraid,” your brother said.

“Afraid?” you said with disbelief. “Of what?”

“Tornadoes, rejection, love… you name it.”

God, you hated being afraid.

…

Tyler watched as your dad’s truck got smaller as it drove further away. He kicked himself for not trying harder, for not doing more to convince you to stay. He knew he couldn’t force you, and the last thing he wanted to be was too pushy, but damn he wished you’d taken the bait.

He could’ve kissed you– God, he wanted to. But your dad’s gaze was lingering warily and he just couldn’t take the chance. What if you pulled away? What if you were insulted? What if he’d read all these signs totally wrong?

He’d never felt anything like how he felt around you. And he just knew that the sound of your laugh would hold a spot in his heart forever.

But maybe this was how your story was supposed to end– like a tornado. No matter how badly he wanted it to last forever, eventually they all fizzled out to blue skies.

Full of self-pity, Tyler was just about to turn and head back into the house when he saw the brake lights of your dad’s truck turn on. In the distance, he watched as you climbed carefully out of the front seat, hoist open the back door, and haul your luggage out.

His heart fluttered at the sight. But when he saw you grab your bag and start jogging back towards him like you had a purpose, he felt like his chest might explode.

You wanted to stay–

With a newfound confidence, Tyler began running towards you, kicking up dirt and rocks as he went.

When he reached you– just past the mailbox in the road, you offered him a small smile.

“You came back,” he observed.

You shrugged your shoulders, slightly out of breath. “I did.”

“Why?” he dared to ask.

You paused, like you were really thinking about his question. After a moment, you said, “I think the one thing that scares me more than tornadoes right now is you,” you admitted to him. “And I really hate being afraid.”

Tyler was pleasantly surprised when you started stepping forward. He matched your efforts and soon– you were almost chest to chest. He glanced down at you with awe.

“Some cocky YouTube star once told me that you should chase your fears,” you said breathlessly.

Tyler couldn't contain the smile that was spreading across his entire face. “He sounds like a really smart guy, you should introduce me–”

“Will you shut up and please just kiss–”

Before you could even get the words out, Tyler reacted the way his body wanted him to. Firmly but gently, he cupped your jaw with one hand, the other arm curling around your back.

And then, right there on the lone dirt road that always had a way of feeling like home, he kissed you with everything he had.

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