#I’ve missed you cash

[godofstupidsentences]

I have SO MANY THOUGHTS about the new heartbreak high s2 trailer

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.

ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!

alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem

➸ masterlist

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts

2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting 

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah

2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up

2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?

3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you

3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up

3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy

3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow

3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself 

3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE

3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here

3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(

3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼 

The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer. 

But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was. 

The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.

He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal. 

Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough  testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far. 

He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).

He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.

It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.

But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.

“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.” 

There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?

The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft. 

Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji. 

So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.

You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.

“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”

He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.

If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin. 

“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.

“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”

He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more? 

He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.

The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.

So much for no flirting.

6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet

7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen

7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any  7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy

7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????

7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?

7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY

7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?

7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story. 

But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was. 

4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(

5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]

5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!

5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume

5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?

5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah

5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something

5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him

5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.

5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.

Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.

But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad. 

“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.

“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”

“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”

Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it. 

Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.

“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.

Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.

“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.

Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.

“Where the fu—…where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.

Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”

Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.

He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.

But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.

Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.” 

Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”

“Yeah. Bros.”

The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.

“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.

Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”

The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them. 

This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood. 

His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.

1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m 

He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.

1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy

His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.

1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?

1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that

1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge

1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((

He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you. 

1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething 

His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up. 

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of  1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me

His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.

Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.

“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.

Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.

He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them. 

There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.

“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”

Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”

Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.

Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.”

“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.

He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena. 

The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.

The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.

Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games. 

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.

His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.

Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.

Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast. 

Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!

There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.

He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!

He feels like throwing up. 

Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.

Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.

His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them. 

What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?

Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.

He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.

“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet. 

Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.

The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off. 

Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.

He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”

“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”

“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”

Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.

He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.

He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.

Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?

He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight. 

He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.

He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,

3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time 

—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue. 

“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath. 

You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm. 

Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet. 

You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.

And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.

You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.

In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?

The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so…confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.

You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.

You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—

3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time 

It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.

I think about fucking you all the time

At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you? 

Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.

But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.

Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.

You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.

But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.

And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it. 

You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—

10:34am you: do it then

—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty. 

He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.

“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.

“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.

“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to. 

“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue. 

The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.

“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up his neck, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.

“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you. 

“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.

He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”

Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”

“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”

He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”

There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—

Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.

The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.

He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.

“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.

“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”

Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.” 

“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”

“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.

Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough. 

Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.

“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”

He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad. 

Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.

The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.

“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.

He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.

“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”

“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”

“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.

“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable. 

“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.

His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.

“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.

“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”

He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”

You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”

“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”

“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”

“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”

Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest. 

“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.   

“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him. 

“I—” He stops himself.

Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.

“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”

You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”

He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.

You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!

This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.

“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”

“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking. 

He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.

3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3

➸ masterlist

taglist:

@joemama-2 @erencvlt @pickuptruck01 @hanakotateyama @nuronhe

@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

@sirencholia @sorcerersseestars @horisdope @to-dabi @staoru

@aliidarling @ninjaturtletoes @lavender-hvze @lanadelreylover11 @chckn-pi

@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy

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@verystrawberryhottub @iheartshopping @peonysfordayz @dreamsxmerci @aishies-stuff

@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

[angelicsoka]

THE HAT RULE, t. owens

word count | 1.7k words

pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader

summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is. 

warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended. 

a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.

the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through  your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel. 

tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.

that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.

“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.

“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare. 

“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles. 

“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.

“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.

“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.

“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:

“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.

by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.

“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”

“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”

“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks. 

“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–”  you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.

“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave. 

you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties. 

your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.

“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more. 

you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.

“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.

“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head. 

as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.

“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”

“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.” 

[raeathnos]

.

[rafesweetie]

⋆˚࿔ espresso ꥟ ˚⋆ — sunny!reader x rafe

“ walked in and dream-came-trued for ya! “

i believe the saying goes, “she was like a shot of espresso.” rafe didn’t think that saying could fit a person more than it could fit you.

he’d see you at parties, dancing with his sister or giggling with the pogues. you never could seem to pick a side. this whole pogue vs kook rivalry never crossed your mind, for you were simply friends with everyone in kildare. he’d see you at the beach with your friends, tanning while listening to silly pop music and sipping on a fruity canned drink. you reminded him of the sun.

there was one night where sarah cameron invited you to her place for a start-of-summer party. rafe was dealing some coke, as per usual, and his eyes followed you as you walked in, holding hands with sarah while she led you inside. he’d never understood why girls held hands with each other, but wheezie said that it’s a universal girl thing, and he ‘would never get it.’

topper elbowed rafe out of his trance, laughing about how rafe had a little crush.

“nah, nah,” rafe denied instantly. “isn’t she a pogue?”

topper shakes his head. “nope. she just hangs out with them. her parents own that flashy smoothie shop, she’s a kook,”

“…oh, that’s good,” rafe mutters. he can’t quite avert his gaze from you.

“aw man, you’re desperate,” kelce is on his other side, patting his back, making rafe grunt and shoo him off. rafe can’t relate to desperation.

his night goes on per usual, getting bundles of cash handed to him as he deals. until topper speaks up after a bit. “she just broke up with pope,” he informs rafe. “she’s on the market,”

“yeah?” rafe checks.

“yeah. you should go talk to her,”

rafe hesitates, staring at you again. you’re not a dancer by any means, but both you and sarah are wiggling your shoulders a bit when a good song comes up. rafe would assume you’re drunk, the way your giggles echo through the room and the way you spill your drink when you stumble into sarah. but he thinks that’s just you, drunk on life. he eventually speaks. “no fucking way, she’s with my sister right now. sarah would lose her shit if i talked to little miss sunshine over there,”

“yeah, well, need i remind you i’m dating sarah, so i’ll just get her away, go make out for a bit, she looks drunk,” topper offers.

“…a’ight. yeah, lets do it bro.” rafe agrees, and they both get up off the couch. rafe stands a little bit away as he grabs another vodka pink lemonade for you, maybe a subtle bribe into talking, and a beer for himself. topper talks to sarah for a bit, greets you, then leads sarah away.

rafe’s literally directly behind you, when suddenly you’re already talking to someone else. you’re pretty chatty, it seems. rafe hangs around to catch you after your next conversation. but then he looks away for one second, then you’re gone again. he spots you on the balcony, with jj maybank. then a couple minutes later, you’re with kie carrera. then you’re shotgunning a drink with sofia. holy shit. you’ve got him wrapped around your finger already, and he looks so cute chasing after you. if he’s not pushy, he’ll never get his chance. so, channeling his inner ward cameron, he spots you with ruthie (who he never would’ve assumed you would associate with. maybe you’re just being polite), and he puts a hand on your shoulder from behind, spinning you around. “y/n. right?”

you blink, not expecting the sudden interruption. but you regain yourself quickly, smiling. “hi! yeah, i am,” you say. your voice sounds as sweet as honey. “you’re rafe cameron?”

you know who he is? he shouldn’t be surprised, you seem to know everyone, but he likes that you know, anyway. “uh, yeah, yeah, that’s me,”

“well it’s so nice to meet you,” you smile up at him. “it’s funny, sofia used to mention you a lot, and obviously im close friends with your sister. but i’ve never met you before,”

“..you’re friends with sofia?” is all he can think to ask.

“mhm. i’ve known her since grade 5. we’re not like, super close now, but we were when you guys dated,” sensing his sudden aversion to talking about her, his ex girlfriend, you shut up. “um, wanna go grab a drink?”

“oh— shit, yeah, um, brought one for you, actually,” he hands you the vodka pink lemonade. “saw you drinking one earlier, so..”

“oh my gosh, thank you so much,” you say. is he that sweet? you guess so.

“yeah, ‘course. heard sarah talk about you, and it’s all been good things, so i figured i’d try and meet you myself,”

“well now you have. i’ve heard her talk about you too,” you don’t have the heart to say it hasn’t been very good things.

it feels like this awkward small talk is going in circles. but maybe that’s a good, slow way to start something.

your name is suddenly called by a group of girls a couple meters away. “it was so nice to meet you rafe. i should go, they want me,” you say softly, reaching for his hands. he remembers when you came in holding sarah’s hands. it seems to be your thing. “i’ll see you around?”

“yeah—“ he clears his throat, gaining the courage to hold yours back. “yeah. see you around, y/n,”

you smile. you could swear he’s blushing. “you’re cute,” you say softly, squeezing his hands once more before retreating away.

he feels like he just took a shot of espresso, and now he’ll be thinking of you every night.

[shrenvents]

Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.7k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

That I’m a mutant…

That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that ain’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is further strained when his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin, from that sentence alone.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coaxing his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I giggle, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."

Part two

[koostattoos]

➳ wait for your love || j.jk

~ Synopsis — simply loving is not enough

~ Genre — strangers to friends(?) to lovers, college au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, slight fwb, unrequited love

Warnings/content — 3D jk, light angst, smut, major fluff, jk is a fuckboy, yearning, a lot of miscommunication, a lot of crying, smoking, slight drinking, he rides a motorcycle, oc is a bad b, big dick!jk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (f&m. receiving), 69, soft sex, missionary, doggy, aftercare (he's not a total asshole), multiple sex scenes, consensual sex tape, multiple orgasms, pining, complicated feelings, poor communication, bad boy!jk, ot7 cameo!

~ words — 25.6k

• currently play — we can’t be friends (wait for your love) by Ariana Grande and opera house by Cigarettes After Sex

“you got me misunderstood but atleast i look this good, we can’t be friends but i’d like to just pretend, you cling to your paper and pens, wait until you like me again, wait for your love

“i’ve got a love for you i just can’t escape, all of my love for you cuts me like barbed wire"

playlist <3

Love is a strange thing. A very complicated feeling to figure out yet some find it very simple. In this case, love is something that she found simple, it was something she was fond of when she saw her friends experience it. But he couldn’t find it in himself to feel it; he refused to. Deep down inside, he knew he couldn’t reciprocate the feeling of love. He tried so hard to, but he just couldn’t grasp on tight enough. So, he did what he did best, he let everything go.

~

 Jungkook can’t think straight. He’s been stored away in his apartment for the past few days. Unable to get up from bed and be productive, wasting away and rotting in his room. His roommate and best friend, Jimin, has been managing the place himself; cleaning, cooking, basically everything a home needs to function. He’s done everything he possibly could to get his friend out of his room. “Jungkook-ah, you need to get up. It’s three o'clock in the afternoon and I haven’t seen you all day, you need to eat” he calls from outside his door

 It’s silent on the other end of the room; only shuffling could be heard from his bed. Jungkook hasn’t heard anything back from you since your argument. It’s been radio silent from your end the phone. He constantly checks his phone to find something from you. He misses your voice. He misses you. He couldn’t bring himself to bother you even more. Not after the damage he’s caused to you and your relationship.

Summer

The bell at the top of the door constantly rings through the busy cafe as customers come and go. It’s been getting busier as the weather outside begins to heat up with the season change. Your hair is kept away from covering your face with a hair tie pulling it away in a low ponytail. The air conditioner is blasting cool air and keeping the hot air where it’s supposed to be, outside.

“Order for Jihoon!” you yell over the bustling cafe. You’ve been told that summer is one of the busiest times of the year for the cafe, second to winter time. The bell rings once again with new incoming customers, you look up from the cash register to find a young man around your age entering with his friends. His big and bold eyes find contact with yours across the room. A smile is displayed on his face, deep dimples grow as he laughs at whatever his friend says. He parts from his friends as he walks up to you to place an order. “Hello, what can I get for you today?,” he stares up at the menu behind you, glazing through his options. “Uh, let’s see” he pauses.

“Can I please get three iced americanos and,” he turns to look back at his friends again. “Which one did you want?” he asked the boy with the blonde hair “The chocolate muffin” The boy in front of you turned back to you. “And the chocolate muffin,” he repeated

You ring up his order and hand him his receipt. “Your total will be fifteen dollars and twelve cents” he fishes out for his wallet in his pocket and hands you the money. He watches you as you continue with the register. “And can I get a name for the order?” 

“Yes, Jungkook” he smiles at you

For some odd reason, his heart rate picks up as he’s talking to you. A strand of hair falls in front of your face and he can’t help but notice how pretty you are. Jungkook’s never seen you in town before. Snapping out of his trance you place your hand out to give him his remaining change. “Alright, your order will be out in just a few minutes, Jungkook” Reaching his hand out, he takes the money and nods his head to you. “Thank you,” he looks down at your name tag and gives you a bright smile. “___” 

The kind look he gives makes your cheeks turn into a rosy red. Tucking the piece of hair that’s fallen out of place behind your ear, you smile back at him.  Jungkook walks back sitting at a small table his friends decided to sit at and takes a seat in front of his blonde friend. “She was cute,” Jimin finally says, having watched the interaction between you and his best friend.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her around here before. She must be new to town," his other friend, Taehyung says. “Me neither, but she is pretty though,” He says as he plays with the small piece of paper you handed to him. That same smile reappears on Jungkook’s lips. “You should go ask her for her number, it’s been what? Years? Since you last got some” Jimin teases. 

“It hasn’t been years, dumbass. I just don’t want to jump into anything. I think it’s a waste of time”, It’s true. Jungkook hasn’t had a serious relationship since he was a junior in high school going into his senior year. He’s a senior in college now. Now he’s perfectly fine finding himself some fun, and by fun, he means sleeping with a handful of many different women; he doesn’t need a specific person to do that with. “Order for Jungkook!” your voice resounds in the now-settled cafe. Perking up at the sound of his name, the chair screeches across the floor as Jungkook stands up to retrieve his food. 

“Thank you,” he says again. “You’re welcome,” you give him a sweet smile. This time, Jungkook’s the one to blush. You watch as he gives you a small smile back, picking up his food, and turning back around to his group of friends.

“We miss you over here, it’s like nothing is fun anymore” You didn’t have much choice but to leave your friends back at your old school. The school here offered you much better opportunities than they did back in Gwangju. Taking a leap of faith, you packed your stuff and moved everything to Incheon. You knew little to no people here. Having never been here you had zero time to make any friends. Everything happened so suddenly you have had your main focus on trying to survive off of a fresh start. The move happened in the middle of summer break. 

Hoseok agreed to drive down to help you move all your stuff into your new apartment. The dorms were more expensive than you had thought, so getting a summer job and looking for cheaper housing was your best bet at living to see a new day in this new city. “I miss you guys too. You guys should come down here. Leave Gwangju for a bit, I feel like I haven’t seen you guys in ages” The rest of your friends decided to stay back and plan out their new classes for the new upcoming year. 

Sure, you were disappointed, but you didn’t want to hold them back from planning their future. They had been supportive of your decision to move three hours away from them. You had told them that they could visit you whenever they wanted to.

“Yeah, I know. I promise I’ll get everyone down there whenever we can, don’t have too much fun over there without me though!” he teases you over the phone. Laughing at him, you pull your keys out from your pocket to unlock your door. Stepping inside your phone is placed between your cheek and your shoulder as you balance holding your new house plant and a small box you had forgotten in your car. 

You close your door shut with your foot and place the box on your small dining table. Your apartment was small but big enough to fit two people. The living room wasn’t as big but your bedroom was a decent size. You don’t regret picking this place out, it was like living in a cot where no one could bother you. “How could I when you're the life of the party” you laugh. Hoseok shakes his head as if you could see him. “Hey, I gotta go now. Be safe over there and if you need any help I’m one phone call away. I love you” 

“Love you too, Hobi” Pulling your phone away you hear three beeps indicating the ending call. Walking over to the little window sill in your living room you place the overgrown plant there, making sure it’s angled enough to get the sunlight that it needs. Slumping down on the couch you pick up the remote laid on the armrest and turn on the TV. Playing whatever’s on as background noise. Sitting there and relishing your day, there’s one specific highlight of today that catches your attention. That boy who came by the cafe today, Jungkook. 

His bright boba eyes and his dimpled features play back into your head. His face is stuck in the forefront of your mind for the rest of the night. You hope that one day you will see him again

“No, I swear she looked just like Jessica Rabbit,” Jimin continued about the girl he saw on campus a few days ago. Taehyung was immersed in his friend’s story. But however Jungkook can’t find himself to indulge in his friend’s new ‘eye candy’ as Jimin liked to say. He found himself staring into space, thinking about you the whole way home. Jungkook has never found enough time to fond over some random woman he’s spent his time with. 

But he can not find a way to get you away from his thoughts. Something about you keeps pulling him in and he can’t seem to escape it. “Hey, Jungkookie. You good?” Jimin shakes his arm a bit. He doesn’t even realize that they are at their apartment already. He hadn’t realized how long he spent thinking about you. “Yeah, yeah I’m good” he shakes his head and pulls his keys from his pocket. 

Flipping the light switch to brighten up the room, the beeping of the door closing surrounds the room. “I’m gonna go wash up” Jimin watches as his friend walks over to his room. Weird. He thinks. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook turns to look over to Jimin. “Yeah, I’m good, '' he says as if it weren't obvious. Jimin walks closer to him, examining his face. “I don’t know it just seems like something’s bothering you” The worried expression growing on his face convinces Jungkook to fess up. 

“That girl, at the cafe, I can’t get her off my mind. We hadn’t even exchanged that many words and I can’t stop thinking about her,” He walks over to his couch and slumps down in defeat. A grin grows on Jimin's plump lips, taking a seat next to his young friend. “I knew it,” a smug look on his face. “Bro, I told you to ask for her number. She seemed into you too” he says with a nudge to his shoulder, enthusiasm growing in his tone. Jungkook rubs a hand over his tired face and stands up again. 

“I don’t know if she makes me feel something. I don’t know what it is but I don’t like it” You make butterflies erupt in his tummy, his heart beats faster, and you turn his cheeks rosy. Just looking at you he feels like he’s known you for a long time. And he’s just met you today. “I should just sleep on it, I’ll see how I feel in the morning. Who knows? Maybe I’ll completely forget about her when I wake up tomorrow” 

That was in fact, a lie. You were the first thing that popped up in Jungkook’s mind. Today he had a full agenda, it was registration week for classes. He wanted so badly to get rid of this feeling in the pit of his stomach. Walking into the shared bathroom, Jungkook walks in to get ready for the day. Through the mirror he sees Jimin emerging from his room, barely getting up from his bed. His shoulders slouched, his hair messy from sleep, and his eyes closed to still being closed from his slumber. 

“We need to be there by eight o’clock,” Jungkook tells him, mouth full of toothpaste. He gets a low hum in response from the kitchen. After finishing up in the bathroom, Jungkook walks out to prepare everything he needs. This is their last year in college, they needed to make the most of it. The screen of his phone lights up as he taps it to read the time. They had less than an hour to get out the door. Jungkook is ready with his things sitting next to him on the couch, he only has to wait for Jimin to finish. Nothing better to do than scroll through Instagram like random girls’ posts and keep up with the media. 

He somehow finds himself in his search bar. Moving his fingers over the keyboard, your name is what pops up. After searching for what had to be about a minute, he finds a picture of you smiling. You are with a group of friends surrounded by a table and playing what seems like a board game. Jungkook doesn’t notice the smile growing on his face until he hears Jimin walk out to the living space. 

“What are you smiling at?” He immediately shuts his phone off and looks up at his friend. “Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Let’s go I don’t wanna be late” Shrugging his shoulders Jimin walks over to his bag, sits on the chair at the dining table and walks to the door.  

When they got to the campus, which was only a fifteen-minute walk from their apartment, it was filled with college students. Some ran over to their friends that hadn’t seen in a while and some hung around, to themselves. Jungkook had slight hopes of seeing you here, registering as everybody else. Roaming the area he watches as different clubs set up booths, some standing by trying to get the freshman to sign up for their club. 

Jungkook has lost sight of Jimin, finding himself with his other friends. Now he’s by himself watching other students in his class lurk around, making fun of the lower class for being lost. It’s not until he finds himself on his phone again, looking through your profile again. It seemed like you liked to travel, you’ve been to Japan, Italy, and many other foreign countries. 

You seemed like a bubbly person, based on how you present yourself on social media.

His eyes found the clock again, and he had to get ready for his class. 

“Mom, I’m alright. I’m finding my way around campus. It’s big but I’ll get the hang of it. Stop worrying so much” Your mom has been calling you almost every day to check in on how you are settling in your new home. Of course, she was supportive but she was going to miss you. You’ve never been this far from your mother let alone living without her. You had your own apartment but it was still close to her. The bond you had with your mother was special to you. 

“Okay, honey. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay, I miss you”  It’s only a few minutes before your lecture starts and the class is almost filled with students. You hadn’t realized how many people majored in psychology “I gotta go, Mom. I’ll talk to you later,” placing your tote bag down next to you. You see the professor walk in with a book in his hand. “Alright, I love you and stay safe” 

“I will, I love you too” 

As you settle down in your seat you hear the door open again. This time, you see a familiar face. The boy you couldn’t stop thinking about walks down your row, sitting a few seats away from you. You don’t realize the butterflies flying in your tummy when you watch. “Okay, everyone” Your professor's voice booms through the room. “My name is Namseok but you can call me professor Choi” 

As the lesson is nearing its end you raise your hand to ask a question. “Yes, missis?” he pauses, waiting for your response

“___” Jungkook’s ears perk up at your voice. His head turned to the sound of your voice. “Yes, what are your questions?” Pulling your hand down to rest on your lap you speak up. “Are you available after class? I’d like to ask a few questions” Professor Choi shakes his head and walks back behind his desk. “Yes, please, come and see me after class and we will discuss whatever you need” Jungkook still hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you spoke. Too immersed in how beautiful you looked today, out of your work uniform and in normal clothes. 

“Well it seems like class is over for today. Good job everyone and I will see you on Thursday” Everyone collectively stands up and makes their way to the exit door. You on the other hand stay behind to ask a few questions. Instead of taking the normal way out like the other students. Jungkook walks the opposite way, past you. Watching as a muscular figure walks past you, you look up to see his face. He’s already looking down to you and you can feel your warm cheeks express a slight red color. 

It’s until he turns back around to look at you that you fold. He was extremely handsome, how could you not?

Your shift at the cafe was about to begin. It’s the middle of lunch time and the cafe has become busy. Sometimes you regret not signing up for afternoon classes. Night shifts are the busiest with the many college students coming in to study. Once again the ringing bell flows through your ears as customers walk through the door. You have yet to make any true friends around here. The only ‘friend’ you have is your co-worker, Yejoon. She helped you out on your first day but she spends most of her time in the back making the food for hungry students. 

Too busy watching the TV placed in the corner of the room you don’t see the same muscle figure you saw in your lecture class. “Hey,” he says. Tattooed arm out on display, chains adorning his neck. His body doesn’t match his face at all, with cute boba eyes twinkling like there are stars in them, and a button nose with small moles placed haphazardly.

“You’re in my psych class right?” he says, holding his weight up with his hands on the counter. You look up at him with squinted eyes. “Yeah, I am. I saw you today at the end of class. Why didn’t you go out with the other students?” This question catches him off guard. He needed to come up with an excuse, quick. “Uh, there’s another door that leads to a different building, I have a class there” Smooth. Nodding your head, you look behind him and watch as the line begins to grow. “Jungkook? Was it?” he nods his head at you, ensuring you are right. 

“Well, Jungkook. If you don’t mind if you're gonna stay here and chit chat I suggest moving out of my line. I have a crowd of hungry college students and I don’t intend on putting up with their attitude” You say with a scrunch of your nose. Jungkook puts his hands up as if he’s surrendering and throws you a smile. “I didn’t mean to take long, I just came up here to ask you something” You look up at him with a raised eyebrow. “And what is that?” 

“Can I have your number?” Bold. You think. “If you step out of my line maybe I’ll consider it” you tell him and he steps to the side so he’s not in the way of customers. “Hi, I’m sorry for holding up the line what I can get for you” You ask the middle aged man that was after Jungkook. “You wouldn’t have to be sorry if you just told your boyfriend to fuck off” Shock is read all over your face. You are not in the mood to handle rude customers today. “First of all, sir, he is not my boyfriend. Again I apologize for the wait. It’s on the house,” you tell the man. Jungkook stands there watching the interaction go down. 

For some reason this makes him even more eager to get your number. You look over to him as you wait for the next customer to tell you their order. “This might take a while, take a seat anywhere you’d like” you point with your head as you tell him to wait. It’s not until the very end of your shift that you realize that he’s still here, waiting for you. 

You step away from behind the counter and take your apron off. “I can’t believe you waited” you say under your breath walking closer to him. He looks up as he sees you from the corner of his eye. The chair scraping across the floor as he stands from his chair. “Of course I waited, I made it my mission to leave this place with some sort of way of communicating with you” This surprises you. You’ve never met this guy in your life and now after a small meet he’s determined to get to know you. 

“Well, I’ll give you my Instagram. Number is too personal” he scoffs at that. Thankfully, he deleted your user from his search beforehand. Handing you his phone you type in your user and follow your account. Your pocket buzzes with a notification from your phone. Pulling your phone out you read the notification.

ggukkie has followed you

You smile as you read his user. You click on the tab and follow him back. His phone vibrates with a new notification and he reads your username

yeojacoure has followed you

Smiling as he looks up from his phone he says “I’ll see you soon then?” You pull your hair from your hair tie and he watches as it flows down your shoulders. “I guess so, Jungkook” He begins to walk away and before he can walk out the door he calls out for you. “Goodnight” you reply with the same.

Feeling giddy inside Jungkook unlocks his phone and finds your account opening your message. 

ggukkie: So how can I get your number?  7:43 pm

You look down at your phone as you exit through the back entrance. You read the text Jungkook had sent you only a few minutes ago. Smiling like an idiot you reply back. 

yeojacoure: By earning it 😉 [7:49 pm]

ggukkie: And how do i do that? [7:49 pm]

yeojacoure: Figure it out 😊 [7:50 pm]

ggukkie: C’mon don’t tease now [7:52pm]

yeojacoure: Not teasing [7:52 pm]

yeojacoure: You’re a smart boy, you can do it! [7:53 pm]

He smile he cannot contain spreads on his lips 

ggukkie: Alright, if working for it is what it takes then i guess that’s what i’ll do smh [7:53 pm]

When you think he’s done another text comes in

ggukkie: Are you free Saturday?[ 7:59 pm]

Your heart picks up once again because of him. What could he possibly have in mind? 

yeojacoure: Yes… Why are you asking? [8:00 pm]

ggukkie: Let’s hang out [8:00 pm]

You think about it for a minute. You were just complaining about 

having no friends in town. Maybe it’s time you make some. 

yeojacoure: Okay sure, what do you have in mind? [8:03 pm]

ggukkie: It’s a surprise 😉 [8:03 pm]

ggukkie: If you get to be all secretive on me then I can be too [8:03 pm]

yeojacoure: okay fine, as long as you don’t plan to murder me then okay [8:04 pm]

ggukkie: Why would I want to kill someone as beautiful as you? [8:04 pm]

This gets you to blush, hard. You feel like kicking your feet up and swinging them like a dumb teenage girl. You take a minute to breathe before responding back to him. 

yeojacoure: shut up [8:06 pm]

yeojacoure: I’ll see you Saturday [8:06 pm]

Jungkook smiles at your final text and finally starts to make his way back to his apartment. He hasn’t felt like this since his junior year of high school and it scares him a bit.

Days have gone by since Jungkook practically begged for your number at the cafe. You’ve seen him around campus but never bothered to interact with him. Except for your psychology class, he made the empty space next to you his permanent seat. It’s now Saturday, he was supposed to take you out today but he never told you a time or a place. Now you’re sitting in your little apartment semi-dressed for an unknown plan. 

You had given him your address in class, which he got in trouble for talking to your professor. He says it’s not far from where he lived and you remember he gave you a disgusting little smile.

It is getting darker now, the sun beginning to set behind the city and the lights illuminating the lively city. Now you are having doubts that he will even show up. “I don’t know, Hobi. He told me he’d pick me up but he never gave me a time and he hasn’t texted me or called me at all” you talk to your best friend over the phone.

“Relax, I’m sure he will show eventually. If he doesn’t show then why was he so desperate to get your number?” you sigh. He does have a point. 

 Your doubts are crushed when you hear your doorbell ring in your ears. “Oh my God, okay, he’s here. I’ll call you when I get back” 

“Okay, be safe and if anything happens and I don’t hear back from you. I’m driving my ass down there and calling the police” you chuckle at your friend. “I will, I gotta go” you click the red button to end the call.

You walk over to the door to look through the tiny hole on the door. Making sure you aren’t opening the door to some stranger. 

“Told you I’d surprise you” He says when the door opens. His eyes follow you up and down. You weren’t wearing anything special. A short off the shoulder long sleeve with a bow tying around the back and jeans. “Yeah, I started to doubt you’d even show up. It’s practically night out already.” you roll your eyes at him as you walk out the door. Not before grabbing your purse off the dining table. 

“Awh were you waiting for me” he teases. You nudge him with an arm as you walk side by side down the hall to the elevator. When it does arrive a small family comes out before you enter. Pressing the bottom floor Jungkook makes small conversation. “You look pretty tonight” you reply back with a small “Thank you,”  a blush starting to rise to your cheeks once again. “Where are you even taking me?” 

“Well if I tell you it wouldn’t be a surprise, but since you’re so insistent then I’ll tell you,” the door to the elevator opens as it stops on your desired floor. “I’m taking you around the city, I remember you told me once after class that you’ve had any idea around so I’m showing you” your heart picks up once again at the thought of him remembering little things that you said. It seems to do that a lot when you’re around him. 

When you reach the parking garage you don’t see any car in sight. “Where’s your car?” He walks up to a motorcycle and taps the back of it. “Right here” your eyebrows raise in confusion. He hadn’t told you he was picking you up in this. “You’re kidding me, right? We’re driving this?” a bit of hesitation can be heard in your voice. A smirk appears on his face as he watches your face full of worries. How cute. He thinks. 

“Oh c’mon, I drive safe. You have nothing to be worried about” he places gentle hands on your arms. You lean a bit to the side to look back at the vehicle. Looking back up at him you let out a sigh and reluctantly agree. “Atta girl” he picks up the helmet that was set on top of the bike. He pushes it into your arms, confusion begins to settle on your face. “What about you? What if you get hurt?” 

Your brows furrow once again in worry. He has the urge to pinch your cheeks from how adorable you look but he refrains himself and nudges your chin with his finger. “Don’t worry about me, hmm? I’ve done this plenty of times,” he moves to stand in front of you and he looks down at your small frame.

“Can you trust me?” he says.

You give him a look that isn’t convincing but you nod anyway. “Good, now hop on.” He moves to throw his leg over the bike and he kicks the stand up. You place the helmet on and do the same as him. “Now, hold on tight. I’m responsible for you tonight. Can’t have you getting hurt” he says, patting the side of your thigh. The loud roaring of the engine resounds through the big garage, making you jump slightly. 

When you get to the highway he picks up the speed and you hold his waist just a bit tighter, praying you don’t crash with his slightly reckless driving. His hand lets go of one of the handles and you feel him place it over yours intertwining your fingers.

As you ride through the city the lights from buildings light up the dark streets. Slight suspicion grows in your mind when Jungkook turns into a small alleyway. Nothing but trash bins aligned on a wall and a door leading into the building next to you. “Jungkook, where are we?” he pulls his hand out in front of you to help you off his bike, taking it kindly. You pull off the helmet and place it on one of the handles. “One of the places I want to show you” 

“One of these places?” he turns his head to you and gives you a small smile. “Big city means lots of places to discover” He pulls the handle of the door and you’re hit with loud chatter and warm light. It’s a small bar filled with laughter and low lights. It’s not as packed as it is outside in the streets. “Ya! Jungkook-ah,” you hear a deep voice call for Jungkook from one of the tables. A man with round glasses and a pretty smile calls him over to his table. “I haven’t seen you in a while” he brings the younger one into a hug. “Yeah, well I’ve been caught up with school and whatnot” 

The taller man’s attention is drawn to you now. You feel small under his gaze. “And who is this? A girlfriend?” he teases him, pulling him into a headlock. Jungkooks face scrunches with a smile displaying his bunny-like teeth. He pushes the older man off of him and fixes his hair. “This is a friend,” he corrects him. Jungkook looks down to you and introduces you to his friend. “___ this is Namjoon, an old friend of mine” 

“Hey! I’m not that old,” he slaps the younger one on the back of his head, you let out a snicker. “It’s nice to meet you ___, I see that Jungkookie here has finally come out of his shell” you let out a giggle. “Hyung, stop embarrassing me, gosh” he hides his face behind his hand. “I’m just teasing you” his gaze falling back on you. “So what brings you to Incheon?” you look down to play with the bracelet on your wrist. “Well, I was originally going to school in Gwangju, but I found out that they had better plans here for me than they did back over there,” 

“Ahh I see, I hope you find comfort here. It is a big city but you’ll get around. If anything you have me and Jungkook here to help you if you need it,” conversation begins to flow smoothly between the two of you. Jungkook had taken a seat next to you, placing his arm on the back of your chair as he listened to you converse with his friend. He can’t help but admire the way you look right now. Your smile radiates warmth all around and the way your eyes shine in the light. He feels like he can look at you for hours on end. 

“It was nice meeting you, I hope to see you soon” Namjoon’s eyes gaze over to Jungkook, with a smug smirk on his lips. Rolling his eyes at him he turns his head to the side shying away to hide his rosy cheeks. “It was nice meeting you too, Namjoon. I had a great time,” with a wave he turns the corner of the building and disappears into the night. It’s silent between the two of you now, you look up at Jungkook standing next to you. He looks down at you and furrows his brows, “What?” 

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Are we gonna stand here all night or are we going to have fun? Hmm,” a grin displaying on your face as you walk past him and lift the helmet off the place you left it. Chuckling Jungkook straddles the bike and looks back.

“Hop on” The roaring of the engine rings through your ears once again and through the small alleyway. The city lights have become slightly dimmer now that it’s getting later into the night. Fewer people roam the streets but still many young souls live their young lives with their friends. 

The drive to your next destination takes a bit longer. It’s close to leaving the city. The sign you read as you enter the small area is ‘Songdo Central Park’. The small streets go on for miles as booths pile up down the line. Jungkook parks on one of the many sidewalks and helps you with your bike.

“What is this place?” you say. 

“Central Park, I come here sometimes to clear my mind,” he walks mindlessly with you trailing behind him.

The lights of the monument in the middle of the park are bright lighting up the path. Walking side by side now, you watch as Jungkook takes in the cool, summer air, hands swaying next to each other, and fingers brushing against each other. You point at a booth selling candied fruits and tug on his jacket. 

“Can we get some?” your big eyes looking at his. How could he resist you? Obliging, he gives you a small shake of his head and follows you to the booth.

“Hello! What can I get for you?” the nice old lady asks.

Fruits skewered on a stick in her hand as she dips it in a sugary coating. “Can, please get, uhmm” you place a hand on your chin looking through the small collection of fruit. “Which one should we get?” you turn to Jungkook, who has been staring at you the whole time, and he looks over the tray of sweet snacks. “Let’s get one strawberry and a mix of both with grapes,” he tells the lady with a sweet smile. 

She grabs the fruits and places it in small trays for the both of you. “That will be five dollars, please” Jungkook hands her cash he had stored in his pocket. “Thank you!” you say as you wave her goodbye. Walking in silence enjoying your snack Jungkook can’t help but feel nervous now that he’s next to you. You bring the fruits to his lips and you place your hand underneath to catch the falling crumbs. “You want some?” he looks at your adorable face as you wait for him to take a bite. 

Taking the sweet red fruit in his mouth a piece of sugar falls from it, landing in your hand. You bring it to your mouth and take the hard sweet. Jungkook’s heart pace speeds up for an unknown reason and you continue on as if nothing happened, finishing off what’s left of your treat. Clearing his throat he asks, “How do you like the city so far?” looking ahead of him. A couple playing with their little dog as it runs around in the grass. 

Your eyes follow his and you can feel a smile grow on your lips. “I like it, but I feel like there’s only so much that I can explore in one day”

You walk over to throw both of your trash away and you find a bench in front of the small lake in the middle of the park. Walking over to it and taking a seat Jungkook follows suit. “I can show you so many other places if you’d let me” a grin growing on his lips. 

You look to the side of you and give him a small smile “I don’t know, Jeon. I’d have to think about that one” you laugh. “Oh c’mon, I know my way around the city. I can show you so much more” the night continues on with laughter and playful banters. You don’t notice the time passing until your phone rings with a notification. “Oh, shit. It’s getting late we should get going” Jungkook stands from his seat and stretches his hand out for you to grab. Taking it, he pulls you from your seat and he doesn’t let go until you find yourselves back at his bike. 

About an hour later, your apartment building comes into sight as you turn the corner of your street. Jungkook comes to a slow stop near the entrance of your parking garage and parks his bike. Taking off the helmet for the last time tonight you run your fingers through your hair making sure your hair was kept well. Hopping off, Jungkook places the helmet down on the seat of the bike. “Can I walk you?” 

“Yes, you can '' the look in your eye is something he can’t quite make out but it makes his tummy do backflips. You walk in front of him to the lobby of your apartment and press on the button with the arrow pointing up to the upper floors.

It dings immediately given the late hour of the night, assuming everyone is fast asleep by now. The ride up to your apartment was silent. The only sound in the small elevator was going up the few floors you lived above.

The door rings and its doors open wide for you to exit. You walked down the short hall and stopped at your door, turning around to face Jungkook. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he looks at anything but you. Feeling the nervous crawling back into his chest. You are the first one to speak, “I had fun today, Jungkook '' your smile eases him a bit. “I’m glad you did, my offer still stands, you know” 

You think about the time you spent at the park, you are still taking it into deep consideration leaning towards saying yes to him again. You only respond back with, “I’ll think about it” he laughs, his head hanging low at your unclear answer. Sighing he looks past your head at the wall behind you. He builds up the courage to ask you again. “So, how about that number?” you burst out laughing. Covering your mouth trying to keep quiet in courtesy of your neighbors. “What makes you think, you’ve earned my number?” 

A hint of laughter still hidden your voice. “Well, I did take you out and gave you a good time. I think I deserve it” You think about it for a minute. “I’ve decided to make this easier for you, I’ll make it like an easter egg hunt” you jump up with enthusiasm. He looks at you with confusion, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ll give you clues! You can earn each digit one by one” you say proudly. He chuckles at your antics, accepting you challenge him and he nods his head. “Okay, when do I get my first clue?” you look around trying to think of something clever. “Ahh! It’s in my address,” he looks up to the numbers on your door deciphering which one of the four numbers could be in yours. “That’s your only hint” 

“You really are a tease, you know that” , shaking his head. You only smile up at him, nose scrunched. “You should get going, it’s late.” 

“Yeah,” it’s silent for a moment before Jungkook speaks up one last time tonight. “I liked tonight with you ___,” you look down, shy. “I did too, Jungkook. You aren’t as bad as I thought you would” you tease him. Rolling his eyes at your gesture, he nudges the bottom of your chin with his finger and lifts his head looking down at you “I thought you’d be a handful, but I guess you're tolerable” you slightly push on his shoulder. He grabs your wrist and you both stop for a moment. 

You don’t realize how close you have become. Faces close together. Slowly leaning in, Jungkook's eyes gravitate to your soft, pink lips. Before your lips could touch your head moved to the side, whispering in his ear, “Goodnight, Jungkook” your hand leaves the nape of his neck and you turn your door. Before it could close, you locked eyes with Jungkook, one last time. 

Once he can’t see you anymore, Jungkook lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He turns to make his way back to his bike holding on to his chest where his heart lies. The feeling erupting in his chest feels foreign to him. Something he hasn’t felt in years. It scares him. It’s something he refuses to let himself feel. Maybe he just needs to sleep. Maybe he’s just tired from the long day he’s had. 

Hopping on his bike. He makes his way back home, thinking about the digits of your address, dissecting them. Determination stays on his mind for the rest of the night.

A small crowd of students file into the quiet library. Books surround you with knowledge of classes that you are taking. A pencil clad in your hand as you think of more notes to write down on your notebook in front of you. Jungkook has been texting you since the day he took you out. Asking you random questions throughout the day, but to your surprise he hasn’t said a single thing about your number. 

You jump a bit in your seat when the chair in front of you screeches against the floor. When you look up you see Jungkook’s handsome face, a chuckle coming from his lips at your reaction. “Hi” he says in a whisper. Shaking your head at him you go back to writing your notes. “How did you know I was here?” He watches as you write down words on your piece of paper. His tattooed hand reaches out and starts playing with the edge of the paper and you look up at him. “I was on my way to get some lunch and saw you through the window, you don’t work today?” his head tilts to the side like a puppy dog. You shake your head, “No, I have a day off today and I wanted to spend it studying. But I can’t do that with you bothering me” he rolls his eyes and lets go of the paper. 

It’s silent for only a minute before he starts speaking again. “When will you be done?” He's like a nagging child, always in need for attention. You let out a sigh of frustration and put your pencil down beside the notebook. “You don’t have any other friends you can annoy?” a small pout forms on his lips. Sulking, because of your attitude. 

“I wanna hang out with you” you try one more time to focus on studying. Opening one of the books lying beside you. A loud groan comes from the big baby in front of you and you quietly slam the book shut. “Fine! What do you want to do,” placing your remaining things into your bag and you stand from your chair to pull it over your shoulder. Jungkook beats you to it, though. Placing the white tote bag over his shoulder and carrying it out with him. Puffing a breath of air out you follow him to the door.

The weather is nice today, it wasn’t too hot like those other summer days. It seems to be cooling down. “Where are we eating?” you ask behind him. He turns his head to look back at you and slows his pace down to match yours. “This place that serves the most delicious pork belly,” his posture straight, determined to get to the restaurant as fast as possible. Before he came into the library he had already been planning to ask you out to lunch with him. 

He was originally planning on walking to the cafe, so he had been waiting a while. When you walk into the restaurant you are hit with the warm air with the scent of meat. To your surprise it wasn’t as busy as you’d expect it to be considering it being lunch hour. Jungkook picks out a table in the middle of the restaurant. Taking a seat in front of him, he grabs a menu that had already been placed there and picks out his favorite dishes. 

“Hello, what can I get started for you guys today?” The server walks up to the table with a notepad and pencil in his hand. His attention is drawn to you first. You look up at him and give him a sweet smile. His hair was wavy and dimples showed whenever he smiled. You look down to your hands resting on the table and you look at Jungkook. His stare already on you, clearing his throat he begins to order. 

Once it is written down on the notepad the waiter grabs the menus from the table. “I’ll be out shortly with your food” You nod your head politely and bring your attention back to the man in front of you. “You still haven’t given me another hint” He brings up again. Sighing with a smile on your lips you slightly shake your head at him. “You are never going to give up, are you?” 

“Nope, I’m determined” 

“Why? Is my Instagram not enough?” You say with a shake of your shoulder. 

“No, it’s not. Are you gonna give me another hint or what?" Sass can be heard in his tone. Instead of having the poor boy go on for ages figuring out your number you give him the first six digits. “Fine, I’m starting to feel bad for you now. I’ll give more than one number” At this his eyes light up like the galaxy. Excitement growing in his chest and a smile that brings out his dimples appear on his face. 

Laughing at his excitement you write down on a piece of napkin you pull from the box next to you. ‘823257’ written in bold ink. You fold it up and slide it over to Jungkook’s side of the table. “There now you need to find the last four” Now feeling a bit more relieved he stuffs the napkin deep into the pockets of his sweats. The food is brought out and the same waiter places it on the table in front of you. 

“Thank you,” you tell him with that same smile you gave him earlier. Blush begins to grow on his pale cheeks and he bows, walking away to serve other tables. Scoffing Jungkook looks away from the boy and takes the scissors from the tray, cutting up the meat. “What was that look for?” you say to him picking up a pair of utensils. “Nothing” you laugh lightly at his pouty lips. 

The sizzling of the meat on the grill resounds and smoke lifts into the air from the hot pan. “Do you think it’s cheating if another man helps separate your perilla leaf for you with chopsticks if you’re already with someone?” The ridiculous question gets you to chuckle. “I don’t think so, why does it matter if you're just going to end up eating it anyway?” you say, taking a piece of meat he grilled and placed on your plate for you into your mouth. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he chews on the pork belly and his legs jump a little under the table. “It does matter! I feel like it's cheating plain and simple. If I were dating someone it should only be me helping you. Not some other guy that you happen to be friends with” 

“Whatever you wanna believe, Jeon. But personally, I really don’t care. As long as I have food in my mouth then I’m happy” you say as you stuff your mouth with rice. 

The check comes around when you finish eating. You go to grab the piece of paper but, once again, Jungkook beats you to it. “Yah, I’m the one who brought you out to eat. I should be the one paying for it” he held the paper away from you. Slumping in your seat you cross your arms across your chest. “But it’s expensive, let me help pay half” With a proud smile Jungkook signs off on it and gives it to your waiter. “Too late, already paid for” he sends you a sly grin and you let out a puff of air.

The beeping sound of the door resounds in the quiet apartment. Jungkook walks to his shoe rack next to the front door and pulls off his big black shoes. Walking over to the couch he settles down on the couch and turns on the TV. Before he could pull his jacket off he remembers the small napkin you gave to him at the restaurant. Digging through his pocket he feels the soft paper and unravels it, revealing the numbers you had written down. 

The front door beeps once again, the slightly shorter man walks through the door and places his bag on the dining table. “Hey,” Jimin says. “What do you wanna do tonight? We don’t have a schedule for tomorrow and we don’t need to be up early” he says, digging through the fridge for something to eat. Jungook’s focus is still analyzing the piece of paper. “Uh, do you think you could help me with something?” he turned his attention to the blonde standing behind the counter, a drink propped in his hand. 

“Yeah, what is it?” taking a sip from his bottle. Jungkook stands to walk over to Jimin and places the napkin in front of him. He looks down at it and lifts his head back up to look at his friend. “A napkin with a bunch of numbers on it? Is it like a code or something?” he says with confusion laced in his voice. Jungkook shakes his head and he pulls up your Instagram account. “Do you remember her?” Jimin brings the phone closer to his face to properly see what he has displayed on his phone. It takes him a little while to remember your face. Then his face brows straighten out as he recalls that day he saw you. “Ah, the cafe worker” Jungkook shakes his head, “Yes, her” 

“What about her?” Confusion written on his face again. “Well, I’ve been hanging out with her for a while now-” before he can continue his sentence Jimin cuts him off, “And you didn’t mind telling me this until now because?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve just been so caught up with her and I didn’t even think about mentioning her. But now I’m in a situation” he starts off by telling him the day he walked into the cafe and waited for you to finish up so he could talk to you. And the rest of the story after that. “Why is she playing hard to get? It’s just a couple of numbers” Jimin says. Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, turning around back to the couch. 

“She said it’s a personal thing, which is so stupid. We’ve been texting back n’ forth on Instagram. I was out with her today and she gave me those numbers” he sighs out of frustration. Jimin flows behind him and sits on the sofa next to him. He places the drink down and pats Jungkook on the shoulder. “You’re in luck, I have my mom to thank for this.” he pulls out a thick book filled with thousands of phone numbers from under the coffee table. Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock as the book slams on the table in front of them. 

“When did she give this to you?” he asks in shock. “She gave it to me before I left Busan, I forgot I had it with me. I never had a use for it so it was stored away in the closet at our old dorm” He opens the book and flips through the thin pages. He stops on a page and glides his finger down looking for those six numbers. “Here!” He looks back to the napkin next to the book and reads off the numbers. Jungkook watches in awe as he watches his friend work his ‘magic’. “Now all we need to do is look through,” he pauses for a second “one hundred seventeen phone numbers” A loud “What!” comes from the man beside him. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us Jungkookie” 

The first number they dialed was an old lady. She was sweet about them calling the wrong number and they moved on to the next. The fifth number they dial was a fried chicken place, not being able to contain themselves they placed an order for delivery. The two of them spend the next hour and a half trying to search for your number. Jungkook is close to losing hope. He ended up stepping out to their balcony and took a cigar out from the box laying on top of the table next to the couch. 

Inhaling a puff into the night’s air, he begins to feel a bit more relaxed. Jimin walks in behind him, standing next to him as they look out into the city. Lights, once again brightening up the city. The sounds of cars driving by and flocks of birds flying in the sky. Jimin takes in the fresh air, his arms leaning against the railing. “What if she gave you a fake number?” he says. Jungkook only sighs and takes another drag from his cigarette. 

“I mean we’ve been at this for hours and all we’ve found is nothing” But Jungkook being the stubborn man he is he says “We have twenty more numbers to call. And if none of them is hers, then” he pauses. He looks up at the stars twinkling in the black sky. He closes his eyes and thinks. “Then I’ll just give up,” Jimin nods his head at his friend's decision, his head hanging low as he pats the taller one’s shoulder walking back into the room. 

Jungkook places the end of the stick in a bowl lying on the edge of the thick railing and trails behind the elder. Plopping himself back down on the couch, he begins to prepare himself for maybe one of the longest hours of his life. He picks his phone up again and dials one of the remaining numbers. But to no avail, it’s not your voice he hears on the other end of the phone. Crossing it off in the book he dials the next one, and then the next, and then he’s on the sixth number.

The phone rings for a while, but on the fourth ring, someone picks up. “Hello?” you say. Jungkook is silent. Shocked that it’s actually you, he’s finally talking to. “Hello,” he says back. You bring your phone away from your ear and look at the number. “Jungkook? How did you manage to find the rest of my number so quickly?” He laughs at that. ‘Quickly’ is quite the opposite of tonight.

“Thank fucking God it’s you,” he says. Jimin perks up, turning around to face Jungkook.

Autumn

The sun rose over the horizon and spilt into the room, the blinds kept slightly ajar covering bits of the messy room, the light laying over his sleeping body. His eyes slow open as the sun peeks through them. He twists and turns in the comfort of his bed until he becomes restless, pulling the comforter away from his body. “Jungkook” a girl hovering over his tired body. She lays her own over his, cuddling into his neck as she wraps her arms around his neck, he buries himself in her scent dragging his hands to wrap around her waist. 

The girl plants soft kisses along his soft skin whispering little nothings into his ear. Before he could pull away to find her beautiful face, his eyes opened.

“Get up!” Jimin tugs on his arm harder. Jungkook jerks up from his bed, wiping his eyes from sleep. “What time is it?” his deep voice still laced with his deep slumber, Jimin looks at the clock on the wall by his mirror and back at the sleepy boy.

"It’s ten thirty, we were supposed to meet Namjoon ten minutes ago” he yells. Jungkook groans standing up from the bed, without watching out for where he was going he stubs his toe on the corner of the bed, “Shit” he falls onto his bed again holding his foot. His phone buzzes with a notification. The name read ‘___ 🌺’, and a smile formed on his face as he read your name. 

y/n🌺: Hey sleepy. I’ve been trying to reach you for like an hour but it seems like you’re too busy for me now 😞. I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out today? [10:35 am] 

His smile grows even wider. He thought he’d never see the day that you would reach out and ask if he wanted to hang out. Unfortunately, he has plans out today. It’s been a long while since he and all of his friends planned to hang out together. With everyone being busy with school and work, they never found the time to plan a get together. 

Me: Hey, sorry I didn’t get back. I woke up late. [10:37 am]

Me: Someone missing me already? 🫤 [10:37 am] 

He stands up from his bed and walks through the bedroom door. Jimin walks past him, already dressed and ready for the day, “You’re not ready yet, we’re going to leave in like five minutes” he says. “Alright! I won’t take that long, relax” He walks into the bathroom and prepares himself for the day ahead of him. The sink buzzes from his phone. The screen lights up with another notification. 

y/n 🌺: Calm down pretty boy, I was just asking because I’m off today and I don’t have any plans [10:45 am]

Me: So you think I’m pretty? lol, sorry angel i can’t today, what about tomorrow? [10:47 am]

While he waits for a response he walks out of the bathroom and walks over to his closet, looking through the many clothes he has. Finally, picking out something to wear he walks out to the living space where Jimin is sitting on the couch, looking at his phone waiting for him to finish. “Finally,” he breathes out in relief. “If only you set a damn alarm we wouldn’t be so late, Tae keeps texting me if we were there yet and yet we’re still standing here” he shakes his head. 

“Can you calm down, I’m ready. Let’s go” Jungkook walks forward to the front door and his keys in his hand. He waits for Jimin to walk out before he locks the door. As they are walking down the hall to the parking garage, Jungkook checks his phone again to find your message. 

y/n 🌺: Don’t get so cocky now Jeon. Yeah, that’s fine. I guess I’ll just spend my time alone today 😞 [10:48 am] 

Me: Cheer up at least you get to spend the whole day with me tomorrow! 😊 [10:59 am]

y/n 🌺: Yeah yeah. Have fun with your boyfriends [11:00 am] 

Cheesing at his phone he sends you a thumbs up and puts his phone away and takes his car keys out. “What are you smiling about?” Jimin looks over to his friend in the driver's seat. “Is it ___?” he guesses. Jungkook shrugs his shoulders as he places the key into the ignition.

As Jungkook pulls out of the parking garage, Jimin takes the aux cord and plugs it into his phone, ‘3:00 AM’ by Finding Hope plays softly in the background of the car. “So, what’s the deal with you and her?” He starts the conversation first. “What do you mean? We’re just friends,” Jimin looks at him with a look of suspicion written on his face. “Hmm, you’ve been spending almost all of your time with her, and I always catch you geeking whenever you’re texting her, doesn’t seem like ‘just friends’ to me” he lifts two fingers up in the air as quotations. 

“You are so deluded. I can’t have girls that are friends anymore?” 

“You’ve never had a girl-friend before. It’s either you sleep with them or you sleep with them. I have never seen you spend this much time with someone let alone a girl. Let’s be real now,” This leaves Jungkook silent. He is right, though. He just won’t admit that he is. “Whatever, man” The car ride is spent in silence for the rest of the time being. 

It’s not until Jimin gets an incoming call from Taehyung. The phone is still connected to the car, his deep voice is loud throughout the vehicle. “Hello?” Jimin says, “Where are you guys?” 

“We’re almost there, why?” Jungkook says. “Just asking, cus Namjoon-hyung is getting antsy, he just wants to make sure you guys are coming, it has been a while since we’ve all been together” 

“Okay were pulling up in the parking lot now, see you soon” 

“See you in a bit” the calls end and the music starts to play again. The car comes to a stop, and the two close the door shut. This place is different to the one he took you out to that night all those days ago. This one is more secluded, not many people know about, considering it’s Namjoon’s father’s place. The small building is next to a lake, only a few others in sight down the road. the quiet sounds of the water rippling in the air, and the leaves turning into red, orange, and brown colors with the changing season. 

Leaves crunch under their feet as they walk up to the door, knocking to be let in. The eldest one in the group answers the door. “Yah, what took you guys so long.” Jin says, pushing their hands slightly in a playful manner. “This one woke up late” he points to Jungkook. He raises his hands up and apologizes, “Sorry, I forgot to set an alarm, but to be fair I went to sleep late last night working on a project” 

“At least you're here” Jin throws his arm over his youngest’s shoulder. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in ages,” 

“Yeah, me too” Yoongi, another one of their friends, comes from the bathroom. Jungkook throws him a smile and pulls him into a hug. “It’s nice to see you guys again” Namjoon comes from what seemed like a gaming room “Look at us, one whole again” he opens his arms and brings Jungkook into a hug as well. Jimin and Taehyung are sitting at one of the couches catching up on what they’ve been doing since they last saw each other. 

They all gather around and begin chit chatting. “So, Jungkookie, Jimin here tells us you’re seeing someone” Jin raises his eyebrows, curious about his friend's love life. Jungkook shakes his head as he takes a sip of whiskey. “I’m not seeing anyone, she’s just a friend” at this Namjoon perks up and joins in on the conversation. “Oh is it __? I thought you guys were together, I mean you guys should’ve been there. They he looked at her was so sweet” 

“I did not look at her in any way” he objects. 

“Wait, you've met her already?!” Jin says with a look of hurt on his face. “That’s not fair! I basically raised you and this is how you repay me!” he yells.

“Can we please calm down, she’s nothing but a friend to me, why is that so hard to believe” They all become silent now. Giving each other knowing looks, he lets out a sigh and pulls a cigar out from his pocket. Taking a lighter that was lying on the table in front of him he lights it up, taking a drag.

“Oh c’mon, when will you introduce us? It’d be good to see a new face around here” Jungkook looks up at Yoongi and back down to his cigar. “I don’t know, it’ll happen when it happens” It is silent for a minute before Jungkook changes the subject. “How’s Aria and the baby? I miss that little dumpling” Jin’s baby, Minchae, is 

Jungkook's goddaughter, it’s been a long time since he’s seen her. Jin and his wife, Aria, are high school sweethearts, she’s seen him through his growth spurt, he hasn’t spent a day looking bad. He doesn’t blame her for staying with him for all these years. 

“They’re doing good, we wanted to host a barbeque sometime in two weeks, I forgot to bring this up the last time we were together” 

Everyone perks up at the mention of food, all agreeing, they begin to talk about life, what they’ve all been caught up doing since their last get together.

“Are you guys dating?” Your best friend asks over the phone. After Jungkook told you he was busy, you brought yourself out of your tiny apartment and did a little bit of exploring yourself.

“No, we’re not. We are just friends” you deny your relationship with Jungkook. He is one of the first friends (?) that you have made so far since you moved here. Yes, his personality is a bit condescending but you still manage to find a way to tolerate it. 

“Well, from the way you described him, it sounds like more than friends to me” You shake your head as if he could see you. “Fine believe what you wanna believe, but I assure you we are just friends-” Mid sentence you don’t pay attention to where your feet are leading you. You bump into a tall figure, when you turn around to apologize, you get a closer glimpse of the man. “Hey, you were our waiter the other day at that restaurant near the campus” you say pointing at him. He smiles and gives you a nod of his head. 

“Yeah, that was me” An awkward silence fills between you two until you speak again. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he lifts his hands in the air in a forgiving manner.

“No, no it’s okay” smiling again at him you slowly begin to turn around to go on your way. Not until he stops you in your tracks, “Wait! Uhm” You turn your head back around to face him and raise your eyebrows. “Yes?” 

“I was too scared to ask you this back at the restaurant, but can I have your number?” How cute, you think. A smile breaks out on your lips and you walk closer to him. “I don’t even know your name,” you say to him. Immediately he says “It’s Jiung”. You pause for a minute looking up at the sky as if you were thinking. “Okay, Jiung. Give me your phone” That same sweet smile you gave to him gets him to blush. He pulls his phone out from his jacket pocket and places it in my hand. 

You put in your number and hand it back to him, you turn away but not before you say “Have a good day” in a sweet voice. His heart starts to race as you turn your back to him and continue your adventure. “What was that?” Hoseok says through the phone. “This guy that I saw at this restaurant Jungkook took me to. He asked for my number. 

“Wow, you are a guy magnet over there, what happened here?” he says teasingly 

“Shut up” 

Loud knocks are heard from your front door as you get ready in your room. Your hair is still up in curlers, your baggy t-shirt is on, and your biker shorts are still on, you walk over to the door and look through the peephole. The beeping of the door is heard next to you and Jungkook steps into the room. “Look at you in your pajamas. Didn’t I say I was gonna be here at one?”

he says in a teasing manner behind you. Walking back to your room you hear his heavy steps follow behind you. “Uh, I don’t remember letting you into my room” You turn to face him. “And I don’t remember caring enough to ask,” The beefy man says plopping down on your bed. Rolling your eyes you walk back to your bathroom, his hands lay behind his head as he relaxes into your bed. You walk out with a robe on now, and Jungkook eyes you up and down. 

“Do you mind?” you say looking back at him. 

“I won’t look I swear” You give him a look that says ‘I don’t trust you’. Turning around you go through your closet, pick a casual outfit, and bring it back to the bathroom.

Jungkook rolls his eyes as you walk away. Your bathroom and bedroom connect, and the big mirror above your sink shows almost everything in it. His eyes wander around your room, thinking about it now he’s never stepped foot in your apartment before, and his gaze stops at the mirror in the bathroom. You have taken your robe off and your bare back is on display. 

He holds his breath as he takes in your figure, You grab the clip that was holding your hair and he watches as your hair cascades down your shoulder. Your head turns to look at how your hair had turned out from the rollers, but instead, you're met with Jungkook’s gaze. He’s sat up in your bed now, lips parted slightly. You hold his stare before looking away and bending down to grab your clothes. 

Snapping out of his trance, you can hear shuffling coming from your room. You look back to your bed and find it empty, Jungkook is in the other room, trying to steady his breath. A few minutes later you walk out of your room, a big sweater covering your body and a small skirt adoring part of your legs.

“Are you ready?” You say tilting your head up to look at him.

He only nods his head in response and waits for you to collect your things. He stands by the door, watching you put your sneakers on. A small white bag is thrown over your shoulder.

When you are finally done you walk out the door and he closes it behind you. The walk to the parking garage was quiet for some odd reason. When you both get into his car you destroy the silence between you two. “How come you aren’t being annoying today? Usually, you’re talking my head off or asking me dumb questions” His mind is still stuck on what he saw back at your apartment. 

Low music plays softly in his car as he responds, “It’s nothing, I’m just tired from yesterday.” Softly nodding your head away from him you look out the window and wait until you arrive at his place. It’s silent again for only a few minutes when you decide to speak up again, “You’re such a liar” he turns his gaze away from the road for a second to look at you. “What did I lie about?” 

“You said that your place is just a walk away from mine” he chuckles at your complaining. Secretly you had hoped that you would walk with him to his complex, your neighbors usually take their dog out for a walk at this time and you’d always play with her. “Sorry you should’ve moved closer to me then” he says it as if you had any control over it. You roll your eyes and begin to sink into the comfortable silence. 

He parks the car on the side of the road near his apartment and you both step out of the car. It’s slightly bigger than where you're living and it’s much louder in this part of town.

He takes the lead and walks in front of you to the front of the building. The layout is much different than what you’re used to. Instead of an elevator, everyone has to climb up a set of stairs, thankfully for you, he lives on one of the lower levels. When you reach his home he punches in the numbers into the pad of his door lock. 

Just like yours, beeping comes from inside of his house. To your surprise the place is neat and clean, a few pieces of trash here and there but surprisingly tidy for an apartment with two grown men living in it. “How do you like it?” He asks, throwing his keys into the bowl on the table next to the door. “It’s nice, it’s cleaner than I thought it would be” your eyes glide around the room. He scoffs and says “What? Just because we’re a couple of guys means we can’t be clean?” 

“Uhm yes, actually I do think that” 

“Well, then change your mindset” he says walking over to his sofa. “What do you wanna do? I don’t have much here but you decided you wanted to hangout here so…” you walk over to his kitchen and look through his fridge. “Let’s cook something,” Digging through the drawers, you try to find something you think you’d both like to eat. 

After searching for a few minutes you end up with pork belly, kimchi, and instant noodles you found in the cabinet. You call him over and he groans as he stands from the comfort of his sofa. He finds a spot next to you and looks at the items you have displayed on the counter. “We’re cooking tonight?” You look up at him with a bright smile “Mmmhm!” He laughs at your response. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, tattoos out on display and rubs his hands together. 

“Let’s get started, then shall we?” Of course, he grabs the package of pork and cuts the plastic open with a knife while you look for a pot to cook the ramen in. You bring it to the sink and fill it half way to boil the noodles. It makes a small ‘clink’ sound when it hits the metal of the stove. Jungkook walks over next to you while you sit watching at the pot, waiting for the water to boil. He pulls a pan out from the same cabinet you got the pot from and places it next to you on the stove. 

Once the pan is hot enough he scrapes the cut-up meat into the pan, sizzling as it touches the heat. Smoke fills the air and the apartment starts to smell like pork.

The water starts to boil and you open the package and dump what’s in it into the water. Jungkok grabs a pair of chopsticks from a drawer and picks a piece of cooked meat from the pan. He blows on it and touches it to his lips making sure it’s not too hot to eat. “Here, try it” You open your mouth and taste the flavorful meat. Your eyes close as you satisfy your tastebuds with the cooking.

“Is it good?” Telling by your expression he doesn’t need a verbal answer from you. 

Once everything is cooked you plate it and serve it on the island in the kitchen. You sit on one of the stools and Jungkook stands on the other side of you. “I didn’t know you could cook like this, it’s so good” Slurping sounds reverberate from his bowl as he brings it closer to his mouth. “Who’s feeding my ego now?” he says with a cocky tone. 

“Can you ever go a day without being annoying” 

“Not when it comes to you” 

After you both finish up eating you make your way over to the living room and make yourselves comfortable on the sofa. The TV played whatever they showed during this hour.

Suddenly you start to speak. “You know what happened yesterday?” he hums in response, too immersed in what was playing on the big screen. “Do you remember our waiter from a few days ago?” At the mention of him, he sits up and looks at you. “Yeah, what about him” 

“After you blew me off-” 

“I did not blow you off, I was just busy with my friends” 

“Anyways,” you roll your eyes at his interruption

“I went into the city and ran some errands. But when I was on the phone with my friend I happened to bump into him” he listens to your story intently, not wanting to miss a detail. “I apologized but before I could leave he asked me for my number” 

“And did you give it to him?” he asks curiously. 

“Yeah, I did” he scoffs at your response, a little bit of anger beginning to build up. “Are you serious? Why did he get your number so easily but I had to work my ass off to get it” You can read the anger on his face. You begin to laugh, you laugh so hard that you're clutching your stomach. “Yah! What’s so funny! I didn’t even say anything for you to laugh” This only gets you to laugh even more. 

Not taking any more of this his fingers find your waist, and he tickles you. “Jungkook!” you yell at him. He pushes you onto your back and attacks you. Your legs between his and your arms trying to shove his shoulders away. The biggest smile forms on his lips as he watches your face turn red from how hard you're laughing. “Jungkook, stop!” you say in between laughs. 

He takes hold of your wrist and pins it above your head. Your laughter dies down, and the room becomes silent. His face hovering over yours, your faces inches apart. He doesn’t realize he’s leaning down, lips close to touching. The beeping of the door is heard near the door and Jimin walks through. You both quickly pull away from each other and straighten out your clothes. 

“Jimin!” Jungkook says standing to greet his friend. “This is ___” Jimin walks over to you and stretches his hand out for you to shake. “Ah, the one and only. It’s nice to finally meet you” he says slightly bowing out of courtesy. “It’s nice to meet you too, Jimin” you give one of your sweet smiles. Jungkook looks down at his watch and walks up between you two.

“It’s getting late, I’ll take you home __” you nod your head and give Jimin one last smile. “But we just met, let me get to know her,” Jimin complains. “You’ll get to know her another time, we have classes tomorrow and she has work” 

“It was nice to meet you, Jimin. I hope we get to talk to each other properly in the future” you tell him. He smiles at you and lets you go. 

~ The car ride to your home was filled with comfortable silence and the radio playing lowly. You are stopped at a red light and you look out the window. A dog sticking its head out the window gets a small smile to grow on your lips. “I had a great time tonight” you turn your attention back to Jungkook. His face was illuminated with red from the traffic light. You take in his strong features. His sharp jawline and round nose, a faint scar is indented on his cheek, and his lip piercing shining in the light. 

“I had a great time too” He looks over at you and sees you already looking at him. “Sucks I didn’t get to talk to your friend though. He seems like a nice person.” 

“Yeah he is, I’ve known him since I was in middle school. We went to highschool together and now we're sharing rent with each other. Sometimes it amazes me how fast times fly” he says. 

Small talk is exchanged until you reach your apartment. This time you and Jungkook stay in the car for a bit longer. “Thank you, for today. I had a lot of fun” 

“So did I,” he says. It’s not long before he says something else. “My friends are holding a barbeque at their place in a few days. Do you want to come with me?” This was out of nowhere. You debate whether you should go, you don’t even know them besides Jungkook and Jimin, now. 

“C’mon, you always talk about how you don’t have any friends here. I’m giving you the opportunity to make some.” After this you finally oblige. 

“Okay, okay I’ll go. But only if you make me some more pork belly” he smiles and shakes your head. 

“Deal” he pulls his hand out to seal the deal. You give it a small squeeze and shake your hands. As you look at him you hold onto your hand for more than he should be. Shying away, you let go of his hand and begin to pick up your stuff. “Goodnight, Jungkook,” you say leaning in to plant a small kiss on his cheek. You pull away but your faces stay close together. He looks down at your lips, and he slowly brings his hand to your cheek. 

He’s having an internal battle, thinking if kissing you is a good idea. Fuck it, he pulls you in and your lips mold with his. The cold of his piercing against your lips makes a shiver go up your spine. A small smack of your lips resounds as you pull away slowly, “Goodnight, angel”

The crisp air of the late afternoon hits you, you are standing outside waiting for Jungkook to come pick you up for today’s events. The thoughts of meeting his friends made you nervous for some reason you can’t pinpoint. Maybe you are just scared of what they might think, you need to show off a good impression. His black Mercedes rolls in around the corner and stops in front of you. 

Pulling the handle to the passenger’s side you reveal Jungkook, leaning against the armrest waiting for you to hop in. “Don’t you look cute today,” he says, watching you buckle your seat belt. “Thank you,” you say in a small voice. “You’re so nervous around me all of a sudden,” he says leaning in to look at your face. You look at his eyes, then down to his lips. “I’m not nervous,” you say with confidence in your voice.

“Mmm, then why are you so quiet? I’m used to hearing your loud and obnoxious voice” he teases. A smile creeps onto your lips and you turn away from to face forward. “Just drive, Jeon.” Chuckling, you step on the gas pedal and start to drive away from your complex. “What are your friends like?” you ask. You watch as Jungkook leans his elbow against the door and places his hand under his chin. “Hmm, they are very loud” a small laugh comes from your mouth. “They’re also very warm, I’ve known most of them for a big majority of my life now” 

You admire the way he talks about them as if they were family to him. The bond he describes he has with them seems unbreakable and full of love, you feel warmth spread across your chest at the thought of his friendship with all of them. You begin to realize that you don’t live far from them, only about a thirty-minute drive from yours. Suddenly, those nerves you were feeling before begin to creep up on you again. He notices how silent you’ve become as you get closer to the house. 

“What’s wrong? Did you forget something?” he says, looking at you. You return his gaze and shake off your nervous feeling. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just feel a bit nervous about meeting them,” you look for the right word to say. You shouldn’t be feeling this nervous, Jungkook described them as great people. “Angel, you don’t need to be nervous. They will welcome you with open arms, trust me” The nickname always brings small butterflies soaring in your stomach, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. 

The car pulls into the driveway you look up and gape at the size of the house. It’s not too big, but big enough to hold at least seven people. You and Jungkook both walk up to the front door, once again you feel anxious, “Relax, it’s gonna be okay” his fingers brush softly against yours, his pinky wrapping around yours. He rings the doorbell, and everyone on the other side of the door goes quiet. 

Low chattering is heard and the handle to the door twists and swings open. “JayKayy” Jin says in a brotherly tone. But Jungkook’s attention focuses on his baby niece. “Awhh Minchae, Uncle missed you '' he takes the little girl from her father's arms, squeezing her against him. Her little giggles escape as he places little kisses against her tiny puffy cheek. You watch with a fond smile on your face, how adorable. You’ve never seen this side of Jungkook before, it feels refreshing. 

You follow behind him as he enters the house. The loud chattering comes back to life when they see their youngest out of the bunch. “Hey, guys” Minchae’s arms wrapped around his neck. Standing quietly behind Jungkook’s tall frame you gently tug on his jacket and he turns around to you.

“Oh uh, guys” he places a hand on the small of your back, gesturing for you to walk forward. “This is ___” You bow your head and greet them. “Hello” comes from your mouth softly. Jin’s wife Aria stands up and places a hand over her heart. “You are so cute! It’s nice to finally meet you! Jungkook has not stopped talking about you since-” 

“Aria” Jungkook deadpans. She places a hand over her mouth to contain her laugh. “Sorry, sorry.” 

Jungkook holds a hand out gesturing to the woman next to you. “This is Aria, Jin’s wife” you smile at her and nod your head, a fond smile growing on her face. “This is Taehyung, and you know Namjoon and Jimin” You walk over to where they were sitting and hold your hand out for them to shake. “Oh yeah, we met that one time we went into the city, I remember,” you say to Namjoon. “Yes, it’s nice to see you again ___” He gives you that boyish smile you saw all those nights ago. 

“And this is Yoongi” the quiet man waves his hand in the air and a little smile forms on his lips. Jin comes out from the backyard, clad in an apron and tongs in his hands.

“Food’s ready” Everyone stands up from their seats. A table is set up outside and the big backyard is lit up with fairy lights, setting the mood for everyone. When everyone is content with their plates they all sit around the table and converse with one another. Minchae sat on Jungkook’s lap, slapping her tiny hands against the table. She hasn’t left Jungkook since you both arrived, you find it endearing, the relationship between the two. 

He has a separate plate for her feeding her small spoons at a time when she asks for it. “So, ___. When did you move to the city, is there any reason why you chose Incheon?” Jin asks. 

“Well, I moved here this past summer from Gwangjang. I was offered better things here at the college than what they had back there. It sucks though because I had to leave all my friends. But it doesn’t hurt getting a clean slate” you say. 

“That is right, but I bet you miss your friends too” You nod your head as you think about your life back in your hometown. “Yes, I do miss it over there. But I’ve been enjoying my time over here as well” you say with joy. Everyone begins to talk with you as if they’ve known you for years. It is not as bad as you thought it’d be, and you're grateful for that. 

Everyone decided to head back inside and it grew colder, everyone spread out in different places. Minchae sat on Jungkook’s lap again, playing with his big hands. Her attention falls on you though, you look down to meet her gaze and you give her a small smile. She crawls from Junkook onto your lap and she stares at you looking at your features. He watches his niece make herself comfortable on your lap and looks at her antics. Her tiny hands come up to your cheek. A bright smile forms on your lips as you watch her. 

“Hi, Minchae” softly comes from your lips. 

“Pwetty, Auntie” your heart melts at her small voice, and so does Jungkook's. He watches the interaction with a smile on his face, warmth igniting within his chest. “You’re so pretty,” you say, giving a gentle poke to her round tummy. She lets out a laugh as he wraps her hands around your finger pushing it away. Jungkook’s heart feels like it’s going to explode, watching with fond eyes as you play with his niece. You look over at him and catch him staring, his hand coming up to nudge your chin playfully. 

~

The night is coming to the end and Minchae has peacefully fallen asleep on your shoulder as you hold her back in support. Everyone has settled down, quiet music playing in the room as they all focus on their own thing. Jungkook looks down at his watch and notices how late it has gotten. “I think we should start heading out,” he whispers into your ear. You nod your head and begin to slowly get up, careful not to wake the little one in your arms. 

“Here I’ll take her” Jungkook brings his hand under her arms to pick her up. She moves a bit but falls back to sleep in the man’s arms. “Are you guys heading out already?” Jin says from the couch. 

“Yeah, is it alright if I put her to bed?” Jin nods his head and Jungkook separates from you for the first time tonight and walks up the stairs. 

“Where have you been all his life?” Jin says out of the blue. You turn around to face him and give him a look of confusion. “What?” a small chuckle escapes your mouth. “I have not seen him act the way he does since you’ve met him” A smile appears on your lips and before you can respond Jungkook comes back into the room. “You ready?” he says quietly from behind you, a hand resting on your waist. You look up at him and nod your head, you bend to grab your purse from the couch. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” he says with a wave of his hand. They all say their goodbyes and then, you are both heading back to the car.

You walk up to your door and unlock it, Jungkook stands behind you and waits for you to get in. He expected you to wave him goodnight and disappear behind your door, leaving him to walk into the night. But instead, you turn around and say “You wanna come in?” Shocked, Jungkook freezes in his spot, caught by surprise. He nods his head and walks in behind you. You place your bag down on the small table and plop down on your sofa, Jungkook following, he sits down next to you. 

“Tonight was fun, I didn’t expect us to get along so well. It felt like I’ve known them for years,” you say facing him. Your arms are in your lap, your fingers playing with your ring. “Yeah, that’s what they do to you” he chuckles. “They are all too kind for their own good, that’s what I love about them” 

“I can see why you talked so fondly about them, thinking about the bond you share with them makes me miss my friends back home. We’d hang out almost every night and stay out late going to parties” You reminisce on the old times you and your friends’ wild nights. 

“You have me now, and everyone else,” he says in a low tone. You look up from your lap and smile at him. It is silent between you now, Jungkook can’t help but stare at you in the low light, how beautiful you look. Slowly his hand comes up to the side of your neck, just below your ear. You lean into his touch and your lips part slightly, your gaze falling to his lips and so does his. Lips colliding, your hands find his wrist holding on tightly. 

Your body moves forward, straddling his lap, and his tongue glides over your pillowy lips, seeking entrance. Your lips part allows him access and his hands find your waist, squeezing gently. A small whimper escapes your mouth at the touch; the room filled with the sound of lips smacking. His hands begin to dip lower, till they are right above your ass. Your arms wrap around his neck softly and the kiss gets heated and needy. Teeth clashing against each other and small noises come from your lips.

With his hands under your ass, he stands up and lifts you up with him. Legs wrapping around his middle, without breaking the kiss Jungkook finds his way to your bedroom. He throws you onto the bed as if you were a ragdoll, hands finding the hem of his shirt he pulls it over his head, abs out on display; you can feel yourself become wetter. 

Your hands glide up his stomach, muscles rubbing against your fingers. Jungkook holds onto your hands and brings them up to his neck as you’re kneeling on the edge of your bed. His lips connected with yours once again, but much harsher. His tongue playing with yours, the sloppy sounds of your lips are the only thing heard in the room. Jungkook’s rough hands pull your thin tank top over your head, revealing your perked nipples. You gasp as your body is hit with the cold air in the room. 

Placing wet kisses down your neck, his lips find your chest. He breathes over your nipple and you whimper at the warmth it brings. His lips wrapped around your erect nipple, and you threw your head back in pleasure, hands wrapping around the short hair on the back of his head. “Jungkook” you whimper. His hands wrap around your back bringing it closer to him. He moves on to the other one, giving it the same treatment. Suddenly, he throws you back down on the soft mattress. 

Watching how your tits move with the impact. He hovers over you kissing you with need. Jungkook’s hands find the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down and throwing it onto the floor behind him. Now you’re only left in your panties, barely covering your pussy. He can feel himself grow harder in his underwear, looking down at the goddess that you are. Pushing you up so you’re fully on the bed now he dips down and places soft kisses on your inner thigh. You shiver at the touch and whine his name out again. “Jungkook” 

“What, baby? Use your words” 

“I need you” you moan, your eyes fall to look at him. But they’ve already fallen on you, giving you a sultry look. 

“You’re already so soaked for me,” he says, hooking his fingers on your panties. It’s barely doing its job anyway, he yanks them from your body. Your cunt out, ready for him to devour. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” you nod your head. 

“Uh uh, what did I say baby?” 

“Ugh, yes” you say in a needy tone. “I need to feel you Jungkook, please” Finally getting what he wanted he obliges to your request. 

“Just because you said so kindly” his head dips down, placing kitten licks along your clit, you let out a breathy moan at the first contact of his tongue. Then, he’s diving in. Wrapping his arms around your legs pulling himself deeper into your sopping pussy. You try to move around but Jungkook isn’t having it, his grip on you tightens and his pace picks up. Two fingers find your entrance, pushing in slowly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his thick fingers push up into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook” You bring your hands to prop yourself up, and you watch as Jungkook flicks his tongue up and down between your folds. His fingers start to pick up in pace, and he can feel you squeeze him, he knows you’re close to an orgasm. The burn in your lower stomach begins to build. Moaning, loudly you reach your climax, a hand finding his hair, you tug slightly to get him off of you. Your thighs begin to shake beside you he finally pulls away and brings himself back up to you. You stare into his eyes, big black boba eyes staring back at you. 

You can’t believe that’s the man that brought you to your orgasm. His head dips down to connect your lips once again, you can taste yourself on his lips and you moan into his mouth. “Good job, baby,” he says lowly. Your hand slowly reaches down to his aching cock, and you reach into his pants. The contact you make with his cock gets him to moan into your hair. He stands to remove the fabric from his waist. His hard dick comes face to face with you and you can feel yourself start to drool. 

You bring your hand to wrap around it, giving it a few strokes. His head tilts back in pleasure this time, “Ah fuck yeah, baby” Your thumb rubs over the red tip, and then you bring your lips to plant soft kisses over it. “Don’t fucking tease me” his hand brushes through your soft hair. “C’mon don’t be such a pussy, let me have my fun,” you say. 

“I just ate the fuck outta yours, I really fucking need you” he whines. 

You laugh at his whiny state “Who’s the needy one now?” Finally, your lips around his thick cock, the veins feel up against your mouth. You take him in slowly and his hand guides you as you only take half of it. “C’mon baby, I know you can do better than that” You pull back and take him in a deeper, until the tip hits the back of your throat. You gag slightly but take deep breaths in to calm yourself. “There you go” he praises. Your speed picks up as he pushes you on his cock. Your small hand finds the bottom of his cock where his balls lay. Squeezing them in the palm of your hand he doubles over at the extra pleasure. “Fuck, you’re such a cockslut for me, huh? God,” he says pulling you off of him. 

“Turn around, ass up face down” he demands. You turn around and do what he asks. Your face buries into your pull and you get slightly pushed up as he grabs your ass cheeks. “You’re so fucking beautiful” A smack resounds in the room and you let out a gasp. He rubs over the red mark and plants a kiss over it. He moves his hands down to the dip of your waist and holds you down. 

Giving his cocks a few strokes, he teases it up and down your slit. “Look at you, all dripping n’ shit” you moan at his tone. He pushes in slowly, feeling his veins around your walls. The stretch gives you the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; he stays there for a little to let you get used to his size. He pulls back until just the tip, and then he pushes in all the way, bottoming out. He moves your hair to the side to watch your ass bounce on him. His pace is quick, and his hands find the front of your chest squeezing your soft tits in his hand. 

“Fuck, harder” you moan.

Your head is lying on the side of your pillow, gripping the soft material from the pleasure. His animalistic speed gets you to moan even louder. The sound of his hips hitting against your ass and the flapping sounds are loud in the quiet room. He looks down to where you connect and watches the ring of your cream disappear inside you. 

“Can I record you baby?”

Too lost in pleasure you push yourself up and grab his phone from the side of you after it fell from his pocket earlier. The flash of the camera lights up the room and he watches himself disappear inside you. “Yeah, you like that baby?” 

Pornographic moans escape your lips as you relish the pleasure. “Yes, yes, yes!” you repeat over and over again.

His tattooed hand comes into the frame and rubs over your ass. Your cheeks have become red because of how hard he’s pounding into you. The flash turns off and he throws his phone to the side, his hand cups your pussy, rubbing against your clit. “Cum with me, angel” 

This tips you over, spurts of come covering both your and his legs, dripping onto the mattress. Ropes of white cover your walls as he comes inside of you. You stay like that for a while, not ready for his cock to leave you. When he pulls away, the loss of being filled makes you whine. He walks away from the bed and disappears into the bathroom. You turn over to lay on your back and your arm comes up to cover your eyes, you don’t hear Jungkook come back from the bathroom and you feel the bed deep. 

“Open your legs, baby, I need to clean you” slowly spreading your legs the cool rag drags through your swollen folds. He throws the small towel into a basket in your room and plops himself on top of you. “I gotta pee, move” you slightly shove his shoulder. “Hold on, let’s just stay here for a little bit I’m tired” His hands wrap around your waist and he lays on your chest like it’s a pillow. You both end up falling asleep in each other’s arms.

The light shining through your blinds suddenly awakens you from your sleep. You look next to you and you admire the way Jungkook looks in the morning. Soft snores came from his pink lips, peacefully snoozing away. Slowly his eyes begin to open, and a small smile begins to form on his lips as he takes in your beauty. “Good morning,” he says as he stretches his limbs. Tattoos out on display as he stretches his arms out in relief. He plops them over your slightly covered body and pulls you closer to him. “Morning,” you say softly to him. His doll-like eyes stare into yours then down to your lips. Moving closer, your eyes shut softly as you can feel his soft lips glide against yours. There’s a spark between you. Like fireworks exploding around you and butterflies erupting in your stomach. Something you’ve never felt before. Loud knocking is heard from your door, causing you both to pull away. 

“Give me a second,” you say under your breath. Nodding his head, he lets you go from his soft grip and watches as you pull a robe over your shoulders, tying it at your waist. When you pull the handle to your front door you don’t expect your mother and your best friend on the other side. 

“Hi sweetie!” your mom pulls in for a tight hug, Hoseok next. 

“Hi, guys, what are you doing here?” you say with a look of confusion on your face. “Sorry, we didn’t call. We just wanted to surprise you!” Hoseok says with a beaming smile on his face. “We missed you and wanted to see you. I hope this isn’t a bad time” he continues. 

You look back to your bedroom door as they set their stuff down in the small living room. “Actually-” before you can continue, Jungkook emerges from your room dressed in the clothes from the night before. Both your mother and Hoseok pause. They look at you, then to Jungkook, and then back to you. “Maybe it is a bad time. You know, mom” Hoseok looks at your mother. You two were so close you were practically family. “I saw this cute little cafe down the street, why don’t we go get some breakfast?” he looks back at you and sends you a little wink. 

“Actually I should start heading out, I need to catch up on some of my school work” Jungkook interrupts. 

“It was nice to meet you guys” he bows politely. He walks over to the door with you following behind him. Once you're at the door he turns around to face you. “I’ll see you later?” he says closely. You nod your head and he leans in to place a small peck against your lips. 

Closing the door behind you Hoseok and your mother are left shocked. “You better start explaining yourself young lady” he points a stern finger at you as if you were in trouble. “Yeah, honey. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Otherwise, we would’ve come over at another time” your mom says to you sweetly 

“No, ma it’s okay,” you say, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “He’s no one really, he’s just a friend” This gets you thinking. What are you and Jungkook? You have so many unanswered questions that you want to ask. But these are the least of your worries. “So, how long are you guys gonna be in town for?” quickly changing the subject. “A few days. School starts again soon and I wanted to see you before I went back” Hobi says, bringing you into a hug. “Plus we haven’t seen or heard from you in a while. Now I can see why” he raises his eyebrows at you in a teasing manner. You roll your eyes at him as you begin to tell him what has happened to you recently. 

Back at Jungkook’s apartment, he can’t stop thinking about the previous night he had spent with you. The way you looked at him, the way you touched him, the way you made him feel. This feeling was strange to him, something he had never felt before. Even with his previous partners. He can’t help but replay everything over again. He wonders how you feel right now. Maybe nothing because you’re with your family. 

He gets a notification from his phone. A party invitation to celebrate the end of the semester. He can’t think of partying right now. All he can think about is you. Thinking about how you feel about him, about how he feels. Everything is so complicated. Now he remembers why he doesn’t catch feelings anymore.

Does he have feelings?

Jungkook is pulled out of his trance when he hears the front door open. “Hey, where were you last night? I didn’t see you in your bed” Jimin says, his arms full of bags of groceries. “___’s” he stops in his tracks as he hears your name fall from his best friend’s lips. He quickly makes his way to where Jungkook is. Like a teenage girl waiting to hear about her friend’s first kiss he sits next to him “Did you guys do it? What happened? Are you guys dating now?” Jimin bombards him with endless questions that he doesn’t have the answers to. 

“Yes we did and no we’re not dating,” he says with a sigh. “So what are you?” Jungkook pauses to think of an answer to that question. But truthfully, he doesn’t know himself. “I don’t know, man. It happened so suddenly. She makes me feel something that I’ve never felt before. I don’t know how to explain it” he looks at his best friend. “It sounds like you like her, dude. I’ve never seen you so confused about a girl before. Usually, it’s just fuck and go” 

Jungkook stares at the floor thinking too much on the topic. He hasn’t heard from you since he left your apartment. And it’s driving him crazy. He dismisses it by changing the subject. “So, did you hear about the party that Seonghwa’s throwing?” “Yeah, you gonna go?” Jimin asks. Jungkook only shrugs his shoulders, maybe going will take him away from his worries. After all, it is the end of the semester. He deserves to let loose a bit.

“Hey, sorry I’m late” you look back at the voice. Jungkook leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay, I was just finishing up this last assignment. I was late on the deadline” you say typing on your computer He hums in response. “So are you going to Seonghwa’s party? I guess he’s throwing it as a celebration for the end of the semester” He says leaning in making sure you are looking at him. You laugh at him for his silly antics and think for a moment.

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t have anything else to do so why not?” you shake your head. Finishing up your last assignment you turn it in and finally close your laptop screen. You had been at it for at least two hours with a raging headache. All you wanted to do was lie down and sleep. Jungkook could see it on your face how tired you were.

“You look tired,” he points out. You only smile at him and lean your forehead on his shoulder. He places gentle kisses on your head and rubs small circles on your hand. “You wanna go back to my place?” He can feel you shake your head and he smiles at your actions. 

It’s only later when you bring Jungkook along with you back to your apartment. He lies there on your bed as you finish getting ready for tonight. You both still haven’t talked about that night you spent together and it’s driving you crazy. Jungkook is propped up against the backboard of your bed watching as you get ready. You look back at him in the mirror and you make eye contact.m That same feeling you felt ignites in your chest.

“Can you help me?” you say lifting your hair out of the way. He stands up from your bed and walks over to you.

He places his hand on your waist, the other on the zipper slowly zipping it up. He places a kiss on your bare shoulder and you turn your head to face him. He looks down at you with that same look again, the look that always had your heart racing. He leans down and connects your lips. Using his tongue to separate them, into something more heated. You moan into his mouth, softly pulling at his hair making his head tilt back. Breaking the kiss he smiles down at you and squeezes your waist. 

“Let’s go, Jimin said they started” you nod your head at him. Grabbing your purse and spraying a small amount of perfume around your neck you let him pull you out the door. 

Once you make it to the party, you’re met with the loud noise of people talking and the heavy-based music. You’re hand in hand with Jungkook. He looks around to see if he can find any of his friends. You spot Taehyung at a table full of alcohol talking to a girl you’ve never seen before. He waves over to you and Jungkook. “Hey, guys! Haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?” he pulls you in for a friendly hug, but over his shoulder you can see the girl he was talking with eyeing Jungkook. A familiar feeling of jealousy starts to brew within your chest. 

You brush it off with a smile and nod your head “I’ve been good, How have you been?” you ask him 

“You know, just been around doing whatever. I’m so glad the semester’s over. The past few months have been kicking my ass” he laughs. You were so immersed in your conversation with Taehyung that you didn't realize Jungkook was leaning down to you. “I’m gonna go find Jimin,” he says into your ear. You nod and send him a smile, he kisses the side of your head as he walks away to find his friends. As he’s walking away you catch the girl from earlier, her eyes trail along his well-built body. Once he disappears behind a door into another room she turns her head around back to you.

“Are you guys dating?” you honestly don’t know how to answer her question. Technically you’re not together, but you do things other people who say they are together do. This question stirs up a load of confusion in your brain. Taehyung, noticing the awkward silence on your end, butts in and says “He’s currently not looking for anything right now. You wanna dance?” He holds his hand out for the girl and she gladly takes it. Now that you’re left alone you realize that you don’t really know anyone there. 

You leave your spot on the hunt to look for Jungkook. His back is turned to you. Jimin looks over his shoulder looking at you, his head turning to see who his friend’s eyes had found. Jungkook walks over to you and his free hand finds your waist. “Hi, baby. You having fun?” you nod your head at him. A small smile sprawled on your lips. He notices a look on your face, his eyebrows furrow in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” he says, placing his cup on the counter next to him. You look up to him, his hand finding yours. You can see that look again. The one he gave you before the party, it makes your heart jump in your chest. You only shake your head in response, smiling at him. “Nothing, it’s just a little crowded in here,” you say into his ear. 

“Let’s get out then. This party is kinda lame anyway” he says as he pulls you away. You slightly tug at him, “No, it’s okay. It looked like you were having fun. You stay I’ll just find an Uber” He shakes his head in disagreement, “Really, I don’t mind. I don’t want you out by yourself. Especially at this hour. C’mon” Sighing in defeat you follow behind him hand in hand to the front door. Jungkook had told himself that he’d go to this party to let off some steam.

But he can’t seem to escape you. He doesn’t want to, it’s like you both have an invisible string attached to each other by the waist. You’re all he thinks about now. Everything reminds him of you and it scares him how much he feels for you. How much he yearns for you, but he won’t allow his heart to go through what he endured in the past. When you make it back to his apartment you take off his jacket that he had offered you earlier and place it on the coat rack next to the door. 

“Do you want something to drink?” he says. You look back at him from the living room shaking your head at him. 

“No, I’m fine”

For some odd reason, the air between you two has shifted. It has been different since you spent the night together. None of you dared to bring it up, to discuss what was going on between the two of you. Pulling you out of your thoughts soft music plays through the apartment.

You look up at Jungkook to find him standing next to a stereo playing with the different discs in the tray next to it. He looks back at you and softly smiles. Making his way next to you on the couch he sits closely, to the point you can feel his warmth radiating from his built body. 

Inside conjuring a warm heart, a person that doesn’t match his hard exterior. His bubbly eyes look down at you, with a look that makes your heart pound. He leans in closer, your noses touching, and your breathing pattern slows down to match his. As he gets closer the music starts to fade from your head. He gently places his lips on yours. This feeling is almost like intertwining two souls. Completely magical. This makes his heart rate pick up, the same feeling he had when he came back to his apartment all those nights ago. 

He doesn’t want it to scare him, but it does. 

Something inside tells him he should stop but he can’t. 

His heart is telling him to keep going. 

So, he does.

Your arms find their way around his neck, while his hands grip onto your waist. He pulls you up into his lap gliding his hands up to the zipper of your dress. Jungkook pulls the strap from your shoulder slowly, leaving your dress to pool at your waist, planting kisses on your shoulder. You look down at him with a look of something he can’t describe. It makes him feel warm, comfortable, and almost like he’s meant to be here with you. 

Small moans escape your mouth as he places one of his hands on your cheek moving them up into your hair. The small snap of your bra fills the silence of the room. The touch of the cold air on your perked nipples sends a shiver down your spine. He places wet kisses down your neck, trailing down to your chest. Wrapping his pink lips around you, you gasp out in pleasure. Your hands find a place in his soft raven hair tugging slightly. 

He draws small circles pulling you closer to him. He could never let you go. It’s like you’re a magnet pulling him closer with each breath you take. You’re like a never-ending labyrinth that he can’t escape. 

When did you have such an effect on him? 

The soft touch of your fingers on his abdomen sends chills through his entire body. Lifting his shirt over his head, his abs out on display. You lean down, placing kisses over his chest. Your hand finds its way over his beating heart. His fingers wrap around your wrist, rubbing small circles with his thumb. He watches you intently. Taking in all of your beauty, completely raw. 

What are you doing to him? 

You make his head spin endlessly. For a moment, you’re both still. Staring into each other’s eyes. There’s something different about your dynamic, something more warm, more comforting, maybe even like home. It really does frighten him deeply. But he doesn’t want this to end, ever. Slowly you lean in connecting your lips once again. He turns you over onto your back, his legs on either side of you. He pulls the dress down your legs and undoes his belt as he watches your chest move up and down as you try to catch your breath.

His big hand glides over your chest up to your throat, gently squeezing. He leans down, attaching himself to you. He parts your lips with his tongue. His free hand finds its way into your panties, exploring your folds. You moan out loud as you feel his digits enter. Covering your sound with his lips you moan into his mouth. Brows furrowing in absolute pleasure. He pulls away to watch your expressions. Pure ecstasy is drawn over your face as he adds another finger. 

He can feel himself grow harder in his boxers, watching as you enjoy yourself.

“Yeah? You like that baby?” he says under his breath. You only reply with a soft moan against his lips. Your foreheads together as you have a hand playing with his hair and the other gripping the sofa. He draws circles around your clit, getting to reach your high. Moaning out his name, he crashes his lips against yours. 

Pulling his hand away from your heat, he clutches his fingers around the waistband of your panties pulling them down your legs. He stands to take his boxers off, throwing them to the side. “I wanna taste you,” you say. He looks at you with his doll-like eyes. And then he shakes his head, giving you permission.

“Why don’t we have some fun?”

He lays down on the couch while you move to get on top of him. You take his hard cock into your hand, gliding it up and down. He wraps his arms around your waist planting soft kisses on your thighs. Jungkook leans in and places soft lips against your wet folds pulling you into him. Your hot breath hits the tip of cock and the sounds of his moans send vibrations through your body.  Planting soft kisses to his tip you run your tongue around until you take him in fully. 

This only gets him to be rougher. He completely pulls you down onto your face, drowning himself in your taste. You moan around his dick sucking harder. The fast motions of his tongue get you to pull off moaning out loud. “C’mon, baby. You said you wanted a taste” he teases. 

Your thighs begin to shake as he tongue finds your clit, running figure 8’s harsh. You wrap your lips around him once again and begin sucking. The sound of your wet pussy resounds in the almost quiet room, along with your moans. Your hand starts to stroke him at a fast pace. He moans into you, this gets you to lift yourself off of him. He only pulls you back strongly and quickens his pace. Not being able to take it anymore, you reach your high. You moan around him pulling off of him again. He gives you time to catch up to your normal breathing pattern.

Once you’ve calmed down he lifts you up so you’re facing him. His hands run up into your hair as he admires the way you look right now, sweat glistening across your forehead, your eyes slightly droopy. You’re like a goddess in his eyes. The most ethereal being he’s ever set his eyes on, he can’t look away. 

He runs his nose across your cheek, leaving small kisses on the corner of your cheek. “You ready for one more” he says quietly. 

“Mhm,” you hum softly. Carefully, Jungkook lifts his hips up slightly from the cushion beneath him.

Gently holding you, he reaches down to grab his still, hard cock. Teasing your entrance you moan out from the sensitivity. You dig your face into the crook of his neck muffling your moans. Slowly he enters you, your warm walls sucking him in. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding on to him like he’ll slip through them and disappear. He starts in a slow pace, hands finding comfort on the nape of your neck. You move your head to face him watching his face contort in pleasure. Leaning in you place soft pecks on his lip gradually becoming rougher. 

His pace picks up, roughly thrusting in hard. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your high. “Use me, baby,” you say in his ear. “I can take it” With those words he wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles his face into your neck. “Fuck, angel you’re so good to me” With one last stroke he fills you with his cum. Riding out his high he takes your soft lips with his and brings you into a passionate kiss. He can feel your juices drip from your spent cunt. 

Jungkook carefully lifts you in his arms and brings you to his bedroom, laying you on his bed. He grabs a towel from his bathroom and brings it over to you. The feeling of the wet towel against you makes you twitch. He worriedly looks up at you trying to read your expression. “Are you okay?” he says. 

“Yeah, I’m fine” you whisper, laying a hand on his cheek. 

“You wanna take a shower?” nodding your head you let him carry you away to the bathroom to help you wash up. He walks in first and sets you down on your feet. Jungkook leans over to grab the body wash from the corner of the shower.

Delicately rubbing it across your body. His arm is wrapped around your tummy, keeping you stable. You watch as the soap suds wash away, listening to his calm breathing. Next, he grabs the bottle of shampoo, squirting some into his hand and then soothingly rubbing it into your hair. You turn in his arms wrapping your arms around his waist, closing your eyes as you let him take care of you. That glowing feeling in your chest starts up again. The same feeling you have any time you’re with him. Your ear is against his strong chest. Listening to his heart beat rhythmically. 

You don’t notice how tired you are until you suddenly feel the softness of his pillow hitting your head. Jungkook’s strong arms hold you tightly causing you to fall into a slumber. That night you dream about all of the events that happened.

The loud noise on the other side of the door causes you to wake up. You turn around to an empty spot on the bed next to you. You lay in bed for a moment, replaying the events of last night. When the door opens to Jungkook’s door Jimin doesn’t expect you to walk out of it wearing his best friend’s shirt. “Oh hi, ___,” he says with a pan of eggs in his hand. You look around for Jungkook, but to your dismay, he’s nowhere to be found. “Where’s Jungkook?” you say. 

“Uhh, I don’t know. He’s not in there?” he says with confusion written on his face. 

“No, I thought he’d be out here” 

“I didn’t see him when I got home this morning”

Questions start to brew in your head. You walk over to your purse that you left on the couch, digging for your phone. Looking through your contacts you look for the man in question.

Me: Hey, where’d you go? [9:15 AM]

You walk over to pick up your clothes off the floor, embarrassed as Jimin sits at the table eating his breakfast. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, he never leaves unannounced. You shake your head and give him a small nod. 

When you get back to your apartment you set down your bag on the sofa next to the coffee table, slumping your body down along with it. The TV remote set beside you as you turned it on to kill time now that you no longer had class for the time being. About an hour passes by and still no sign of Jungkook. Your suspicion grows larger. He never takes this long to respond. 

The sound of your keys rings through your ear as you pick them up from the bowl next to the door. You drive with only one place in mind. The rapid knocking disrupts Jin’s peaceful slumber. His mouth was wide open as he sleeps his life away. Quickly he jolts from his bed and walks over to his front door. “Who the hell is knocking at my door at eleven o’clock in the morning?” he grumbles under his breath. When he opens the door he’s met with an irritated look on your face. “__?” 

“Where’s Jungkook? I spent the night at his and he disappeared and now he isn’t returning my messages” 

Jin looks at you in confusion. “Is everything alright? He hasn’t come by in a while” he says 

“I don’t know, I’m just-” you pause

“I’m worried about him” 

Now Jin looks even more confused. “Daddy?” Minchae speaks behind her father, dressed in her unicorn pajamas and half of her hair is up in a small bun. The moment she realizes it’s you on the other side of the door she gasps in joy and quickly runs up to you, engulfing you with her tiny arms. “Hi sweetie,” you say, a soft smile playing across your lips. “Are you here to see Uncle Kookie?!” she exclaims. “Ahhh Minnie, I think mommy wanted to finish doing your hair, only one side of your head is done” 

“Mommy said she was gonna put my hair into space buns!” 

“Ohh so that’s what those are called, well you better hurry up so you look even more beautiful for today” you watch as the father-daughter scene plays out. You can’t believe how much you’ve grown to love this little girl in only one night. Absolutely adorable. “I’m sorry, ___ but I haven’t seen Kook in at least a few weeks.” a look of disappointment grows across your features. “It’s okay, thank you,” you say. 

You sit in your car –completely distraught. Your phone in your hand, tight in your grasp. The device buzzes once, and then twice. No answer. Jungkook looks down at his phone, reading your name with the cute flower emoji that always reminded him of you. He couldn’t bring himself to face you yet. Every single time he’s around you it’s like you consume him. It’s like he’s lost in his own world filled with you. Nobody around him matters except for you – and it terrifies the fuck out of him this feeling completely engulfs him. 

Jungkook lies in the open field close to the park he took you to all those weeks ago. Trapped in nothing but a void of endless thoughts of what he has to do now. Mind hazy. He looks down at his phone again, your name appears once again. For the second time, he ignored it. 

1 month later

The fall leaves crunch under your new Uggs you bought a while back. The new semester has started and now it is time for endless nights of no sleep and studying. The buzzing of your phone vibrates against you, pulling it out of your back pocket. “Hey,” you say. “Hi, you wanna meet up later during lunch?” You pull your phone away from your ear to check if you have any classes around that time. “Yeah, let’s meet up at one?” 

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then” You hang up the phone and continue on your way to class. When you get there, there aren't as many students as you were expecting. Some of them may have still been on vacation. I mean, could you blame them? No one ever wants to go back to school after a long break. But it has to be done somehow. 

You sit down in the seat you always sat at, looking over to the seat next to you. Feeling pain in your chest as you think about the man that would sit next to you every day. The man that broke your heart. Looking away and down at your last semester notes to refresh your brain. 

After the many hours of looking down at your professors, you finally manage to make it to the diner. You slump down into your seat, throwing your bag onto the one next to you. “Rough day?” Hoseok says. He decided to transfer to your school during his second semester. He says that they offered more than they did back home. “Dude, you don’t understand how much my head hurts. It’s only my first day back and I’ve written so many notes it’s not even funny” you complain. Your best friend chuckles at you as he looks down at the menu to figure out what he was going to have for lunch. 

“How do you like the school? It’s nice, right” you ask. He looks up at your question. 

“Yeah, it is. I didn’t realize how big it was” There’s silence for a moment until he speaks again. “Have you heard from him?” You pause whatever you’re doing and bring your attention to him again. Clearing your throat you say “No, I haven’t. And I don’t think I want to” 

“When was the last time you heard from him?” 

“Uh-” you pause

“The last time I spent the night with him after that party” It’s silent again. 

“What a douche,” he says. “He’s an asshole for that. How does he go from being all over you and acting like a couple when-”

“I don’t know, I just wanna stop talking about it.” you interrupt. From then on you only talk about school and the thought of you getting a cat.

“How can they be so cute yet so dumb sometimes?” you ask yourself. The compilation of cats is displayed on the TV as you’re dressed in a thin tank top and a pair of sweatpants. Ice cream in your hands –after the eventful day you had you deserved it. It’s not only when you're interrupted by a knocking on your door. After finally getting comfortable you, once again, have to get up. Maybe it was Hoseok coming back to get something he left. “What did you forget this time?” you yell.

You completely stop when you find that it isn’t your best friend on the other side of your door. But the man that would give you those same sparkly eyes whenever he was around you. “What are you doing here?” it comes out in almost a whisper. “__” Jungkook walks forward to hold you.

You flinch back, moving your arms to cross over your stomach. His heart hurts at your actions. But he understands why you did it.

“I wanna talk to you.” he says quietly.

He steps into the house and closes the door behind him. “What is there to talk about? I didn’t think you had anything to talk about” you threw at him.

“I’m sorry-”

“You’re sorry?”

“You’re sorry for making me look like a fucking idiot?” you can feel your blood begin to boil. Tear ducts forming at your waterline –the lump in your throat beginning to grow, preventing you from speaking.

“You’re not sorry for shit Jungkook, you made me feel so shitty about myself for thinking-” your voice breaks “For thinking what, __?”

“For thinking that you loved me! For thinking that I actually saw something with you, fuck! Jungkook, you don’t understand, you don’t understand how much you hurt me.” you cry to him screaming at the top of your lungs.

Jungkook is completely still. Unmoving.

“I do, love you” he says quietly.

But you don’t take it.

“Bullshit”

You move your head to the side, not baring to look at him. “Get out,”

“Please-”

“Get out! I don’t want to see you anymore” you exclaim. But, he resists. Jungkook walks up to you, wanting so badly to hold you for hurting you. Much to his surprise, you let him. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says into your hair. Your face is buried into his chest, the fabric of his hoodie becoming soaked because of you. “No” you muffle.

“No. No, no, no!”

You push him away. Hitting on his chest, he looks down at you, a shameful look on his face. “Get out! Leave!” you pound on his chest. He takes every hit like it’s nothing. It only irritates you further. “Please, leave Jungkook” he nods in response. Slowly making his way to the same door he walked through.

Sobs echo through the apartment. Falling to your knees you cry into your hands.

Jungkook, still on the other side of the door, hears your sobs. His own tear fell down his round cheeks. He couldn’t do anything but beat himself up over and over again for the way he treated you. For the way he acted towards you and for leaving you in such an awful state. He makes it back to his car, and he sits there for a moment in silence, lip quivering as he thinks about everything he had put you through.

Present 

“Finally! It took you about five thousand years to leave that room” Jimin says dramatically. The afternoon sun was shining and he had been in and out of the house for the majority of the day. However, Jungkook had been wallowing in his guilt. The guilt he’s felt for the past month and the additional days. The quiet boy sits at the counter sluggishly. Days passed since he last saw you. You were all he thought about – day and night every hour and every second. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like a total fuck up” voice groggy. 

“C’mon, have you at least tried talking to her?” there’s a long silence until Jungkook says something. “She doesn’t want to talk-” Just the thought of not being able to hold you or even look at you is killing him on the inside. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me. Man, what the fuck am I going to do? I’m so lost” he admits. 

He was so scared of this. Losing you. You were the bane of his happiness and he did everything but keep you safe, instead, he completely let everything go – including you. The cluttering of the bowl and spoon snaps Jungkook out of his thoughts. “Well you need to eat, I haven’t seen you this disoriented since you had to say bye to Gureum when you left home. You’re even worse now” 

His appetite has gone away ever since he stopped talking to you. He had been spiraling, thinking all about you – how he felt about you. He couldn’t take it anymore, the overthink, the constant hurt of not spending his time with you. Staring at his bowl of cereal contemplating if he should call you, he doubts you’d ever pick up but he has to try, right? Jungkook stands from the counter and walks back to his room. “Hey! You didn’t finish eating!” Jimin exclaims from the other room. Frantically, Jungkook searches everywhere for his phone. He hadn’t picked it up in days and has been sitting somewhere in his room untouched. 

Finally, when he finds the piece of technology he quickly presses the power button; wishing for it to turn on already. To his dismay, it had been dead since he set it down. He looks around for his charger. After finding the wretched thing he plugs it into the outlet next to his bed and plugs the other end into his phone. 

After what felt like hours the phone displayed a white apple in the middle of it. He scrolls through his contacts looking for your name desperately. That flower that will forever remind him of you appears in front of his eyes and he quickly clicks it. The multiple rings vibrate through his ear. 

“C’mon” 

Your call has been forwarded–

“Fuck” he tries one more time. The ringing begins but quickly ends after the fourth. His brows touched in distraught. “Fuck __,” he says under his breath. Out of impulse, Jungkook picks up whatever clothes he finds first and throws them on. Not caring about how he’d look in front of you. 

He rushes out of his bedroom door and picks up his keys from the bowl set on the counter. After hearing the noise Jimin says “Where are you going?” but before the younger could respond he was already out of the door. Upon opening the door Jungkook swiftly closes it when he gets into the driver’s seat and carefully but hurriedly makes his way to your place. 

A stop light prevents him from getting there any quicker he yells “Fucking light, hurry up!”. 

Following up after many stop signs and stop lights, he finally makes it to the place he yearns to be at the most. Almost running up the steps he trips over one. “Shit” He reaches your floor and walks up to the door. Repeatedly knocking on the wood. He takes his phone out of his sweat pocket and pulls up your chat. 

Me: Please open the door [3:00 PM]

He waits for the dancing dots to appear and when they do his heart jumps for just a moment but only for it to settle down after reading your text. 

__ 🌺: no i don’t want to see you [3:01 PM]

“I’m not gonna go away unless you open this door!!”

“Go away Jungkook!” he hears your voice over his excessive knocking. 

“Please, I want to talk to you” It’s only when he hears shuffling on the other side of the door that he stops. 

Everything disappears when he sees your face again. After going a day without seeing you. “What do you want” your eyes look everywhere but him. 

“I love you.” 

“And before you say anything let me just explain” you stand there blankly looking at his boba like eyes that you always adored. 

“I love how much you care for others, I love how you can take a joke and not get upset about it, I love the way you look at me, I love the way you are with me, I love everything about you, __” you stare at him with glassy eyes. You bite your lip, preventing yourself from letting out a sob. 

“I love you so much that I’m scared that I’ll lose you. Scared that you won’t love me back. Fuck I love you so much that it pains me to see how much I hurt you” now Jungkook has tears forming. You hear him sniffle, your hand coming up to wipe the tear that had slid down his cheek. 

“Oh, Jungkook”

“I love you, too” 

After hearing those three words, his hands cup your cheeks. “I love you so much,” he says against your lips — softly pecking until he wraps his around yours.

The early night breeze flows through your window. The large man wraps his arms around your waist, holding on to you tightly – almost as if you’d vanish if he let go. Your hands are tangled into his hair playing with the soft mane against your fingers. A show plays in the background that none of you are really paying attention to. His hands find their way under your shirt softly touching your skin. It’s not until you yawn into your hand does he looks up at you. “Are you tired?” 

“Yeah, a little bit” 

He moves up so he’s now in front of your face, and his eyes move down to your lips. Gently brushing against them. One of your arms wraps around his neck – securing him in his spot. “Do you want to go to bed?” you shake your head up and down and stare into his bright eyes. 

To your surprise, he tightens his grip around your waist and properly carries you to your room. Jungkook kicks the door open softly and carefully places you on the bed. He hovers over you for just a moment until he’s leaning in. Lips locking, his hands roam your stomach. His tongue tangles with yours, his hand moving towards your face, cuffing your cheek delicately swiping his thumb over it. 

“Let’s go to bed,” he says, pulling away a bit. 

“You know what, I’m not really that tired. 

That sly grin appears on your face and he shakes his head at it. “Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, maybe I can stay up for another hour or two” 

Slowly, he slides your body up further on the bed, hands roaming your waist. His lips place feather-light kisses on the side of your lips. Your arms wrap around his neck bringing him closer to you – your lips colliding. Delicately, handling you as if you’d break if he was any rougher. “Can I take this off?” 

“Mm” Jungkook’s fingers hook with the waistline of your pants slowly dragging it down your body. Along with your panties, the cold air hits your pussy – a shiver running along your spine. Jungkook kisses down to your waist, lifting your shirt a bit to reveal the softness of your skin. 

His mouth hovering over your nether lips. Kisses are pressed against your inner thigh. Your head tilted to the ceiling, relishing in his careful touches. Finally, Jungkook’s hands wrap around your thighs, bringing you closer to him. The warmth of his breath against your sex. 

Your hands find comfort in his soft raven hair tugging harshly, you plead “Please, baby”

“I gotchu Angel, don’t worry” his eyes look up at your desperate expression. He dives in, licking a long stripe against your tainted pussy – legs thrown over his shoulders. Moaning, your other hand finds the pillow beneath your head. His erratic movements pull sounds from you that he’s been yearning to hear for so long now. 

In complete bliss, he brings you impossibly closer. His tongue finds your bundle of nerves running figure 8s along where you’re most sensitive. A finger prods at your entrance, slowly but surely entering you. “Fuck,” 

“Yeah? You like that baby?” he watches as your face contorts in pleasure. Soon enough he adds another. The nasty sounds of your soaked pussy fills the room. “Right there, Jungkook” 

“Am I making you feel good Angel?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you scream. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cu-” It’s then again that his mouth dives in. Much rougher, his tongue faster. The squeeze to your thighs and his harsh movements are what send you over the edge.  “Yes! Jungkook, right there baby” you moan. Your essence spills onto him, he takes his time cleaning you up with his mouth. Your hips twitch out of sensitivity. 

“I know, baby. I know” 

He kisses your stomach before making his way back to you. He connects his lips with yours, you can taste yourself on his tongue. The sides of his mouth are wet from your cum. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one without clothes” 

Jungkook’s hands run along the sides of your waist. “Who said I was done?” 

He stands tall in front of you. His hands fall to grab the hem of his shirt – pulling it away from his torso along his sweatpants and boxers. His cock hitting his stomach, the sight making you drool. 

Hurriedly he connects your lips, tongues colliding. Your hand finds the nape of his neck playing with his now long hair. The same feeling explodes within his chest. The same feeling he was so scared of dealing with, now becoming a part of him. 

“I need you, baby”

“You have me, my love” 

Love. So unfamiliar yet it comes so natural to him now – with you.

His cock prods at your entrance, sliding it against your wet pussy. “Eugh, baby please, please” you beg. Jungkook places small kisses against your lips as if to calm you down. “I gotchu baby, I need you to relax for me” 

Slowly he slides home, easily entering you. Wrapping your arms around his neck –holding tightly. His hips rock into yours slowly at first. The euphoria of finally being with you filled his mind. 

At last, he’s with the one he most treasures, the person that has found home in his heart. 

His hands ran along your thigh, lifting so your legs were wrapped around him. After making sure you were comfortable enough he picks up the pace. The room is filled with the filthy sounds of your moans combined with the squelching of your pussy. 

“You okay baby?” 

Your head bobs up and down you say “More than okay”

He worships you through the whole night. Thanking every star above that they’ve brought you to him. “I love you, angel, so much,” he says in an almost whisper. His hand cupped your cheek running his thumb along the softness of your cheek.

“I love you too” stars are in your eyes. Watching as the man before you admires every part of you. Never wishing to let go. His hand comes down to where you need him most. Rubbing figure 8s along your clit. And this drives you over the edge. Your thighs shake, clenching around his cock – sucking him in. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum” 

“Please come in me, baby. I need you so bad” 

With his final thrust, your walls are covered with white ropes of his cum. The room is now silent, only filled with your breathing. “Did I hurt you?” he says. Silently shaking your head you look up at him, examining every freckle and mole on his well-structured face. “Let’s get you cleaned up then, hmm?” 

“Okay” 

Jungkook gets up and walks over to your bathroom, already knowing where everything is. When he comes back to the bed he finds you fast asleep. A small chuckle escapes from his lips as he plays with the towel in his hands. He picks up his boxers he had tossed somewhere across the room and puts them on. He looks through your drawers and looks for something more comfortable for you to sleep in. 

Carefully he dresses you in one of his T-shirts he had left there a while ago and your panties. Jungkook tucks the both of you into bed, cuddling into your chest. Quietly he says “I love you, Angel. More than you’ll ever know.

 The room is still dark when you wake up. The dim lamp is lit on the corner of your desk. Jungkook is sat up against the headboard, his phone illuminating his strong features. The clock beside you reads 5:45 AM. He hears the ruffling of your sheets beside him, pulling his attention away from his phone and to you. 

“Hey, what are you doing awake?” you say. He shrugs his shoulders and replied “Dunno, couldn’t sleep” 

“I was up all night thinking” 

“Thinking about what?” he strikes your curiosity. “About how much I hurt you, and how I caused you to hurt so much because of my stupid feelings-”

“Baby, it doesn’t matter now. We’re together now, right? Let’s focus on us right now. Not what happened in the past” you say, kissing the mark on his shoulder. “I know, it’s just” he pauses. “I should’ve talked to you, instead of walking away, y’know? This all could’ve been avoided if I had just came to you.” 

“I know that it’s hard to express what you’re feeling. But I can help you through that. The only way I can do that is if you don’t shut me out, I need to know what’s wrong so we can get through whatever it is together” his eyes are focused on his fingers playing with the comforter. 

“Hey, look at me” Your hand tilts his head towards you. Those bubbly eyes looking at you now. “I need you to talk to me, okay?” he nods his head. Eyes teary after thinking about everything. He sniffles, lips quivering. “I love you,” you comfort. You run your thumb across his lips gently, calming him down. “I love you too” You lean closer to him, placing kisses against his lips. 

-

“Uncle Kookie!!” Minchae calls for her favorite uncle. “Hey, munchkin, how are you?” he places a kiss on her cheek. You watch from behind your boyfriend smiling from ear to ear watching him with his baby niece. “I’m good! Hi auntie!” she says to you next. “Hey Minnie, I missed you!” you say as she practically dives into your arms. You both walk to the backyard where everyone else is. Everyone greets the both of you warmly. Hugs are given and small conversations are made. 

You have occupied yourself with Aria as you speak on and on about how much Minchae has grown. Watching her play with all of the toys she had lying around in the grass. Jin and Namjoon stood by the grill conversing as well. Jimin had been playing one of his Mario games with Taehyung and Yoongi had his guitar in his hand, playing a soft melody, setting the mood.

This is what Jungkook had been looking for: surrounded by the people he loved the most. His eyes find you watching his niece do one of the funny dances she always likes to do. A smile adores your pretty lips, your cheeks rosy from the slight fall breeze. He loved seeing you happy like this, loved how you were with his friends, loved the way you always had room in your heart for anyone, no matter the circumstance. 

Jungkook loved you and will forever say those three words for the rest of his life.

yay!! after so long, I've finished wait for your love 🥹. it has been a long time coming but i pray you all like it. this has to be my favorite to have written AND my longest! i do hope that in the future that i have the ability to create more stories like this one. i do have a few ideas in mind but ill let this one sink in 😊. happy reading lovelies 💜

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e

Deadpool and Wolverine but your lady pool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is a complete self insert with just everything I was thinking about during the movie and since then I’ve watched it three times. It gets better every time. Snippets of the movie, will probably do a part two. SPOILERS!]

part two

Warning/disclaimer: femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, sexual language, offensive language, just being a whore the man, cursing, repeat daddy issues, never proof-read.

After digging up Logan and expecting to find a shirtless and oiled-up Hugh Jackman, you were a little more than disappointed to find the bones and metal. 'Damn it! Shit! Fuck! They Les Mis'd him!'

Eventually, you settled down next to the remains, against the same log that had impaled him. 'That was weird,' you chuckled. 'I'm much calmer now. Look, I'm not a woman in stem but you seem incredibly dead to me. Oh, you sexy lump of bones and metal. I would have let you slide them into me any day.'

'But it's good to see you,' you pat his knee. 'I gotta be honest, I've always wanted to ride you, Logan. Oh, whoops, I meant with you. Ha! Who am I kidding, no I didn't. Just you and me, getting into it. And I mean into it. Every style. Doggy. Sixty-nine. On the kitchen counter to the bathroom. Till my back broke. Yea, we'd have been good together.' You ranted, fantasies flying across your mind too quick to focus on one.

With your red-gloved hand, you jerk the chin. 'G'day mate, there's nothing that'll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash. Ha- I hear you, Hugh. But no, no, no, no you had to go and get all noble and die for real. I could really use your help right now. And a massage. Your big manly hands just rubbing all over me-'

Just as you were about to go into further detail about what you want him to do to you, the sound of portals opening and heavy boots stomping closer alerted you.

Quickly, you pulled the skeleton down on top of you.

'There are two hundred and six bones in the body. Two hundred and seven if i'm watching Van Helsing.'

Que the fucking montage.

You have a mission. Find a Logan to take back with you. First up you end up in a bar, catching an axe as it was thrown at you. 'Logan! I'm gonna need you to come with me.'

The Logan sitting at the bar slowly turned to you. 'Who's asking? ' He slipped from the bar stool to reveal a 5'3 Logan.

You coo. 'Well, who's this little ankle biter. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes you did, comic-accurate short king. Such a cute little Wolvie.'

The little guy started stalking toward you.

'Que the fucking montage.'

You found a Wolverine for the seventies, or eighties, something close enough to that, one hand missing. 'Oh yea, sexy, you have anchor being written all over you.'

You found patch Logan. 'Oh hello, Patch. Should've worn my white suit.'

You found another old man Logan, sitting solemnly on his front porch. 'Howdy! Oh, I see, you're the daddy issues one. Good to see god has answered my prayers. So soldier, do I need to be a bad girl so you put me over your knee, daddy?'

Another was tied to a cross with red bloody skulls acting as a floor.

One was dressed in a tight yellow and brown suit, walking through the woods. 'Hubba hubba. Classic! Now, you fought the Hulk in this suit, right?' as he snicked his claws out, the green of the beast reflected from behind you. 'I am Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I will not be-'

One, your favourite, was working on a bike in a tight white vest and dark pants. You drooled. 'That's the whole goddamn package right there. You know from behind you look a bit- holy Shit!' he turned, and everything about him was Wolverine. Except for the fact he was Henry fucking Cavil. 'The Cavalry has arrived. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Can I say, sir, sorry, daddy- on behalf of all of humanity, this just feels right! We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!'

He took the cigar from his mouth, stalking to you. You had never been so aroused in your life. 'You were just leaving'

Giggling and twirling your hair, you hold a hand out, ghosting over his chest. 'Can I just, one- one touch. Oh my god! You're like Superman or something.'

He punched you right into the Logan you needed. Thank you Cavil.

'You two gonna fuck or fight?' asked the bartender. 'Both if i'm lucky,' you said.'

'Oh look at those sexy little jammies, that only took twenty fucking years!'

The trash heap was the last place you wanted to end up, but when you woke to Logan looming over you, a snarl on his face, you sighed in relief.

'Well, hello sexiest man alive, 2008. Wanna give me a hand? Or head?'

He sniked his claws out.

'Kinky! That's new for Disney!'

He dug his claws into your ribs and dragged you up with them. 'Where the fuck are we?'

'I dunno, but it looks a bit mad maxxy to me. But that would be IP infringement right?'

'Fucking jokes,' Logan uttered. He threw you over his leg, your back breaking.

'Till my back breaks, Wolvie!' you yelled out, quickly rolling yourself back up and shaking it off. 'Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm a big fan. How about we strip off our suits, take a tumble in the sand, get to know one another you know. Personally, I'm more of a cowgirl fan but I'm willing to do whatever you want baby.'

'You're unbelievable,' he grumbled. It was still sexy. He turned his back to you.

'Oh, I see, is that what you did when your world went to shit!'

He paused, his head slowly turning to you. 'Say again, bub?'

'Oh, I am so horny right now.'

The two of you engaged in a fight, and not the sexy stradling fight that would happen later, but the guns firing, swords slashing kind of fight. that was only interrupted by a familiar voice.

The only other voice that could have you dropping your panties as quick as Wolverine. He was hooded, hidden, but you knew him from your sex dreams.

'Dear god almighty, it's him.'

'Who?' growled Logan.

'Don't be jealous baby, I have two holes for a reason. Don't worry gorgeous, you're gonna encounter some delicate language, a smidge of ass play but we've been prohibited from using cocaine, at least on page.'

He raised a hand. 'They're coming.'

'Who's they?'

The three of you watch cars and trucks drive through the waste, keeping you trapped. There were familiar faces, Pyro, Toad. And Sabertooth.

The mysterious figure jumped down and mastered the superhero landing that had you clapping your hands and jumping up and down.

'Oh my god! Oh my god!' you held onto Logan's shoulder as you jumped while he just glared at you.

'I've got this,' the man takes down his hood, showing the beautiful, hot, strong, handsome, hubba-hubba worthy, Chris Evans.

'Oh yes, you do sexiest man alive, 2022!' you cheer.

'Stay close,' Chris- or Steve- called back to you.

You stalk over to him. 'Aye aye, Captain.' you wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers trailing over his abs. He removes you and you groan, sulking. You walk back to Wolverine and jump onto the side of his hip.

Instinctively he holds your ass which makes you giddy before he realises his mistake and drops you.

'You're not gonna love what happens next,' shouted the captain.

Your jaw dropped from behind the mask. 'Holy shit, omg! No way, he's gonna say it! He's gonna say it!' you flick one of your swords that was still poking out of Wolverine's chest. 'Avengers-'

'Flame on!' Steve- no, Johnny- yelled and took to the skies in a ball of fire.

It was sort of stupid in hind sight as Pyro lifted a hand and extinguished him, causing him to fall from the skies and go crotch first into a billboard.

'No!' you screamed, rushing to him and rolling onto his back to get a look at him. 'No, no baby, stay with me. Let me take a look!' you tried to pull down his pants but Logan literally pulled you off him.

You were tied up with Wolverine on the front side of you and Johnny on the back. When you woke, you giggled. 'Woah, just like my dreams.'

Johnny woke to, lifting his head from your shoulder. 'How long was I out?'

You smirk under the mask, looking back to him. 'Not all of you was asleep, say Cap, is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

'Is that Chuck? Hey Chuck, over here! Hope it's you young, god, we got James Macovy in this?' you yelled as a wheelchair rolled out as you entered the thing that was apparently large Paul Rudd.

'Cassandra Nova. Charles's twin,' the villain introduced herself.

'Holy shit,' said Logan.

'How was anal birth?' you asked.

Cassandra smirked. 'You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.'

'Right!' you cheered. 'Just wait till this ends, the smut is off the charts!'

She took the chain from around the two of you but you wrapped yourself around Logan's arm, he only grunted at you. He only pushed you off when you started to go off and off about what Johnny said about Cassandra. 'People think i'm a shit talker but this guy-' you chef's kiss. 'Next level!'

Cassandra, with a flick of her hand, shed the skin from him as he fell in a heap of bones and blood and skin,

You cried out, holding onto Logan for dear life. 'My favourite Chris!'

'You silly little bitch, you just got him fucking killed!' yelled Logan.

'Fine, spank me then! P.S. Do you know what he was doing to the budget!'

You were brought to Ultimatum with Cassadra, Oliath or the other British villain, but all you wanted was to save your world, bang Wolvy and go home.

'I didn't want it to come to this, either you help us or my boyfriend here is gonna perform the whole of Greatest Showman as a one-man show,' you warn.

'I'm not her boyfriend,' Logan grumbled.

Cassandra went on a trauma dump that had you groaning. 'Couldn't you just turn into accomplishment like the rest of us?'

But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together.'

'Sorry lady, he's taken!'

'Not for long,' Cassandra smirked and as Logan attacked, she sent him in the ground and away from you. You only whined at his disappearance, a whine that turned into a groan when Cassandra's fingers entered you in the worst way possible. Through your head.

'What can I see here?' she asked. Cassandra gasped. 'Oh, you are a whore.'

Oh yes, she saw the million filthy things you wanted to do to Logan.

The two of you made it out and to the diner where Logan was intent on finding food and taking rubbing alcohol shots. When he sat across from you, chucking a tin of spam at you, you pulled of your mask.

Logan stilled, looking at you with finally something a little different than anger.

'What?' you asked.

'I thought you'd be ugly under there.'

'No- no, that's the Deadpool. I'm better, and a self-insert.'

The two of you took to walking through the rather nicer side of the waste. You had his hand in yours, swinging it happily like you were a couple before he threatened to chop your hand off.

'You said Logan was a hero, what happened?' he asked.

'You died. Technically you were chest fucked by a tree, but really you just ran out of batteries trying to save this girl- a kid really. Always wanted a man who's good with kids. The shit heels who grew her in a lab called her x-23, but she was just a kid. A smaller, cute and mean version of you. Yep, you saved her, very hero, very demure.'

The two of you were interrupted when a bark sounded over the hill and the BEST DOG EVER ran out to you, ears flapping in the wind, tongue out as it always was. The little boots. The collar. It was Dogpool.

You threw off your mask and picked her up, cuddling her close. 'She's coming with us.'

'No she's not!' he argued.

'Yes, she is!'

'No!'

You pulled out your puppy dog eyes and lifted the dog to your face and slowly the resolve in his face slipped.

'Sorry!' another man ran out, chasing after the dog.

'Fucking shit bag!' you cursed.

It was another dead pool, a good-looking one with long hair.

'What's Ryan Reynolds actually doing here, I thought I replaced him?' you said.

'In here everyone calls me Nicepool.'

'Can we have your dog?' you asked immediately.

He laughed. 'over my dead body!'

You nod, thinking about it but Logan holds out his arm before you can even move.

Whatever Nicepool was saying was you didn't care as you cooed and hugged the dog closer and Logan watched.

Fuck, he was paying attention to you.

'Why are you so nice?' you asked eventually.

'It costs nothing to be kind,' he said.

'Shutting the fuck up is also free,' said Logan.

You bite your lip in his direction. 'God I am so attracted to you right now. This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he's let himself go since the divorce.'

Finally, the Nicepool took you to his ride to get you and Logan and the dog to the borderlands.

It was a honda fucking odyssey.

Logan wasn't willing to listen to your complaints. 'Get in the fucking car.'

'Make me, Daddy,' you said.

He took one step closer to you and you backed away with the dog. 'No, we're running away!'

Logan forced her from your arms and handed him back to the Nicepool.

'The corn was to dense girl!' you called after her, pouting.

Logan shoves you into the passenger seat while he takes the wheel.

You pull of your mask, hair falling around you like you were in an advert. 'So, what shall we do to pass the time...'

Honda Odyssey coming soon, that my friends, is called edging.

[skeltnwrites]

At Least It’s Not the End of the World ♡

After protecting the kids from demodogs and sentient tunnel vines with Steve, a weekend babysitting Holly Wheeler together is supposed to be simple. That is until feelings neither of you expected start to make things way more complicated.

gn!reader, takes place in between seasons two and three, people who fight monsters together to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff 16k

── .✦

It doesn’t take long to remember why Holly is your favorite Wheeler. She’s patient and sweet, amazingly level-headed for a preschooler, and her manners could put some adults to shame. Compared to her siblings, Holly’s a little sweetheart. And a mama’s girl through and through, clinging to Mrs. Wheeler more often than not. 

Like now, she wriggles in her mom’s lap, scrunched over a coloring book at the dinner table. She squints at her box of crayons and purses her lips— choosing colors is hard when you’re five. She hasn’t said a peep since you arrived, but in the foyer, she greeted you with a clumsy wave and a sheepish smile. 

“It would be Friday afternoon to Monday morning,” Mrs. Wheeler explains, stirring a glass of lemonade with a curly straw. “I’d ask Nance but she’s having a girl's weekend.” 

You glance at Steve. You know girl’s weekend is code for spending the night with Jonathan Byers. But if he knows it too, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t so much as bat an eye at her words. In fact, he’s relaxed under Mrs. Wheeler’s gaze. He’s sitting in a chair he’s sat in dozens of times before, talking to a woman he sees more frequently than his own mother. 

You don’t know her as well as he does, but you aren’t strangers by any means. 

“And Mike, well, he’s not old enough to watch her for that long. But he’ll be staying over at Joyce’s so you don’t have to worry about him,” she pauses to sip her drink. “I’d pay you, of course. I don’t know what your schedules look like— I know you’re probably busy with the new job, Steve— but I figured since it’s a few days, I’d offer it to you both.” 

Steve flashes an honest smile and leans forward. “Are you kidding? I’d hang with this squirt for free. I’m actually off this weekend so it works out.” 

Mrs. Wheeler beams, eyes springing to yours. 

“Yeah, I could help too,” you shrug. You also happen to be free this weekend and the extra cash would be nice. 

“Great! You both are so lovely. Oh, I was so worried, I kept telling Ted– well, it doesn’t matter now.” Her bracelets clink and clash as she reaches across the table to cover your hand with hers. “You’ll have to keep an eye on these two. She becomes quite the riot when her Stevie comes over.” 

Steve chuckles and raises his hands in defense. “She owes me a rematch at Candyland so I can’t promise anything.” 

Mrs. Wheeler’s fingers retract from yours, landing on the end of Holly’s pigtail. “She’s really missed having you over. Asks about you still.” 

Holly ducks her nose into her paper, pink traveling up her ears. 

“Is that right?” Steve teases. “I’ll have to swing by more often.” 

“Please. You’re welcome anytime, Steve. Whether Nancy’s here or not.” Her attention drifts to you. “And the same goes for you. Mike won’t stop talking about that comic book you gave him.” 

A smug grin surfaces. Out of all of the kids, Mike is a tough one to please. 

“I’ve never been away from Holly for so long. But I trust you guys.” Mrs. Wheeler pecks Holly’s crown to hide a wobbly smile, her sentence spilling out in a breathy string of words.

She really does trust you both. It would take another set of hands to count the number of times either you or Steve had driven her kids home safely. This is just different. She loves all of her kids equally, but Holly’s her baby. 

Holly’s eyes cast up at her mention, bright as a sunlit gem. 

Mrs. Wheeler smooths her daughter’s sleeves down her shoulders. “But Holly’s a good girl. Right, Hollybear?” 

She turns to bury a toothy smile in her mother’s shirt. 

Mrs. Wheeler is meticulous as she presents each and every detail of Holly’s routine. From car seat safety to emergency contacts to allergies, she covers every question you might have before you have it. 

Steve’s a good listener but he’s cursed with a very short attention span. Mrs. Wheeler lost him somewhere around Holly’s sudden aversion to mac and cheese, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You’ll fill in the gaps for him later. 

This won’t be the first time you’ve babysat with Steve. Dustin roped you both into hunting his pet lizard-turned-alien which very quickly escalated to protecting four children from not one, but several, vicious aliens. Safe to say you two are experienced enough to handle one kid for a couple of nights. 

You haven’t seen Steve much since then. It’s summer now. The demodogs and sentient tunnel vines feel much more like a dream than something that actually happened to you these days. Steve works at the Scoops in Starcourt, or so you’ve heard several times– Dustin only reminds you about every time you see him. But despite being as close to death as you’ve ever been beside Steve, visiting him at work feels strangely wrong. Like crossing a line that neither of you ever drew. 

You would not consider Steve Harrington your friend. You’re friendly, as you might be with a neighbor or coworker, but you don’t talk much outside of ​​world-ending, portal-to-another-dimension kind of events. He’s family in a weird sort of way, bound by the shared trauma and unspoken loyalty— like someone you only see at family reunions, familiar enough to care about but still a stranger in most ways. High school was a long blur and your circle of friends couldn’t have been farther from his. So you don’t know Steve, not really. But of what little pieces of him you have come to know in the last year, he’s not half bad at babysitting.

ᯓ★

On Friday afternoon, you park your car beside Steve’s shiny BMW in the Wheeler’s driveway. You take the house key that had been slipped from Mrs. Wheeler’s key ring to yours and unlock the front door. And you find that inside, it’s completely silent. Holly’s quiet as a mouse but she’s still a kid and kids make noise. 

Your bag drops onto the floor beside Steve’s shoes as you toe off your own. When the kitchen and living room turn up empty you jog upstairs. Alarm sinks in on the last step where you still hear nothing. No shouting, no laughing, no crying, no nothing. 

There’s a large window in the hall upstairs, dividing Nancy’s room from Mike's and Holly’s. In your panic, you miss the suspicious lumps in the drapes that frame it. 

As you brush by, Steve rips the curtain across the rod and shouts, “Ha! Gotch– Oh.” 

Your entire body jerks, fear cinching every nerve. “Christ! Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry!” 

Your nostrils flare with hot air as you shove him, “You scared me!” 

His open palms hover in between your chests, unsure how to help. “I thought you were Holly. Sorry.” He gives you an apologetic once-over before a breathy chuckle escapes. 

“It’s not funny. All the shit we’ve been through. God.” He’s lucky you didn’t punch him. A part of you still wants to. 

“Mommy says that’s not a nice word,” Holly says from behind you. 

You turn, shoulders sagging in relief. “I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry.” 

“Stevie, I was supposed to find you,” she whines incredulously, hands planted on her hips. 

“We can go again. I’ll find a new spot.” 

Her frown mends as quickly as it appeared and she skips back to her room to count. 

“Sorry,” Steve reminds you. “Help me find a spot to hide?” 

Soft eyes, a softer smile. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks at you like that. “Okay.” 

Twenty seconds isn’t very long to hide. Especially when Holly counts as fast as she does and when you spend half of your time standing in the hall. So you end up crouched in the corner of Mike’s closet, Steve arched over you, trying his hardest not to crush your toes. 

“Jesus. Does this kid even wash his clothes?” Steve whisper-shouts. “It smells like something died in here.” His palm snaps to the wall behind your head, the flesh of his arm warming your ear.

“You actually couldn’t have picked a worse place. Oh my God.” You press the neckline of your shirt over your nose. Steve’s wearing enough cologne to drown out the stench of dirty socks, though it’s choking you all the same. 

“We had like three seconds. I panicked!” 

You’re glaring at him but only a fraction of light filters in from underneath the door so you’d guess he doesn't see. 

The closet is the first place Holly checks when she barges into Mike’s room, but you’ve never been happier to be caught so fast. 

“My turn!” She glows in victory, pigtails swishing like yellow ribbons as she shouts. 

Steve huffs. “Let’s take a break. We’ve been playing for like an hour.” 

“Can we play tag?”

“In a little while. I’m tired.” He pinches her neck playfully until she squirms out of reach. “How’d you have all that energy?”

She shrugs with her whole body. “I dunno. I’m a kid.” 

A laugh bubbles out of your throat. When your eyes flit to Steve you find him already smiling at you. 

“What about something a little more chill,” you suggest. “We could color?” 

“Bracelets?” 

“You want to make some?” 

She nods, “I can’t reach them. The beads are on top of my closet.”  

“I’ll get ‘em,” Steve offers. “Come show me where.” 

You fan out her multitude of craft containers across the kitchen table. Beads, charms, strings, all neatly filed away. She pops open a lid and plunks down across from you. Steve takes the seat at the end in between. 

“What color bracelet are you gonna make?” you ask, raking through the rainbow of options. 

“Umm, yellow. No– green!” 

“Nice. Here’s a cute little frog charm. Want that?” 

“Mmmm. No, thank you.” 

“I’ll take it,” Steve says, stretching his hand toward you. 

You drop it in the center of his palm where it clinks against a handful of blue beads. They’re pretty and vibrant like the sea. A flicker of an idea pulls you to grab your own handful. 

Holly slides four beads onto a string, two lime green and two baby pink. She drags the other end up and they all slip off, bouncing in separate directions across the table. You smack one before it dives onto the floor and Steve catches another two mid-air. 

“Can you help me tie it?” Holly asks from under her chair, searching for the fourth. 

“Sure.” Steve swaps his bracelet for hers, triple knotting one end. “I like these colors.”

She resurfaces with a grin, voice lilting as she speaks, “Do you like purple?”

“Yeah, purple’s okay. Do you?” 

She nods, pinching a lilac gem and examining it. 

You slip into a peaceful rhythm. The bead bin rattles as Steve digs his fingers in. He murmurs something about sparkles as he shuffles. Every now and then, you peek up at him. And each time, you find that he’s fully absorbed in this, rubbing his chin or poking his tongue out in concentration. You’d even bet he’s having fun. 

“Can you tie it on me,” Holly asks when she finishes. 

Steve takes her hand gently, fingers engulfing her tinier ones. “This good?” He tugs the strings across each other at her permission, sealing it with an extra knot for good measure.  

Holly starts a second one as you finish your first. You hold it up triumphantly for them to see– red and blue beads between every white pearl. 

“Very patriotic,” Steve teases. 

“It’s for you. For scoops. These are the colors right?” 

He softens, eyes rounding like brown buttons. “Wait, really? Thank you. Wow.” He inspects it fondly where you release it in his palm. “Will you tie it?” His arm shoots over to your side of the table. 

You feel his gaze shift from the bracelet to your face as you lace it. And you pretend that it doesn’t make your cheeks burn. 

“You don’t have to wear it to Scoops if you don’t want to,” you mumble, releasing his wrist. 

“What? Of course, I’m wearing it. No one’s ever made me a bracelet before.” 

Your lips bend up into your cheeks as he leans back in his seat. He twists and turns his arm, looking it over again with a similar expression. “Now, it was supposed to be a surprise, but since I’m almost done, I actually made this for you.” He scoops up the piece he’s been working on and waves it in front of you. 

You cock an eyebrow and smirk. “You sure you didn’t just decide that since I gave you one.” 

“I didn’t! I was planning this the whole time! Right Holly, didn’t I say that?”

“No?” 

“Holly, come on now.” He elbows her arm. “Supposed to back me up.” 

“But you didn’t,” she giggles. 

“Holly doesn’t lie, Steve.” 

“Okay, I didn’t say it. But I thought it. I was gonna give it to you I swear.” He jams another couple of beads on his string. “See! Look, it has your favorite color on there.” 

“It has every color on there.” 

“One of which is your favorite.” 

You roll your eyes as he takes your wrist. His hands are warmer than yours, softer than you expect too. He stills as your palm flips face up. A jagged, fleshy ridge runs from the bottom of your pinky to the meat of your thumb. Steve was there when you got the scar. He’s never said it, but you know he blames himself for it. A demodog had you pinned in that damned junkyard school bus so Steve pushed you out of the way but you caught yourself on a broken window. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His head dips in a silent nod. He isn’t sure whether to believe you or not. Either way, he feels sorry still.

His bracelet is a statement piece for sure. It truly has every color under the sun and a random assortment of charms and shells. But it’s sweet that he gave it to you. Even if he totally did not plan to do so at first. 

He makes a second bracelet for Holly with purple string and butterfly pendants. Holly gives her next one to him as thanks, then begins on a third for you. 

Steve stands from the table. “I’m hungry. Grilled cheese okay for dinner Holly?” She nods as do you when he asks you the same. 

Your focus drifts between him and the necklace you’re starting for Holly. He coasts around the kitchen naturally, like you imagine he would in his own house. But it’s a bizarre sight. Steve Harrington cooking you food, in the Wheeler’s kitchen out of all places. 

And he’s about as good as a chef as you expect him to be. He’s clumsy and uncertain, even dropping a spatula on the floor with an, “Oh, shi–ugar…” But he kindly refuses to accept any help or advice when you offer. 

He eventually swings around the kitchen island, brimming with pride, one plate in each hand. They’re set in the space you’ve cleared and you quickly see that the sandwiches have been cut adorably into stars. You just as quickly see– and smell– how burnt they are. They aren’t black, they’re edible for sure. But Holly’s five, and polite as she is, most kids would never willingly eat this. 

So you aren’t surprised when she looks at it in disgust, borderline horror. 

“Look, it’s a star,” Steve beams, oblivious. 

Your chest aches with the desire to laugh and an equal pang of sympathy. 

Holly shakes her head, visibly toning down her expression for his sake. “Can I have something else?” 

“It’s good! I promise, just try it.” 

She slowly shakes no again. 

“Steve,” a peel of laughter escapes your lips. “It’s burnt.” 

He scoffs. “It’s not that burnt.” 

Your mouth twitches in a funny little line and your eyes leap between him and the plate. “It’s pretty burnt, Steve.” 

After a moment of silence, he sighs and picks both plates back up. 

“Wait,” you shout, “I’ll still eat mine! Mine isn’t that bad. You did a good job!” 

He sulks at you. “You’re just saying that. I’ll make new ones.” 

“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll eat this one. I don’t mind.” 

He plants the plate in your grabby hands and spins back toward the stove. 

Round two is much better, still star-shaped, and a few shades lighter. Holly thanks him more than once while eating it without you even asking her to. If only Nancy and Mike were as precious as her. And Steve eats the first attempt, now cold, and admits that it tastes, “slightly burnt.” 

You take the empty plates to the sink to wash while Steve and Holly lug the jewelry kits back upstairs. You meet them in Holly’s room after. They’re playing house, Steve the dad, and Holly the mom, with four babydolls for children. She appoints you to be the neighbor when you join. 

You knock on her bedpost, pretending it’s her front door. “Holly, in one hour you’re gonna take a bath.”

Her head pops out from under the blanket. “Can we watch a movie before bed?” 

“Sure, but we have to do bath now if you wanna watch the whole thing.” 

“Okay!” She kicks the sheets away, jumping off the bed in a race to the bathroom. Steve winces as she steps on his hand. 

“Do you need help?” he asks, sprawled across the bed, socked feet hanging over the edge. 

“No, I got it. You can rest in peace now,” you joke, halfway through the door. 

Holly is self-sufficient enough to bathe herself so all you have to do is supervise. You find a matching polka dot set of pajamas in her dresser and a towel under the bathroom sink. And she gets dry and dressed all by herself, Miss Independent. 

“So there’s The Little Mermaid, E.T., Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory…” Steve trails off, kneeling in front of the entertainment center. 

Holly hands him a VHS tape, “This one?” 

“Ooh, good pick.” Steve feeds the tape into the player and rewinds it. 

You pat the couch cushion beside yours as Holly skips over. Steve hits the light before flopping into the recliner with a satisfied groan. The Jungle Book glows to life on the TV, casting an indigo wash over each of your faces. Holly curls into herself, knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them.

“Here,” Steve chucks a blanket from the basket at his side. 

“Thanks.” You scoop it off the floor where it missed the couch and billow it out over you and Holly. “Don’t fall asleep, Harrington.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve folds one leg over the other and crosses his arms, eyes glued to the screen. He reminds you of Mr. Wheeler sitting in his recliner like that. It’s alarming how attractive you find it. He’s not even doing anything worth staring at. You force your eyes back on the TV. 

The credits scroll up the screen for a whole minute before you realize the movie has ended. You aren’t asleep but you aren’t totally awake either. Steve’s not far off by the looks of it and Holly, on the other hand, was out like a light halfway through. Her head presses into your upper arm, her hand scrunched in the blanket on your thigh. The weight is nice, making it all the harder to pick yourself up and get her to bed. 

But thankfully Steve’s there to help. He twists in his chair until his back clicks, smiling when he catches sight of you and Holly. “I’ll carry her up,” he whispers. 

You gently work Holly’s stubborn fingers from the blanket as Steve stands. He pushes the rest of the fabric into your lap before bending to scoop Holly up. 

“Be right back,” he says, starting toward the stairs. 

You tug the blanket higher, seeking lost comfort in its folds, though it doesn’t compare to the warmth Holly provided. 

Steve pads back down not a minute later. He stops on the last step, hanging over the railing. “You awake?” 

“Barely,” you mumble. 

Steve plods up to the front door to check the locks. He orbits into the kitchen and then back around to the living room to turn the TV off. He’s being the responsible one. You aren’t sure why this surprises you. 

“Come on,” he opens his hand toward you. 

Your arm snakes out from under the blanket, and he lifts you effortlessly. You’ve seen how strong he is, how he fights, but it still surprises you. 

“I was gonna suggest another movie but I don’t think either of us’ll make it.” 

You catch a yawn from Steve. “I know. I’m so tired. It’s not even late.” 

He hums from behind you on the stairs. “Yeah. Who knew this’d be so exhausting.” He’s only being slightly sarcastic. There’s an obvious truth to what he implied, but at the same time, it is so much harder than you realized it would be. 

You stop at the landing, sluggishly turning to face Steve. “Well, goodnight, I guess.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You splinter into opposite ends of the hall. Steve let you have Nancy’s room for obvious reasons, though he wasn’t thrilled about crashing in Mike’s bed. He’s probably better off on the couch after seeing the kid’s closet. 

You change into cozier clothes and untuck Nancy’s quilt. Like with Steve, you and Nancy aren’t really friends. It’s strange being in her room, settling into her bed. And it’s almost stranger that Steve is sleeping across the hall. Yet, there’s an odd comfort in it— being surrounded by people who went through the same thing you did. 

ᯓ★

There’s thumping in the hall– footsteps, too light to be Steve’s. You fight the urge to go back to sleep. Holly needs a babysitter. But it’s not an easy feat, not when you’re swaddled like a baby in blankets much softer than the ones you have at home. You’re warm and it’s so quiet it feels like a gift; that is, until you remind yourself that kids and quiet don’t usually go hand and hand. She could be answering the door to a stranger, scaling the counters, setting the kitchen on fire, the possibilities are endless. 

You force your heavy eyes open and flinch as a much brighter pair come into focus. 

Holly bends over you with this innocent endearment you cannot possibly be mad to be woken by. “Told you, Stevie,” she says. 

“No, you woke ‘em up, goofball.” Steve lingers at the foot of the bed in a pair of striped pajama pants and a faded Olympics tee. You’ve never seen him in pajamas before, or anything quite like it. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows and rub your eyes for a better look. 

“Sorry,” he supplies. His voice is still raspy with sleep and his oh-so-perfect hair shoots up in wild peaks. The sight makes your chest buzz. “She said you had to get up to.” 

You redirect your attention to Holly, pinching the neckline of your shirt back over your shoulder as you sit up. 

“Can we have eggs?” she asks you. 

“Sure.” 

She traps her lip between her two frontmost baby teeth. “Five?” 

“Five eggs!” Steve chides. “Just for you?” 

She turns to nod at him, smile blooming. 

He wears the same joy, ruffling her already unruly bed-head. “What are you a linebacker?” 

She giggles, clueless as to what he’s talking about. 

“Let’s start with two and if you’re still hungry you can have more,” you compromise. 

You are undeniably a better cook than Steve, but the bar is low after yesterday. You serve scrambled eggs and unburnt toast. Holly looks at her plate like she hasn’t been fed a day in her life and she shovels spoonfuls of it in her mouth like it’s her last meal. 

Steve watches her with an anxious frown. “Smaller bites, Holl.” 

She nods but doesn’t exactly slow her pace. Steve chases your eyes, knocking your ankle with his when you don’t look. He gives you that funny face parents make. Help me out. 

You shrug. “It’s just eggs. Babies eat eggs.” 

He cycles through several emotions—frustration that you won’t back him up, disbelief that babies eat eggs, and a lingering fear that she might choke. But he stops himself from asking all the what-ifs, he trusts you. 

Holly swallows half of her glass of chocolate milk in one go. Steve looks mildly horrified. 

“My God. She’s like a little human vacuum,” he mumbles through a mouthful of toast. 

You snort into your glass. If Holly heard him, she’s too preoccupied to care. 

After breakfast, Steve sets her up in front of the TV to watch cartoons while you clear the table. He disappears into the basement in search of a board game but comes back with some deflated, plastic thing. 

“What happened to the board game?” you ask. “What even is that?” 

“It’s a kiddie pool. Let’s go outside. It’s nice out.” 

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” 

“Me neither. Just wear that.” 

You wrinkle your nose down at your pajamas. “Go see if she wants to.” 

He smiles, retreating back into the living room. Shortly after, he shouts, “She said yes!” Footsteps pound up the stairs, followed by a second shout, “Don’t run!” 

Mrs. Wheeler calls the house phone and is pleased to hear your good report. She reminds you several times to apply sunscreen to Holly’s ears and that there’s an extra can in the upstairs bathroom. You wrangle Holly over to put her on and promise to call back before bedtime when she refuses to hang up. 

You sift through your bag, changing into the closest thing to swimwear. Steve takes forever in the bathroom, which doesn’t surprise you one bit. He comes out in a crisp white tee, way too expensive-looking for a pool day, and a pair of red gym shorts. 

“What are you, the lifeguard?” you joke. 

His hands snap to his hips. “Uhh, I’ll have you know I’ve been a certified lifeguard for two years, so yeah, actually.” 

You roll your eyes, brushing past him for the extra can of sunscreen. “Are you ready? Holly’s waiting.” 

“Yeah. Let me go blow up the pool. I’ll be outside.” 

You fix your hair in the mirror and tuck a few towels under your arm before heading downstairs. Holly’s already outside, criss-crossed in a big lawn chair and watching Steve with incredible boredom. He stands barefoot in the grass, the deflated pool pressed against his chest. He pulls away from the air valve when he notices you, quickly capping it with his thumb. 

“You okay?” you ask, laughing lightly. 

He nods, red-cheeked and breathless. “Think there’s a hole in it. Been blowin’ for like five minutes.” 

“Huh,” you drop the towels and take one end of the limp plastic. “Try again.” 

He funnels more air inside, it dispurses evenly underneath your palm. You don’t hear any air wheezing out so you turn it over for further inspection. 

“Oh, Steve. Here, look.” 

He pops his mouth off and follows your pointer finger. A second valve at the bottom, unhinged and releasing his hard work steadily. 

“Oh, you’re kidding me. Why’d they put one under there?”

You shrug, plugging it back up. “Holly, let’s get some sunscreen on so your mom doesn’t kill us.” 

Holly hops off the chair and skips to your side. You mist her skin in several layers, lathering a generous amount over her ears. When you move onto yourself, she grabs her basket of toys and climbs into the dry inflatable. Steve retrieves the hose and releases a cool stream into the pool, splashing Holly’s feet.

She squeals and scoots back. “Cold!” 

Steve’s thumb eclipses the opening so the water bursts out in wide a fan. He trains it at Holly, spraying her until she’s soaked and screaming. 

He’s giggling in a way you’ve never heard. Genuine, open-mouthed reels of laughter. You hate to admit it, but it’s really cute. So infectious you can’t help but join. 

He glances back for your reaction, pleasantly satisfied. And your smile incites a great idea. He swings the hose around, aiming it straight at you. 

“Steve!” Your arms shoot out to block the attack but it’s no use. 

“What?” he says, the epitome of innocence. 

Your eyes narrow but a smirk prevails. “Oh, you–” 

Holly tackles the back of his thigh with a scream. Steve stumbles forward and the hose slips from his grasp. 

You lunge for it before he even realizes what happened. And by the time he does, he’s already drenched. “Payback!” You laugh maniacally as he combs his hair out of his eyes. 

He’s laughing too, bent at the waist, still shaking his surprise. But only until he catches your gaze– then comes the glint of something playful, almost daring.

Steve barrels straight through the spray like a bull. He chokes your fingers over the nozzle, bending and bending the line until the water pours straight down your head. 

Holly dashes behind you to wrangle the wiggly tail of the hose, squealing at every layer of mist she catches. 

You and Steve wrestle with it, his hand on your hip, yours pushing his shoulder. He’s gentle but still strong. And his touch sears through the cold water, your skin tingling in his wake. 

The second he sticks the end down the back of your shirt you scream. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” 

He crimps the hose with one hand, smirking deviously. 

“I surrender,” you repeat, heaving through your laughter. 

Holly drops her end of the hose, backing up one slow step at a time. 

“Truce?” 

“Truce,” you nod, stepping up cautiously to shake his hand. 

He accepts your hand, using it to yank you closer and blast you again. You chase and dodge and tackle each other under the blazing sun until your legs feel like jelly. But the game eventually slows as exhaustion creeps in. 

You and Steve collapse in the lawn chairs while Holly lays belly-down in the pool. Water sloshes over the rim onto your toes as she kicks, a brief reprieve from the sticky heat. You're relaxed, but your mind wanders. You keep hoping the Wheelers won’t notice the sudden increase in their water bill. 

“Dustin talks about you all the time.”

You tear your eyes away from Holly, blinking back into reality as you face Steve. “What?”

“Dustin, he talks about you all the time. Kid loves you.” 

“Oh. He’s a sweet kid. Talks about you too. Keeps telling me to come see you at Scoops.”

Steve chuckles, more of a half-hearted puff of amusement than a real one. 

“Which, I’m sorry I haven’t, by the way,” you confess. 

His eyebrows jump, lips parting in soft surprise. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. He’s just being Dustin.” 

You press a blade of grass flat under your heel, as if the right words might sprout from the dirt. “I dunno. I mean, don’t you think it’s kinda weird that we don’t like talk? After everything?” 

The words bounce around Steve’s head for a minute. He fixates on your choice of weird. Weird, like bad? Weird like you want to talk? He can’t decide. And he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, the wrong words will tumble out. 

But he tries anyway, “Honestly, I thought you didn’t want to be friends. You were just so… distant after.” 

You rub the length of your arm, lips creasing into a frown. “Sorry, I was just. I don’t even know. Rattled, I guess.” 

“Yeah, rabid dogs with faces that split open and try to eat you tend to have that effect.” 

Your frown melts, little by little. 

“But we should’ve been there for you more. It was a hard time for everybody.” 

His apology echoes in your mind, the ache like a weight on your chest. 

“You could visit if you wanted to. At scoops. I could get you ice cream for free.” 

But the ache doesn’t stand a chance against the way he makes you feel. 

“Okay.” Your cheeks round with a sincere smile. “I’d like that.” 

He turns his head, as if to hide, but you still catch an echo of your own expression. Your eyes flicker across the contours of his profile, following the graceful line from his ear to his collar, before drifting over the sculpted shape of his arms and the long expanse of his thighs. Steve Harrington is objectively attractive. This isn’t the first time you’ve thought so. But it is the first time that fact makes your head spin. 

Maybe it’s the heat. The sun feels like it's roasting you alive, and Steve’s attractiveness certainly isn't helping. You’re feeling strange, thinking crazy things– the kind of thoughts that only come when you’re on the verge of heat stroke certainly. 

You stand abruptly and the grass sways underneath your feet. But you get your bearings before anyone notices. “Holly, can I come sit in the pool?”

Her eyes pop up, grin distorted underneath the water. She props her elbow up and rests her cheek in the palm of her hand. “What’s the password?”

“Umm, can you give me a hint?” 

A high-pitched hum. “Okay. She’s my favorite character.” 

“Uhh, Barbie?” 

“Nooo.” 

“Strawberry Shortcake?”

“Nooo.” 

“Hello Kitty?” 

“You’re really bad at this,” she giggles. It would be really cute if you weren’t possibly dying right now. 

“It’s Care Bears,” Steve interjects, snapping his fingers. “Uhh, the yellow one. Umm, Funshine!” 

“Yes!” Holly glows like the sun on Funshine herself. “Stevie can come in.”

Steve stands but he doesn’t get in. “Come on, Holl. It’s hot.”

“There’s a new password.”

“Okay, okay. Can I have another hint?” you ask. 

Her tongue curls out to lick the sweat off her lip. “My favorite color.” 

“Purple?” 

“Yes,” she nods and sits up. “But I really like yellow and blue and pink too.” 

You sink into the water, unsure if there was ever a wrong answer. It’s shallow and lukewarm, barely grazing the tops of your thighs, but it’s enough to cool the sun off your skin. Steve follows, and the space tightens awkwardly— the inflatable wasn’t built for three. His knee brushes yours while Holly’s toes nudge your foot, but neither of them seems to mind. 

You cup water up to your cheeks and pour it down your arms. 

“Better?” Steve asks, a droll little pinch to his features. 

He’s staring at you which is definitely not helping but you nod anyway. 

“Why don’t we move to the shade?” He stands before you or Holly agrees, offering his hand to pull you up. 

She races Steve to the nearest tree, though he doesn't stand much of a chance dragging the pool behind him. He refills it with fresh water and encourages Holly to splash you gently while he runs inside to make lunch. By the time he returns, you’re feeling much more yourself. 

“Bon Appétit,” Steve announces, lowering himself slowly onto a towel. He carries three animal-shaped plates stocked with fruit and PB&Js, one in each hand, another balanced on his forearm. 

Holly scrambles out of the water, plopping onto the other end of his towel. You get out too, shaking a second one out to lay beside theirs. 

“Lion or hippo?” he asks Holly. 

She hums for a long time, inspecting each plate meticulously before pointing to the lion.

“Good choice.” He sets the plate in front of her crossed legs and passes you the hippo. Steve takes the polar bear for himself, which notably only has half a sandwich. 

“Where’s the other half?” you ask. 

He takes a large bite, pressing his hand to his mouth to reply, “Ran out of bread.” 

“Here.” You rip one of your halves in half. 

“Thanks,” he says, syllables tangling as he chews. 

Holly watches the interaction fondly before pulling apart her own sandwich. It splits in a jagged line, mostly crust on one half. But happily, she thrusts the bigger piece toward Steve, jelly dribbling down her little fist. 

He tilts his head, a growing smile mirroring yours. “You eat it. I have enough now.” 

She crinkles her nose. “You eat it!” 

“No, you!” He squeezes her slim bicep. “You need to get big and strong.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m already big and strong.” 

She considers this, giving him an obvious once-over that makes you laugh. “Trade?” 

“Okay, trade.” Steve chuckles, exchanging one of his halves for hers. He licks a stripe across his knuckle where her sticky fingers brushed his. It’s as innocent as the gesture can be but something about it has your cheeks burning in a way the sun couldn’t. 

Conversation tapers off, replaced with an easy quiet. Your stomach is satisfied with the food, but it’s your heart that feels the most nourished, steeped in the comfort of good company. You hadn’t expected to enjoy hanging out with Steve or Holly this much. 

Holly slouches into your arm, stretching her legs across the grass like a bridge between the towels. Her heels push into the pudge of Steve’s thigh, the faintest smirk crossing her lips. 

He squeezes her ankle until it darts away. 

Gradually, she presses again and in turn, he squeezes, but this time he doesn’t let go. She squeals as he drags her down your side. But all hell breaks loose when he starts tickling the bottom of her foot. 

She shrieks, thrashing and squirming against his hold, giggling in between gasps. “Ste–vie!” she cries.

Her laugh is too pure of a sound to be real, Steve thinks. His resolve crumbles, grip faltering. And Holly’s heel slams smack into his jaw. Steve winces, bending away to cradle his cheek. 

You straighten up. “You okay? Let me see.” 

Holly’s legs go limp in the grass, her shoulders tense in your lap. 

Steve’s hand slackens unveiling a red splotch not much darker than his sunburnt cheeks. He meets your eyes with a dismissive shake, “It’s okay.” 

You believe him. It doesn’t look nearly awful enough to make your concern stick. And his face has been through worse. Billy Hargrove painting his fists red with Steve’s blood is one of the things you remember most about that night. 

His attention dips down to Holly. She sniffles, eyes glistening in the sunlight with a frown nearly reaching her chin. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay, Holl.” 

Holly putters, whimpers drowning the edges of her words. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay! I promise! It doesn’t even hurt,” he reassures, cupping her kneecap. 

You tug her off the ground and she sinks into your arms naturally. Hot tears pave a path down your neck only to dissolve in the fabric of your shirt. You coax her sobs out, one back rub at a time. 

Steve waits until she settles with this pitiful look on his face. “I know you didn’t mean to Hollybear. Just an accident. Hmm?” 

She nods against your chin. 

He strokes the back of her arm, fingers grazing yours where they work. “Please don’t cry.” 

Holly sniffles. 

“You know what might help me feel better?” She lifts a sweaty cheek off your chest as Steve opens his arms. “A hug.” 

She pushes out of your hands into his. He holds her tight, providing one loving squeeze after another. 

This is not how you pictured Steve to be under normal babysitting circumstances. A voice like sweet honey, eyes warm like the sun. He’s very soft, and so undeniably kind. And not just to Holly, but also you. 

Steve hooks the spare towel closer, draping it across her back. “Lean back,” he tells her. 

She avoids his gaze as she does, tears melting away under his touch. 

“You know what I think?” He cinches the towel at her collar like a cloak. 

She hums. 

“I think we should have popsicles for dessert.” 

Holly meets his eyes then, excitement glimmering underneath the droop of lingering guilt. 

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” she admits meekly. 

A smirk thins his lips. “I dunno though. What if we get a tummy ache?” He pokes her belly through the towel. “Maybe it’s not–”

“No– I want one!”

“I dunnooo,” he sings.

“Please, Stevie! You already said.”

“How bad do you want it? Like this much?” He pinches his fingers together, leaving the slightest gap between them. 

“No, no!” She shakes her head, casting her arms out as far as they’ll go. “This much!” 

He sighs loudly, shoulders sagging for the dramatic touch. “Okay.” 

Holly’s arms curl around his neck as he stands. He’s more than happy to carry her, but the added weight makes him groan. 

You trail behind automatically, half enjoying the show and just as excited for a treat. Steve pins the back door open with his foot, returning a smile you hadn’t realized you were sharing. Your cheeks are starting to protest, sore with overwhelming happiness. 

“What color do you want?” 

“Pink! Pink!” Holly shouts in his ear, loud enough to make you wince. But Steve doesn’t react in the slightest to her volume. You’d all taken a piece of the Upside Down with you after El sealed it up. And just when you seemed to forget it, you’d be reminded in the form of scars, nightmares, headaches, and in Steve’s case, hearing loss. 

He opens the freezer, Holly propped on his hip. She’s far too big to be carried like that comfortably but he does it anyway. 

“Pink for Holly. Red for Steve.” He leans back to find your face. “For you?” 

You purse your lips, “Surprise me.” 

Steve stows Holly on the countertop so he can snip the plastic tips. She receives her popsicle first, then you, and finally Steve. 

“Matching,” Holly observes as you sit beside them on the couch. 

Steve crosses his popsicle over your identically red one when you raise an eyebrow. “Look at that,” he says. 

She hums, gnawing on the plastic wrapper. Steve pushes the ice up for her and thumbs away the dribble at the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t seem to notice, but it catches you off guard. Steve’s such a natural at this you almost can’t believe he’s an only child. 

You turn the TV on to an episode of Care Bears as Holly slumps into Steve’s chest, slurping the last of her slush loudly. 

“Sleepy?” you ask when she kneads her eyes. 

“No.”

You chuckle, combing her frizz back. “Okay.” 

“You know, it’s okay if you are sleepy,” Steve mentions, equally amused. 

“I know. I’m not.” Her tone is casual, a portrait of nonchalance, despite the yawn that slips out afterward. 

You and Steve exchange a look of mutual fondness. 

“I’m pretty tired,” Steve declares, reclining into the cushions with a fake yawn. “I think I’ll take a nap.” 

Holly twists against him to watch. It doesn’t take long for her little fingers to poke and prod his lashline.

He peels one eye open, playfully cocking an eyebrow. 

She giggles and pinches the skin closed. 

You’re trapped between nervously supervising she doesn’t poke his eye out and leaving to get a baby wipe for her hands which you imagine are very sticky with popsicle juice. Either way, you’ll be surprised if Steve doesn’t have pink eye by morning. 

“I’m sleeping,” he whines and headbutts her palm gently. 

“Nooo,” she whines back, wedging her hand across his mouth. Delirium is setting in, a nap is imminent. 

Steve opens his eyes, giddy just the same. “Okay. You got me.” 

Holly frees his mouth to swipe a streak of red from his chin. Her tongue pokes out in prime concentration. 

A staggered laugh of disbelief is shaken from Steve’s chest. He hadn’t expected Holly to be difficult, but she’s been nothing short of delightful. She’s sweeter than Mike and Nancy combined and smarter than he thought kids her age could be. For a self-indulgent second, he hopes that his kids will turn out something like her. 

Holly reels back around to lay on her side, eyelids sagging with an inevitable heaviness. Steve draws the towel up to her chin, fixing his palm to her back. You watch her drift off, eyes slipping up every so often. 

When you’re positive she’s out, you cautiously dislodge the popsicle wrapper from her fingers. Steve passes his as you stand. 

One of the many hard things about kids is all the cleaning. Holly’s as neat as a five-year-old gets, and still, every moment of peace is an opportunity spent putting things back where they belong. You head outside to tip the pool over and collect stray towels and toys that didn’t make it back in. 

By the time you return, Steve’s passed out, mouth ajar, head craned back against the couch. It’s not a particularly attractive expression– he’d probably be embarrassed to wake to your staring– but you can’t find anything other than endearment in yourself.  

You shower and change into fresh clothes and end up on the opposite couch to watch TV. But Care Bears isn’t all that entertaining anymore so you rest your eyes for just a second. 

A second turns to several and when you reopen your eyes you discover the clock is two hours ahead of where it was before. 

The silence is only comforting for a fleeting moment before anxiety creeps in. Your eyes flick from the TV, now powered off, to the other couch where Steve and Holly are not where you left them. Nor are they in the dining room, kitchen, basement, or backyard. You take the stairs two steps at a time and nearly trip over a blanket strewn across the banister when Holly screams. 

You’d have kicked her door off the hinges if it came to it but are thankful it’s already open. Holly is perfectly safe, bent over the remnants of what you assume was a pillow fort. 

You release a breath caught in your throat and sag against the doorframe. Steve offers an apologetic smile when he notices. 

Holly glances over but quickly returns to their game. “You’ve destroyed my kingdom!” she shouts, drilling a finger into Steve’s chest. “Off with your head!” 

You’re too stunned to laugh, but a noise of confusion skips out. Steve gawks at Holly in pretend despair, scrubbing any seeping amusement off his lips with the back of his hand. He’s dressed in sweats, Holly in a princess dress. But more importantly, his face has been caked in makeup and his hair twisted into two fluffy knots. 

“You!” Holly yells with a scowl aimed at you. “Hold him down!” 

Steve pleads at your ankles, pressing his forehead to the carpet in prayer. It takes every ounce of you not to break character and laugh. There’s something so surreal about Steve Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, in sparkly eyeshadow, kneeling before a little girl to beg for his life. It’s hilarious as it is heartwarming. 

“If I may propose a suggestion!” You counter, equally dramatic. “A trade! For this silly man’s life, we will help rebuild your kingdom twice as big! Princess I–” 

“Queen!”

Steve snorts but she must miss it. 

“My apologies. Queen Holly, I can assure you this new Kingdom will have all of the finest luxuries that royalty like yourself might desire.” 

She takes a second to process the big words. “Fine!” She sneers, diving onto her mattress which is absent of all its sheets and blankets. “Chop! Chop!”

You bite your lip, chasing the fervent smile away. Steve gets right to work, sorting pillows from most to least sturdy. You steal another chair from Nancy’s desk and help Steve double-knot the roof to it. It’s no mansion, but it is long enough for Steve to lie down in, which is a job well done in your book. Especially when you’re under strict supervision and listening to a thread of loud critiques. 

You lift the door flap for Holly to crawl through. “Your quarters, Your Grace.” 

She glances over her shoulder with a wicked, but mostly adorable, expression. “My name is not Grace! It’s Holly! Queen Holly to you!” 

The explanation dies on your tongue because how can you possibly argue with that? You’re just grateful to still have your head. 

After the grand tour, Queen Holly disappears into one of the tent’s offshoots with a handful of stuffed animals she's referring to as her royal guards. 

Steve scoots closer, whispering behind his hand, “I think we need to stage a coup.” 

You lean into his good ear, affection spilling off your tone, “I didn’t know she could be so mean.” 

“Me neither! She must be hanging out with Mike.” 

“Must be.” You grin for what feels like the millionth time today. 

You’re sitting knee to knee, close enough to catch the heat of Steve’s breath on your cheek. You drag the pad of your finger across his cheekbone where teal eyeshadow has been caked on in several layers. “I like this,” you compliment. 

I kinda forgot she put that on.” He ducks his head bashfully, peeking up through his eyelashes. “Do I look pretty?” 

“The prettiest.” 

He receives it as teasing, but it’s true, you do think Steve is pretty. A strong nose, kind eyes, and sure, maybe the hair. But now that you’re inches apart, you notice twin smile lines, a series of freckles down his cheek, and a faded scar across his forehead. You linger there more than anywhere else, under the guise of judging Holly’s makeup job, of course. 

But the silence twists into something less comfortable with each passing second. A brief twitch of emotion flickers across Steve’s face, gone before you can name it. “So… pizza for dinner?” he blurts out. 

Before you’ve processed what happened, Holly shouts, “Cheese please!” 

Steve splinters from your gaze, calling back, “Yes, My Queen.” 

Dinner is pleasantly easy. The pizza’s delivered and paper plates save you from the hassle of dishes after. You eat at the kitchen table, sharing stories and smiles, strangely like a family. 

And after dinner, Holly has a bath; and after bath, Steve whisks her off to bed. You’re left to your own devices for once, a benevolent bout of peace, but still, you can’t seem to relax. 

The spray of the bathroom light paves the hall leading to Holly’s room. You tiptoe up to the door and peek inside. 

Steve’s on the floor, slouched against the side of the bed cradling Holly to his chest. He flinches as your shadow veers across the moonlit wall.  

“Sorry,” you whisper, dropping onto your knees beside them. 

Holly picks her head up, tear tracks shimmering as she turns. Her lip wobbles through a whimper. 

You soften like wax near a flame, eyes flitting to Steve who looks equally at a loss. 

She curls her knees into his tummy in a way that probably hurts. The poor thing dissolves into fresh tears, spilling out faster than Steve can chase away. 

“Holls, it’s okay, honey. Me and Stevie are here, okay?” 

She strains to speak through a chain of gasps, “I want my Mommy!” 

“I know, I know. She’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” you steer sweat-slick hair behind her ear. 

“I want her now.” 

“We’ve got ya, Holl,” Steve chimes in. 

“We’re right here.” 

“No– Mommy!” 

It goes like this for a while, soothing reassurances met with unyielding resolve. Holly’s not one to be stubborn for no reason. She’s so exhausted and upset it breaks your heart. You try reading and music and back rubs but there seems to be no end to her sobbing. 

Steve strokes her ankle where it’s now tucked underneath her in your lap. He looks exhausted– hair draped over his forehead like a claw, extra weight embedded in each of his eyelids. You’re both at your breaking point. “You wanna sleep with me tonight Hollybear?” he says in a tone gentler than you’ve ever heard. 

“No. Mommy,” she persists. 

“You can sleep with her when she gets back. But tonight you get to have a sleepover with Steve. Or you can even sleep with me in Nancy’s bed, okay?” 

Red-rimmed eyes flick between you and Steve. Neither option is as good as Mom. 

“Both,” Holly whines. 

“Wanna lay with both of us?” 

She nods. “In the middle.” 

“Okay,” you turn to Steve. “We can do that.” Your words are colored like a question but he’s already nodding his answer. 

He shovels Holly from your lap, cheek pressing into hers in an unspoken exchange of relief. “Alright, munchkin. Let’s go steal Nancy’s big bed. Sound good?” 

She hums her approval into his ear. 

Steve pokes Nancy’s door open with his foot, swinging around to the tucked side of the bed. You crawl across your end as Holly slides off his chest. She molds herself against your shoulder, tugging Steve closer when he settles. 

“Goodnight, Hollybear,” he says. 

She steals your hand from underneath the comforter, then his where it lies on the sheet. Your knuckles brush Steve’s where they are stapled to her chest. “Goodnight,” she sighs. 

Steve strokes up and down the back of her hand, his touch a quiet catalyst. She’s asleep in mere minutes, snoring softly, fingers limp against yours. 

Steve nudges your hand where it’s already pressed to his, whispering when you turn, “Am I crazy that I find all of this kinda fun?” 

You shake your head, a smile working its way across your lips. “Guess that would make me crazy too.” 

“I know I always complain about driving those little shits around but Holly’s actually really fun to babysit.” 

“Yeah, she is. At least it’s not the end of the world this time, right?”

“Yeah, that probably helps, huh?” Amusement ebbs into a sigh. “I’m kinda dreading going home, to be honest.”

“Why don’t we put Mike in a wig? Kidnap Holly for ourselves.” 

He snorts into his pillow. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. ‘Yeah, I dunno Mrs. Wheeler, she had a crazy growth spurt while you were gone.’”

“We’d take good care of her.”

“We would,” he nods. “You’re really good with her.” 

“So are you. Kinda surprised me actually.”

“Really? Cause Dustin tells me weekly I’d make a good mother.” 

“Yeah, but they’re different. Older. And don’t get me wrong, you’re great with them and they love hanging out with you. Holly’s just little. You’re so much gentler with her, and like, you always seem to know what to do.” 

“For the record, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“Me neither. I don't know what Mrs. Wheeler was thinking asking us to do this.”

Intertwined laughter fades, but something else— something similar— lingers. An almost tangible buzz of energy, as if the silence itself is alive with unspoken words. You entertain the idea that the feeling’s not exclusive to just you. That Steve hears the same jitter in his pulse and feels the same flutter against his ribs. That you aren’t alone to be feeling such a way.    

“Is it–” 

“Are we–”

“Sorry, you go,” he jabbers out. 

The words trickle back down your throat, too thick to cross your tongue again. “You can probably go now,” you decide. 

His gaze jumps to Holly’s chest where his hand is still coupled with one of hers. 

“If you want,” you amend. “You don’t have to.” 

“You don't mind? If I stayed?”

You shake your head.

“Just worried she’ll wake up if I move.” 

You try to flatten your excitement as you reply, “You can stay.” 

His gaze swims with yours across Nancy's room, skimming over the cluttered dresser, the desk strewn with books and pens, to the shuttered closet doors.

“Sorry about– you know– I heard Nancy… dumped you,” you say, immediately regretting the awkward phrasing.

“Harsh,” he squints and casts you a bittersweet grin. “But true.”

“Is it… weird? To be in here?” 

“A little. But not as much as I thought it would be. Hell of a lot better than Mike’s room.” 

You hum, watching the gentle shift in his brows. 

“Is it weird for you?” 

“Me?” you ask. “In what way?” 

“You and Nance. You don’t always see eye to eye.” 

“I mean, yeah. When our decisions involve risking our lives– or the kids– she’s pretty damn impulsive. And she can be real stubborn and selfish sometimes too. But I dunno, I still love her. She’s been sort of like a sister since everything started. I think that’s why we argue.” 

“What does that make me? Your brother?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, you’re the stray dog we adopted.” 

“Okay. That’s just mean.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Your laugh laps out louder than you intend, but Holly remains still. “I dunno who you’d be. The love interest?”

“I can work with that, sexy love interest–”

You scoff. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Harrington.” 

“Okay, okay. But love interest because…”

“Cause you dated Nance.”

“Oh,” he exhales. 

“You don’t agree? Should we go back to stray dog?” 

“Oh, shut up. I’m going to bed.” Steve rolls onto his side with a sigh. 

“Keep your snoring to a minimum, please.” 

He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at your smirk. “I don’t snore.”

“You do. I could hear it from here last night.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” you argue. “It definitely wasn’t Holly.” 

“Whatever. Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

Only when your eyes are closed does his smile finally emerge. It’s silly how quickly you can pull it out of him. It throws him for a loop every time. But with you at his side, maybe he’ll dream of happier things for once. Either way, it’s easier to fall asleep, just knowing you’re there falling asleep too. 

ᯓ★

“Shhhh!” 

“No, you shhhh,” a lighter voice giggles. 

“Holly,” Steve scolds, mirth buttering his tone. You know he’s smiling by the sound alone. 

Holly’s laughter triples in volume but then is abruptly muffled. 

“Ew– did you just lick me?” 

And this all just sounds way too cute to miss out on. You pry your lashes apart, still sticky with sleep, and flip on your side to face them. 

They freeze, eyes widening adorably in sync. Steve is reclined against the headboard, an arm bent behind his neck. Holly is sprawled halfway across his tummy, toes tickling your side. 

“Sorry,” he offers like you’d be mad. But how could you possibly be anything but enamored waking up to their giggly little voices? If you could be woken up like this every day, you would. 

You shake your head, scratching underneath your eyes. The walls are bathed in muted colors, waiting to be warmed by the sunrise. It’s still early. 

Holly rolls off of Steve onto the floor and barrels out of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he shouts. 

“Potty!” 

Steve turns to you, eyes roving across your bedhead for an embarrassingly long amount of time. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Did she kick you last night?” 

You rake your fingers through your hair, quickly moving them to your lips to stifle a yawn. “Not that I remember.” 

“Oh, you’d remember. Trust me. She was on top of me the whole night.” He’s smiling like an idiot. He couldn’t sound annoyed about it if he tried. 

“Aww, she loves you,” you coo. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, pink dusting his cheeks, “I can’t wait to do this.”

“Hmm?”

“Settle down. Have a family. I wasn’t, like, a hundred percent sure before, but I am now.” 

“You’ll be a good dad.”

He beams at you like he’s just won the lottery. “You think?” 

“For sure.” And he really would. You’re sure of it after last night. 

He opens his mouth to speak but your stomach cuts him off with an obnoxious growl. “Hungry?” Steve chuckles. 

“Shut up.” You swipe your pillow and smack him. 

He smacks you back, pulling it to his chest before you can steal it. “Wanna go out for breakfast?” 

Your brain short circuits. You forget you’re babysitting and not just laying in bed with Steve Harrington for fun. He is not asking you on a date like your heart assumes. 

“Oh, yeah. Sure. For sure,” you sputter out, heat licking up the back of your neck. 

“I’ll go see what she wants,” he slides onto the floor and shakes his legs awake. 

Steve’s tall, even sluggishly slumped over. But even more so as he stretches– arms rising with his shirt, revealing a fraction of golden skin above his waistband. A long, lazy moan climbs out of his chest. 

You push the comforter off before you burst into flames. 

Holly determines she wants IHOP because they put chocolate chips and sprinkles on the pancakes. Steve supplies her with an outfit and wrestles her hair into pigtails with bows to match her skirt. It’s surprisingly coordinated and admittedly cute, but maybe you’re wrong to be so surprised– he knows his way around a comb and a closet. 

“Can I get pancakes?” she asks Steve, perched on the bottom step of the stairs. 

He’s cross-legged on the floor, hunched over to lace her sneakers. “I already told you yes, silly goose.”

“Can I get extra sprinkles?”

“Uhh, does your mom let you?”

She thinks about it before answering. “Yes, I think so.” 

“Sure, then.” He grins, clapping her tied shoes together before standing. 

You shoulder Holly’s bag, stuffed with books and toys and a jacket in case it rains, courtesy of Steve who insisted she might need it. “Ready?” you ask him.

Steve races Holly to the car while you lock up. Mrs. Wheeler installed Holly’s car seat in Steve’s beamer before she left but you’ve yet to use it. 

“It’s too tight,” Holly whines from the car, loud enough to hear from the top of the driveway. 

“I know, ‘m working on it,” Steve assures, working his fingers under the straps. “Just gotta figure it out.”

“Hurry!” 

“I’m hurrying, Holl. Give me a sec’.” 

You open the passenger door and peek around the headrest to view her. The belts are buckled but not tight enough to spark concern. “He’s going as fast as he can, Holly. Be patient.” 

She squirms under his hands, exhaling sharply. And like her, Steve’s frustration mounts, jaw tightening, brow furrowing. His fingers keep slipping and he’s not totally sure which button or strap is for loosening. 

You swing around to Holly’s door and cup Steve’s shoulder. “Let me try.”

He knocks his head on the roof as he pulls out. 

You wince, “Okay?” 

He softens as you reach for his neck, though your fingers never land. Still, the tender look you offer is enough to cure any bumps or bruises he might’ve gotten. 

It’s an unfortunate amount of trial and error before Holly is fastened in properly. Steve cranks the AC on full blast when you finally settle into your seats and circles through radio stations after he backs out. He finds the kid’s station, playing a Muppet’s song that Steve apparently knows every word to. He sings unapologetically loud, a stupid grin sewn to his face. 

When you arrive, Holly happily holds your hand through the parking lot, still clutching tightly as you wait to be seated. She climbs onto your lap to make room on the waiting bench for a woman looking ready to pop out a baby any minute. Steve stands at your other side, arm braced behind your neck. 

“How old is she?” the woman asks you fondly. 

“She’s five,” you return her smile, bouncing your knee. “Right, Holly?”

Holly twists to hide in your neck, nodding. 

“She’s very cute,” she says with such love you already believe her baby is in good hands. “Your sister?” Her eyes flick from yours to Steve who is mostly oblivious to the conversation. 

“No, just babysitting.” 

“Oh, well, you’ll make good parents one day.” 

The comment renders you speechless. It’s not that you hadn’t considered children before, but you hadn’t pictured them with Steve. With his smile, his eyes, his nose. It’s that this woman who doesn’t even know you imagined it before you had. You blink at her stupidly through a forced smile.

Steve squeezes your shoulder, ripping you from your thoughts. “You okay? Table’s ready.” 

You get seated in a booth overlooking the parking lot. 

Holly bends across Steve’s lap to point through the window. “I see our car!” 

“Yeah, that’s her.” 

Holly’s face contorts with confusion. “Her? Your car’s a girl?” 

“Yep–”

The waitress swings over with a handful of menus and a hasty introduction. Steve already knows what he wants and he places Holly’s order after his, making sure to clarify the extra sprinkles when she calls his name repeatedly to remind him. As soon as you decide, the waitress bustles off with the pair of menus to another table. 

Holly slides her paper menu closer, examining each activity. 

Steve picks open the box of crayons, revealing a stingy three– red, green, and blue. “You know, for a multi-million dollar company, you’d think they could afford more than three crayons.”

“And more staff,” you add, eyes tailing another waitress zipping from one table to another. 

Holly points at herself, Steve, and then you, counting, “One, two three. Three crayons for three people.” 

“Yeah, good point,” Steve pats her thigh. “Always the optimist.” 

“Op-ta-nist?”

“Op-ta-mist,” he clarifies. 

She snags the green crayon and presses it to the paper. “What’s that?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth. “Well, it’s like– it’s when you– you’re happy a lot. Grass is always greener on the other side, you know?” 

Steve lost her at the metaphor but she’s too focused on staying inside the lines to care about the definition of optimist anymore. 

“You got there eventually. Sort of,” you tease. 

His foot stabs your ankle under the table. “Shut up.” 

Steve lets Holly win every single round of tic-tac-toe while showering her with praise, convincing her she's a tactical mastermind. You can’t quite tell if she’s onto him, but she’s too busy grinning to say otherwise.

The waitress plants your and Steve’s plates on the table first, reaching behind to scoop Holly’s off her tray next. “And, chocolate chip pancakes with extra sprinkles for the little one.” 

“Thank you,” you manage to say before she leaves to tend to another table flagging her down. “Holly, want syrup?”

“Yes, please.” 

You pour a spiral of maple syrup over Holly’s pancakes. The amount of sugar on her plate might qualify it more as candy than breakfast. And she’s ogling the food like it’ll grow legs and run away. 

“Steve, will you cut them up for her?”

He nods, swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs and trading his fork for a knife. As soon as he slides her meal back over, Holly ravages the pancakes, spooning another bite in her mouth before she’s swallowed the last.

The waitress whisks by with drink refills, joy driving her to a smile at the sight of Holly and her half-empty plate. 

“I swear we feed her at home,” Steve chuckles through his own joke. What a dad thing to say. “Can we get some more napkins?” 

And it’s like he knows what’s going to happen. Holly stretches across the table for the syrup bottle, drawing back with an open-mouthed grimace. 

“Uh-oh.” She presses her chin to her chest. There’s a patch of syrup turning the hem of her pink shirt brown. 

“What?” Steve throws a pigtail behind her shoulder so he can see. “Oh. It’s okay.” 

“It was an accident,” Holly explains. 

“I know. It’s okay.” 

“It’s sticky.”

“It’ll wash off.” Steve dunks a clean napkin in his cup of water and dabs it across the stain. 

“It’s too cold,” she complains, pinching the fabric away from her skin. 

“Sorry. It’ll dry. Have to get the syrup out, though.” 

You deliver another wad of napkins to Steve’s hand. He pushes them against her belly, soaking up any excess water. His patience never frays.

Holly looks up, worry etched into her voice, “Will it stain?” 

“I dunno,” you supply truthfully. “We’ll throw it in the wash when we get home.” 

Steve pays the bill with the cash the Wheelers left and scrapes his wallet for change, stacking two quarters on the table when he finds them. “Since you’ve been such a good listener. There’s a sticker machine up front,” he tells Holly. 

Steve might as well have slapped a ticket to Disney World on the table. Holly literally jumps for joy, right out of her seat. She buys a random Lisa Frank sticker and pockets the second coin for her piggy bank. 

It’s Steve’s idea to go to the playground afterward. The park is teeming with life, the kind of chaos that only a weekend morning can bring. Swings creak under the weight of eager kids, and the monkey bars have their own traffic jam. Parents wrap the playground like a barricade, their chatter drowned out by laughter and shouts. But the heat presses down ruthlessly, making every step feel like you’re wading through a sauna.

Holly tears away from Steve’s hand as soon as her shoes hit the mulch, rejoicing in her newfound freedom with a little skip. She races up a set of stairs to wait for a turn on the tallest slide. 

“Should’ve brought sunscreen,” Steve says, eyes following Holly down the slide. She flashes you both a prideful smile from the bottom. 

“She’ll survive. We won’t stay long. It’s too hot.” You pull your shirt out to fan your chest, dabbing the sweat beading at your sternum. 

“Careful!” he shouts as she hops from one platform to the next. She continues to bounce along the path, one wobbly leap at a time. A particularly long jump has Steve cringing. He’s trying really hard not to be overanxious and it’s as sweet as it is amusing. 

He side-eyes your grin with an opposing frown. You don’t even have to say anything for him to know you’re teasing him. “What?” 

You shrug, smile doubling. “You.”

“What about me?” 

“You’re just funny.” 

“My concern is funny to you?” he accuses. 

“She’s fine, Steve.” 

He makes a noise of disagreement, arms crossed and a hip popped out dramatically far. You see why Dustin teases him for being motherly. 

Holly struggles with the monkey bars. She makes it halfway across before her arms start to shake and her hands slip. Steve lunges forward as he watches her plummet to the ground. But before he can swoop in, Holly pops up, dusts the dirt from her skirt with a nonchalant shrug, and marches on, completely unfazed. 

“See. She’s fine,” you reassure.

“Whatever,” Steve grumbles, strolling away to sulk in private. 

He makes a slow lap around the playground, hands planted firmly on his hips, casting a critical eye over the chaos. Meanwhile, you snag a spot on a bench, where most parents are engrossed in magazines or gossip, blissfully detached. You watch Steve get roped into playing a monster, though you can tell he secretly loves it. 

It doesn’t take long for him to start stomping around, roaring and growling, chasing the kids as they shriek and scatter. And when they finally tire him out, he collapses beside you, his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and his breath coming in ragged bursts. 

“I told her five more minutes,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of the bench behind you. His curls shine honeycomb gold in the spray of sunlight and his skin echoes the warmth of desert sand, softened pink like the blush of sunset. He looks strikingly gorgeous sprawled out beside you. 

Holly trots over not much later, alarmingly upset. 

You sit up, urgently shaking Steve’s thigh to grab his attention. “What happened, honey?” 

“I– I was,” she sucks in a staggered breath, “I was climbing the stairs and– and a boy, he pushed me.” Twin rivulets of tears are unleashed with a blink, converging at the curve of her chin. 

You scan her from head to toe. Nothing looks broken or bloody. “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” she strains. 

You drag her into your chest, pressing a loving cheek to her ear. “Did it scare you?” 

She nods, hiccuping into your neck. 

“I’m sorry, Holly. That wasn’t nice at all.” 

Steve’s gaze shifts between Holly and the playground to search for guilty suspects. He finds none, thankfully, though he’s still itching to wring out whatever parent it is not watching their kid– which is unfortunately most of them.

“Let me see,” he coaxes Holly over for his own checkup. He picks a piece of mulch from her hair and flicks off another stamped into her calf. “Think you’ll make it? Should we call an ambulance?” 

She doesn’t smile at his joke like you hope. 

“Ready to go home?” you ask.

She sniffs into her sleeve. “Yeah.” 

“Alright.” Steve hoists her up as he stands. Holly's long legs wrap around his waist, feet swaying against his thighs as he walks. 

Holly naps on the way home, not by choice but by sheer exhaustion. She convinces herself she didn’t actually fall asleep when she wakes up in the driveway, swearing, “I just closed my eyes.” 

But it’s quickly apparent that twenty minutes was not enough. She cries because her leftover pizza for lunch is cold in the middle and again when she rubs the sauce in her eye. You turn on a movie, hoping to induce another nap, but The Aristocats is just too good to sleep through. Thankfully, her grumpiness wanes into a more manageable pout, her arms uncrossing to snuggle closer to you on the couch.

When the movie ends, she slinks up, her departure leaving your lap cold. After a long-winded debate about what to do, you all finally agree on playing a board game. Steve steers Holly downstairs to pick one out and she returns with a rekindled excitement, dropping the game Twister at your feet. 

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Twister, but you were expecting something easier. Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders. So you let Steve and Holly go first. The round ends in a heap of tangled limbs and giggles, a winner unclear. But Holly wins the match against you, admittedly fair and square. And it’s all fun and games until she insists you and Steve must compete. 

“Ehh, Holly. My arms are tired,” you reason. 

“But I wanna be the referee too,” she whines. “Pleaseee!” 

Steve shrugs at you, a playful little curve to his lips. If you say no, that makes only you the bad guy. And you just can’t bring yourself to break Holly’s heart over something so simple. 

“Okay,” you sigh, ignoring the nervous tick in your chest. 

Holly pushes you by the hips onto the mat to stand opposite Steve. She gets situated on the floor and excitedly flicks the spinner, calling, “Left foot. Blue!” 

You each step toward a blue dot. Easy. 

“Right foot on green.” 

Right foot, green. You’re shoulder to shoulder now, hips angled toward his. 

“Right hand… yellow!” 

“Here we go,” you mumble, bending down to reach yellow. “Okay.” 

Steve chuckles and follows suit, free hand hovering awkwardly behind your shoulder. 

You twist your head until you can’t, just to see the stupid look on his face. “You know, your long legs really give you an unfair advantage here.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he chides, hot breath fanning the back of your already hot neck. 

“Don’t speak so soon, Harrington. You’re the one who’s gonna lose.” 

“Right hand, red,” Holly announces. 

You lean back toward red, headbutting Steve’s side so you don’t fall. He curls into position next, swaying until his back pocket is inches from your nose. 

“Oh my God, Steve. Get your butt out of my face!” You’d shove him if you had an extra hand. 

Holly giggles in that contagious way kids laugh, automatically pulling one from Steve. 

“Don’t make me laugh. If I go down, so are you,” he reminds you. 

“Umm, left foot green,” Holly says. 

Steve groans dramatically, whining. “What! Holly, that’s impossible. Spin again.” 

She cackles, reminiscent of Queen Holly. “Nope, you have to! That’s the rules!”

And somehow, you both make it to green without knocking each other over. But you’re getting distracted– Steve’s hand has brushed your calf three times now and his shirt is loose, hanging off his chest in a way that gives you a clear view of his tummy. This might as well be sabotage. You tear your eyes away. You must focus. You didn’t care much for winning before, but something about Steve brings out your competitive side. 

“Right hand, green.” 

You bow your knee until it’s wedged uncomfortably into your ribcage so you can reach the green. Your thighs quickly begin to ache. You won’t last much longer in this position. Especially not when Steve arches over you like a human bridge, the zipper of his jeans tickling your back where your shirt has scrunched up. 

He shakes his hair out of the way so he can see you, albeit upside down. His smile stretches wide, radiating pure, unfiltered joy. He’s having the time of his life, and admittedly, so are you. 

Your elbow juts out, nearly giving under the weight of his gaze alone. But you snap it back in place and practically beg Holly, “Spin.” 

“Left foot blue!”

You and Steve lunge for the same blue circle. His sock slides against the tarp, leg extending much farther than he’s prepared for. His arm buckles, chest slamming down against your back. Your elbows give out immediately under the force of his weight, jaw slamming into the floor. 

“Shit, sorry! You okay?” 

A burst of laughter tumbles out of your mouth before you can answer. But maybe it’s an answer in itself. Your chin stings but you're fine. Better than fine, even. 

As soon as Steve scrambles off of you, you flip onto your back. His eyes trickle down you in assessment, eyebrows knitting together, mouth twitching like it can’t decide whether to frown or smile. 

“I’m okay,” you manage, smiley and breathless. 

“Did you hit your face?”

“Just my chin.” 

He reaches for your face with hesitant fingers. “Sorry.”

You shake your head, bolstering his wrist as he cups your chin. “I definitely won.” 

And just like that, all his worry washes away. He pries your hand from his wrist, wrenching you up to sit. “Technically, you hit the floor first.” 

You glance over to Holly for her professional referee’s opinion but find she’s no longer there. “Where’s–”

“I found it!” she yells from the upstairs. What exactly she found, you’ve no idea. But she comes stomping down the stairs not a minute later with a little box in her hands. Bandaids, you realize, as she dumps the contents on the twister mat beside you. “They’re Hello Kitty,” she says, stripping the paper backing off of one. 

You let her little fingers stamp it to the curve of your chin. It’s not bleeding, nor does it really hurt that bad, but the gesture is sweet enough to melt your heart. “Thank you, Holly. You’re so gentle. You should be a candy striper.” 

“I don’t think I’m old enough.”

“When you’re older then.”

Steve decides Twister is far too dangerous to keep playing, but Holly demands a game of Mouse Trap so it works out. Steve wins, despite you and Holly’s strategic alliance halfway through. And by then, she’s asked about dinner twice so you shelve the rest of the games and head up to the kitchen to decide together. 

Holly hums into the freezer, “Chicken nuggets… pizza rolls– oh! Eggos, can we have Eggos?” 

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, peering over her, “Why don’t we cook something? We could have a fancy dinner. Like a dinner party.”

“Can we dress up?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, flipping a pack of ground beef over. 

“Pasta?” you call from the pantry.

“Ooh, yeah. Let’s do that.”

Holly sprints upstairs for a costume, much more interested in the party than the dinner. You pull a box of noodles and an unopened jar of sauce from the shelf while Steve grabs a pot from the cabinet and sticks it under the faucet. 

“Careful. Stove’s on,” you announce, flicking the dial on high. 

Steve backs up from the sink slowly, water sloshing over the side of the pot when he bumps the table. 

“Steve,” you chuckle, pulling a dish towel from the oven handle, “It doesn’t need to be that full.” 

“No?” 

“No, dump like, half of that out.” 

He nods, pouring some out and depositing the rest over the stove. “I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never made pasta before.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed,” you quip, elbowing his side with the box of noodles in hand. “Pour these in?”

He takes the box and gives it a good shake. “How much?” 

“Maybe half? Little more?” 

He tips it over the water, snapping it back up when much more than half slides out. “Oops.” 

“It’s okay.” You chuck a few stray pieces from the counter into the pot. “Everyone’s getting seconds tonight. What do you like in your pasta?” 

“Sauce?” 

The laugh fizzles out in your throat as you realize he’s not making a joke. “Besides sauce. Cheese? Meat? Spices?” 

“Oh, uhh, I’m not sure.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, hand retracting to fidget with the hem of his shirt. He’s antsy, clearly nervous. Maybe embarrassed of his cooking knowledge, or rather, lack of it. Or perhaps afraid the pasta will end up something like the first set of grilled cheeses. 

“We’ll keep it simple then. Holly probably won’t like it too fancy anyway.” 

Steve nervously watches the water bubble, foam climbing up the sides. “Do you like garlic bread? Saw some in the freezer.” 

You fish the box out and line a pan with three pieces. And with bread in the oven and the pasta starting to boil, you hop on the counter to wait.  

“How long does it take?” Steve asks.

“Not long.” 

You open the drawer beside your legs and find a big wooden spoon. Lucky guess. “Here. Stir.” 

His eyes follow the ladle, stirring with steady hands. It’s a peaceful quiet, his focus unusually soft. Not the urgent, fate of his life kind of determination you’re used to seeing. 

When it’s ready, you pinch the spoon’s neck, fingertips sweeping his for the half a second before he lets go. “Now we strain the water. Then we can add the sauce.” 

You find a strainer and plant it in the sink while Steve carries the pot over and pours. He sets it back on the stove, per your orders, and offers a hand when you struggle with the sauce lid. 

He pins the jar against his chest, knuckles straining white in several attempts to twist the cap. But it pops off after a good shake, spraying sauce across your cheek, and spinning to the floor like a frisbee. 

Steve freezes, gawking at your face with a stupid smile. 

“Steve!” You scoop up a dish towel and smack his arm. 

He throws his hands up and turns a shoulder to you. “I didn’t mean to,” he snickers. 

“Don’t laugh! I’ll pour that whole jar over your head.” 

He doesn’t buy your threat one bit, still laughing as he sets the jar down and steals the towel from your hands. “I’ll get it. Sit still.” 

You summon the most menacing glare you can manage while suppressing a smile. He presses the towel to your cheek, thumb gliding across your skin as he wipes the sauce in one languid motion. His eyes flick down to your lips and you’re positive you aren’t imagining it. 

But you’re sweating and your stomach is churning and– “The pasta!” You ram into Steve’s shoulder trying to get by, rushing to turn the stove temperature down. 

Steve whisks up behind you to see the food. “Is it burnt?” 

“No, no. It should be fine.” You scrape the ladle under the bottom layer of noodles. “Pass me the sauce?”

You avoid his eyes as you take it. Was he going to kiss you? Maybe just thinking about it? Or perhaps there was just sauce near your mouth and you’re spiraling over absolutely nothing. 

You toss the food in sauce and divide it into three plates silently. 

“Holly! Food’s ready,” Steve shouts as he fixes the table with napkins and silverware. 

She clambers down the steps in a tutu and a cardigan that you’re pretty sure is Nancy’s. Her smile drops. “Where are your clothes?” 

Steve looks down at his sweats. “Holly, I think we’ll just–”

“Please, Stevie. It’s a dinner party, remember?” 

His eyes dart to you, though you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “One sec.”

He swings back into the kitchen wearing a tweed suit jacket, a silky, black one draped over his arm. His is a few sizes too big, shoulder pads drooping down his biceps, and the sleeves swallowing his hands. He pushes the fabric up his elbows to hand you the other jacket. “For you.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpan. It comes off less sarcastic than you aim for. 

Holly and Steve adopt similar grins as you slip the jacket on. “You look dashing,” she compliments. 

“Very,” Steve agrees, taking a seat beside you. 

You spend the rest of dinner internally debating whether he’s flirting or just indulging in Holly’s playful antics. The uncertainty makes your stomach flip, and suddenly you aren’t so hungry anymore. 

After the dinner party concludes, it’s Holly’s suggestion to go for a walk. She wheels her bike out of the garage, fitted with a set of training wheels and a handlebar bursting with tinsel. A yawn rolls off her tongue as she launches down the driveway. It raises your hopes for a smoother bedtime tonight. 

Even as the horizon melts into the Earth, the summer heat clings like a heavy hand. Trees project long shadows along the road, eating what’s left of the sunlight. Bugs buzz and birds chirp, but a sleepy stillness is ubiquitous. 

“What?” you ask suddenly, whipping your head to face Steve. He’s drenched in gold, pale wisps of hair riding the breeze as he strolls. 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’re staring at me. I feel it.” 

“I wasn’t,” he assures. 

You blink at him. You can’t decide whether to be annoyed at such an obvious lie or embarrassed by the truth. 

He jogs ahead before you’ve come up with something to say. Halfway to Holly, he shouts, “Come on, slowpoke!” 

It only takes one loop around the block for the heat to catch up. Holly complains incessantly about her helmet strap being too tight even after Steve fixes it and you’re itchy from sweat and mosquito bites. Steve’s, well, he might be the only content one. Happy even, guiding you home with a subtle bend to his lips and a soft glow tinting his cheeks. 

Holly whines about having to take a bath, and while you might negotiate it another night, you can see the damp line down her back. But like you suspect, all grievances are forgotten the second she gets in. She likes playing in the bath, even if she forgets it. It’s where she keeps her mermaid Barbie and her collection of rubber ducks, coincidentally all named Bob. 

And while bath time might tend to feel like more of a chore as a babysitter, tonight is different. It’s your last night at the Wheelers, and while that’s not new information, it is startlingly sad. You aren’t irritated when she splashes water in your eye or when she leaves a trail of it down the hall for you to clean. You can’t be, not when you know you’ll miss it. 

Steve helps you tuck Holly into Nancy’s bed. After pinky swearing that you’ll both return at your own bedtime, she drifts off easily. You’re thankful, of course, but a piece of you secretly hoped to be needed longer.  

“Must’ve been tired,” Steve whispers, pushing slowly off the bed. “You okay?” 

You nod, tearing your eyes from Holly to meet Steve’s. “Kinda sad.” You shrug, murmuring, “Stupid.” 

“It’s not.” He cups your shoulder and runs a warm hand up and down your arm. “Come on.” 

You take his hand and let him lead you across the hall and down the stairs. He pulls you onto the couch so you land pressed into the same cushion he’s on. “Y’know, babysitting Holly’s a breeze compared to the usual shitheads. We don’t have to worry about her taking my car keys or fighting interdimensional monsters or summoning a gate to hell,” he says. 

A soft laugh parts your lips. “Think Holly will put in a good word for us with her parents?” 

“You kidding? She loves us. Especially me,” he jokes. “Hate to break it to you but I’m definitely her favorite.” 

“No, you are not. Shut up.” 

He catches your fist mid-punch, cradling your hand like it’s made of wet sand. His thumb crosses each divot between your fingers, stroking up and down your knuckle slowly. “I’m sure they’ll ask us to babysit her again at some point.”

You hum in agreement. 

“Besides, we could expand our horizons. There’s like a million other children in Hawkins that need babysitting.” 

Your smile spills into your cheeks. “We?” 

“Yeah, I think we make a pretty damn good team. Don’t you?” 

“I do, but… we don’t have to limit our interactions to just babysitting, you know?” 

“What are you thinking? Dinner and a movie? Next weekend?” His eyes flick from your fingers to your face– to each eye, sweeping down the center of your nose, stopping right at your lips. 

You turn away in an attempt to soothe your heart as it pounds up to your ears. “Smooth, Harrington.” 

He reels you back in gently by the arm, confidence shining through his smile.“What? Did I read this wrong?” He knows he didn’t, he’s teasing you. 

“No,” you mumble, “You didn’t.” 

He leans in to whisper, “Can I kiss you then?” 

You nod, pushing into the soft press of his lips with your own. He’s not hesitant, nor is he harsh. Steve knows how to kiss, that much is clear. He trades your hand for your cheek, gently tilting your face to the side as he pulls away. 

Your eyes flutter open to a doting gaze. One that travels down the lines and slopes of your neck like they’re made of candy. Steve plants a second kiss on your lips, though fleeting in comparison to the first. But he plants several more to make up for it, working his way in a Z down your cheek, across your jaw, and back down your neck. They’re quick, ticklish little pecks of affection. A sweetness if you ever knew it. 

“Steve,” you admonish, though giggles betray your tone. The hands that frame his face glide gently down to his throat, your thumbs meeting at his Adam's apple. “We’re babysitting.” 

“I know,” he says, kissing your lips for a third time. “Just had to get a few extra in there. For all the times I thought about kissing you this weekend.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?” He laughs, bubbly like you’ve surprised him. “It’s true. I thought about it all weekend.” 

You don’t know why you ask– why you even thought of it at a time like this– but you question him, “What about Nance?” 

“What about her?” 

“You don’t…” you trail off, afraid to even speak the possibility into existence. 

“We’re done. We have been. For a lot longer than I was willing to admit,” he admits honestly. 

“Yeah, but do you–”

“I don’t. Still have feelings for her. Not like that, anyway.” 

You meet his eyes, feeling a strange blend of emotions you can’t quite name.

“If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to let me prove it to you,” he holds your gaze, warm with a sincerity that makes it hard to doubt him. 

“I believe you.” 

You let Steve kiss you several more times on that couch. He’s patient, deliberate, and more kind than you ever imagined he’d be. It’s hard to understand why Nancy would ever let someone like that go. 

ᯓ★

On Monday morning, you blink awake first, the comforting weight of a hand that’s not yours across your hip and another, much lighter one, at your belly. You turn over slowly, finding Steve and Holly wrapped around each other like ivy on trellis. You don’t imagine many people look this pretty asleep. The comb of long lashes kissing the soft flush in his cheeks. The golden lather of sunrise in each wild swoop of hair. The way his lips part for a sigh cuter than you knew one could be. 

He mumbles something unintelligible, sleep talk perhaps. 

You whisper back anyway, “What?” 

Steve sighs, smearing his cheek against the pillow. “Being a creeper.” 

“Me?” 

“Mhmm.” One eye slowly unbinds itself from sleep. Steve adores the tight-lipped smile on your face, broad with an infatuation he forgot could be aimed at him. His hand twitches at your side. 

“You just look so pretty when you sleep,” you admit. Is it too soon to say such things? 

His eye closes as he smiles, nosing into Holly’s hair, selfishly keeping it to himself. You reach across her body to find it, swiping a loving finger across his lips when you do. 

You stay in bed for as long as Holly will allow– which is not very long after she wakes up– but you don’t mind. You watch fondly as Steve helps her brush her teeth and as she helps Steve toast and butter the Eggos. Like Steve, Holly’s a good kid. They’re both helpers at heart. 

And you’re sure to remind Mrs. Wheeler of that when she rings the house to let you know they’re almost home. Holly’s excitement quickly dwindles into sadness the moment she realizes you won’t be staying. But she uses it to bargain one final game of hide and seek before you go. 

“Come on.” Steve drags you by the wrist, bustling upstairs to the bathroom. He throws the shower curtain aside and jumps in, offering his hand to help you after. You sit scrunched together, knee to knee on the porcelain floor, giggling like children. 

“Shhh,” you squeeze his kneecap. “You’re gonna get us found.” 

He jostles your shoulder, mouth agape. “You’re the one who’s laughing!” 

“No,” you insist, though the light in your eyes suggests otherwise. Curiosity sparks and the irrepressible urge to act on it wins. You lean in for a kiss, confirming that’s all it takes to shut Steve up. 

He tastes like maple syrup, loving with his lips as much as his hands. He pulls back for breath and returns for another peck, pressing into the corner of your mouth where your smile keeps drawing higher and higher. 

“Hard to kiss you when you're smiling.” 

“Can’t help it,” you defend. “Never been so happy.” 

He softens like warm icing, a sweet and gooey mess in your arms. But the shake of the front door closing stiffens him. 

“Mommy!” you hear quickly after. 

Steve scrambles up and over the lip of the tub, tugging you out with him. You follow him downstairs where Mrs. Wheeler swings Holly in her arms like she’s much smaller than she really is. Mr. Wheeler steers a suitcase silently through the entryway. 

“Did you have so much fun?” she asks Holly, peppering kisses across her temple. “Ohh, I missed you!” 

Holly revels in the affection overload, bending backward to giggle at you and Steve. 

Mrs. Wheeler grins. “How was she?” 

“Great, as always,” Steve assures. His cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed— though you could chalk that up to bedhead, not the aftermath of your short-lived makeout session.

You nod, adding, “We went swimming and to the park and–”

“IHOP!” Holly yells. “I got pancakes with chocolate chips and extra sprinkles!” 

“Did you? Sounds like you had a lot of fun.” Mrs. Wheeler plants Holly on her feet. “Can you give hugs? Say thank you for being such good babysitters?” 

Holly launches herself at Steve. He sends you a smirk over her shoulder, rocking her side to side in his embrace. You can just hear him say, I told you so. 

But she offers the same enthusiasm and more for you, dragging you onto the floor for a proper goodbye hug. “I don’t want you to go,” she pouts in your ear. 

“We’ll come back. We can have playdates?” 

“Can’t you just live in Nancy’s room? She’s never here anyway.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “I wish I could,” you admit honestly. 

She reluctantly loosens her grip on your shirt when you peel away. 

Mrs. Wheeler sees you and Steve off with a warm smile. Holly darts through her mother’s legs for one final hug on the porch. You wave goodbye, the moment slipping into something bittersweet before Steve bumps his shoulder into yours, a playful grin softening the farewell.

You dawdle up to your car, wringing your hands together when you reach the door. “So.”

“So,” he parrots. 

“This weekend, right?” 

His smirk blooms into a full smile. “Friday? Pick you up at seven?” 

“Okay,” you nod. 

“Okay,” he chuckles, clipping a hand around your jaw and leaning in. 

You turn away so the kiss skips across the softest stretch of your cheek. “Steve.” 

His eyes never leave your face as he assures you, “They’re not looking.” 

“Don’t be so sure.” 

Holly waves at you through the living room window, a smile as wide as her face. Steve’s hand falls down to his side and he takes a platonic step back. You both return her goodbye, but Holly stays, her little hand pressed to the glass. 

“Think she’ll tell?” Steve asks, not an ounce of worry in his tone. 

You shrug, tugging him back in by the waist for a proper kiss. “I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world.” 

[freyito]

ꜱᴘᴀʀᴋꜱ ꜰʟʏ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ inspo: BOOTHILL DAY!!!

★ summary: Boothill tends to be a little clingy when he's charging, cause he has nothing to do! C'mon, kiss him! Nothing'll happen, he promises!

✧ a/n: happy belated boothill day :')... i currently have him e5s1 but im going for e6, i might try and get s2... if you havent gotten boothill yet, may you all be boothill havers!!!!

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, short n sweet, proofread

✎ wc: 1k

Boothill has nothing to do when he’s charging, especially when he’s at home. Which should be a blessing, he doesn’t have to sit in the middle of nowhere for at least two hours. You could get him all sorts of things to keep himself occupied at home, cards, board games, pull up some old western, and he’d still complain about how bored he is.  Not to mention, he’s especially clingy. He protests if you leave his sight for a second.

You had gotten home after a long day of work, tired out and aching. Boothill was on the couch, face down, grumbling about something while charging. He just looks sooooo miserable, hair cascading over his face, messy, as if he had just woken up from a nap. He kicks his feet like a kid, the motion occupying him.

Yet when he hears you come home, his head pops up like a dog, and if he was one, his tail would be wagging. His face lights up immediately and pushes his hair to the side, running his fingers through it and petting it down to make sure he doesn’t look like too much of a mess. You don’t get a chance to complain about your day before he’s beckoning you closer, cursed by the distance between you two and his damn charging cable.

“C’mere,” Boothill’s sheepish smile is quickly replaced with that confident toothy grin you’ve come to know as home. “I’ve been soooo lonely, buttercup…”

Boothill could support you on his own easily, you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life, but you still chose to work, to give you some semblance of normalcy. There was nothing wrong with some extra cash in your pocket, anyways. Even if Boothill had complained that sitting still in one place would set the IPC off on him and probably you, too. He was never home much, anyways, so you felt as if there was no need to worry.

You saunter over to Boothill, sitting down in his lap, the cowboy wrapping his arms around you near immediately. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, letting out a low hum of content. His hands roam your body, no idea what he was searching for, he just had the need to feel. He himself visibly relaxes as he does so, content to have you home and in his arms once more. You don’t have much to say– not that you need to– and simply enjoy the moment, watching as his hands glide from your hips to your stomach, before pulling you impossibly closer and squeezing you like you were a teddy bear.

“Missed you…” He mumbles once more, leaning over your shoulder and trailing kisses down your cheek, enjoying the warmth of human skin once more. If you were to point out how clingy he was, he’d adamantly deny the fact, yet would still find a way to get all up in your DNA.

Slowly, he trails the kisses from your cheek to your lips, and when your lips meet, sparks fly, literally. Or atleast, it feels like it. You pull away abruptly with a small ‘ow’, placing a hand over your mouth. Boothill gives you a confused and dejected look, before the lightbulb goes off in his head.

“What? Am I… electrifyin’?” He asks with a heavy voice, laden with exhaustion (can he even feel that?) and mirth. You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the silly pun, and he leans in for another kiss. You try to avoid it, but he catches you, and places another shocking kiss on your lips. After several more, you manage to wrench yourself free from his grip pushing yourself off of him. “Awh, c’mon! Don’t just–”

“Nuh uh,” You shush him, crossing your arms, turning your head, and pouting. “I’ll kiss you after you finish charging.”

“Wait, c’mooon!” Boothill starts, sitting up from the couch and reaching for you. His hands graze over your shoulder, yet he was unable to move further due to the limits of his charging cable. You took one teeny tiny step back so you were just out of reach. “Don’t do this, baby! Pleaaase!”

Boothill begs you like you were breaking up with him, he’s one step away from getting on his knees and groveling for you to come back… as in step closer. He does his best to give you puppy eyes, but the most that does is unsettle you a little, the way his eye locks on with you and glowing a faint red. All you do is stand there and watch, taking another step back.

“Fudge…. c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…! Ain’t I just the sweetest?” He desperately pleads his case, as if you being in his arms is the only way he could possibly live. “I won’t kiss you ‘til I’m done charging! I swear! Just let me hold you? Pretty pretty muddle-fudgin’ please?”

His pleas fall on deaf ears as you turn on your heels to leave him whining and grumbling, deciding that you would like to make dinner. Perhaps wind down a little after work, maybe read a book… all things Boothill tried to protest, but ultimately, after ten minutes of you in the kitchen making yourself food, he finally went quiet.

When you come out of the kitchen, bowl of pasta in hand, he’s sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, pouting like a child. He was muttering things to himself, some that you caught which were curses, sometimes your name, and other words. When you come into the living room, he turns his head and gives you the silent treatment for once. You don’t mind this, sitting down on an armchair across from him, eating your food in silence.

Boothill can’t stay silent forever, nor can he wallow forever. Only after five minutes of you being there, he breaks, staring you down with his attempt at puppy eyes once more. Charging takes forever, and he wants to have you in his arms now. He can run on 40% battery for a little while, anyways. He unlatches the charging cable and practically runs over to you (over such a short distance…), cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“One more kiss? Pretty pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[kookiestiddies]

1 | first sightings

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x female reader

Genre: Enemies With Potential | Fluff, Angst & Smut

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, mild injury, reader is grumpy, mentions of flashing (???), attempted humour, if you see any typos and grammatical errors no u didn’t

A/N: there'll be no fixed schedule for this bcs I have commitment issues rip so good luck to ya'll honestly. happy reading! feel free to lmk your thots :8) 👍🏼

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

3 years ago...

Fuck my life! 

That’s what you think to yourself as you try to catch your breath; an impossible feat considering the fact that you’re lugging along 3 monstrous and overpriced textbooks. And not to mention the fact that you’re racing across campus because it’s only the first day of your college career and you happened to be late.

Sure, maybe it could be considered your fault because you hit the snooze button too many times over the course of an hour before your class actually started. Maybe you only further sealed your fate by taking too long in the shower. However, in your defence, it should be decreed a social injustice for classes starting earlier than 11 am to be acceptable. Rest and hygiene come first about all else, yup yup. 

You were so focused on reaching your destination that you missed to sound of the bell ringing overhead the campus coffee shop entrance on your side, signalling someone’s rushed exit.

So imagine your surprise when you find that your race to the class that’s 2 minutes away from starting is brought to a halt when you’re suddenly sent flying perpendicular to the direction you were going in by an unseen force only to land harshly on the lawn in front of the coffee shop. 

You see it all happening in slow motion: you’re rapidly reaching the ground but not before you jut out your arms to hopefully prevent your face from getting too intimate with the muddy ground. Your ultra-premium textbooks leave your grasp to land in- 

Oh NO! 

A puddle.

While you sit there in shock, barely processing what just happened, you hear someone swearing nearby from the direction of the coffee shop. You look up towards it to find a pair of doe eyes looking back at you. The owner of said doe eyes is crouching ahead of you; a boy.

Before you can take a good look and process him, he’s already up on his feet and quickly picks up a bag scattered haphazardly next to him. You snap out of trance and call out to him as he makes a move towards the main campus buildings. 

“HEY!”

He hesitantly stops and looks around at you. “What?!” 

What’s with his tone?! 

“What do you meant, What?! You knocked me down! My textbooks are ruined!” you say as you get up haggardly, brushing off the mud on your elbows.

“I’m sorry, but I’m already late for my class, I’ve got to go,” he replies quickly and starts scurrying away. 

“WHAT?!” you yell to his retreating back to no avail. Oh, now you’re mad. 

The boy’s hurriedly retreating figure comes to a sudden halt and turns around, speeding towards you with his hands in his pocket. 

That’s more like it. Get your ass over here and apolog-

“I’m sorry about your textbooks, hope this covers it!” he rushes out and shoves a wad of cash in your hands. He doesn’t wait for your response before he darts back towards the campus building. 

You’re too stunned. You are simply. Too. Stunned.

An angry pout forms on your face as you mull things over and count the cash that he generously thrusted to you. A whole 50 bucks. The sheer audacity of that stupid boy. 

What the heck were you supposed to do with 50 bucks?! Each textbook cost atleast 90 bucks!

You pick up your bag and your now wet, smudged and ruined mammoth of a textbook set with a groan and angrily huff your way towards class, which you are now officially late for.

Imagine meticulously planning out your first day at college from hour-to-hour, only to end up becoming the loser that shows up to class late with a set of muddy textbooks, ruined hair and shockingly dirty clothes.

Operation Have A Positively Impressionable First Day of College: FAILED.

You would continue your run to class if it weren’t for the fact that your knee was sore as a result of you getting to 2nd base with the grass which led to you limping the rest of the way. 

Maybe people are kind, maybe it was the fact that your anger and annoyance were monstrously visible to anyone passing by, but thank fuck, everyone moved away from you as you stormed your way to class. Thanks to your encounter with that fuckhead of a boy earlier, your mood is now at its lowest setting and you simply cannot tolerate anyone else for the rest of the day probably. You curse him under your breath the whole way.

It can’t possibly get any worse, right? Wrong.

When you finally make it to class, you were 4 minutes late and three significant things happened one after the other:

#1 You had to face the embarrassment of 200 pairs of eyes, plus the lecturer’s, witnessing your walk of shame as you cautiously entered the class like a gazelle amongst a pack of lions. 

2# All the seats towards the front were taken up so you had no choice but to find an empty seat towards the back of the class. 

3# By your luck, you realised too late that you were seated right in front of an annoyingly familiar face.

He tried to hide from you. 

You know this because he looked at you straight in the eyes, visibly panicked and lied his head on the table with his hoodie and arms shielding him, pretending to be asleep. 

Tch, pathetic!

Thankfully, the rest of the class went by as smoothly as can be, though you did feel the heat of someone staring at you at the back of your neck. You tried your best to ignore it by forcing all your attention toward the lecture. 

When the end of the class came around, you were quick to exit the class. 

Frankly speaking, you’ve had enough of today.

As you turn down the hallway, you bump into Nayeon, a friend you’d made during the freshmen orientation. 

While you were still deciding on whether you should project a more introverted or extroverted personality onto all the new people you’d be meeting in college, Nayeon made the choice for you by taking up your neighbouring seat and starting a conversation with you about the shitty AC in the hall. In less than an hour, you’d already gotten to know all about her eight exes and how two of them almost gave her STDs and one of them almost gave her a whole baby. You were still contemplating which one would have been worse.

“Y/n! Oh, thank god you’re here! Y/nieee, today has been such a nuisance and it’s barely 12 pm!” she cries while sliding her arm in yours as you both start walking in sync towards the college cafeteria.

Hah! 

“You know, Mercury must be in retrograde or something because my day has been awful so far as well,” you say with a downward tilt of your mouth. 

“Oh? Does that have anything to do with your whole ‘I’m 27 years old with no prospects’ cosplay thing you’ve got going on? Lovin’ the limp by the way. It really adds to the whole vibe” she retorts with a cackle. You can’t help but giggle along with her until you remember the reason for your haggard get up.

You haughtily recount your morning’s incident to her and heave up your textbooks, now reduced to a damp and muddy stack of papers.

“Ew, what was his problem?!” she asks and you giggle at her disgusted look. You’re both quiet as you reach the cafeteria and get some food on trays. “C’mon, the gang’s over there,” Nayeon says as she leads you to a table that seats her friends whom you had also briefly met during orientation. 

You take your seat and set your food on the table along with your ruined textbooks. Hoseok peeks a curious look at them, you notice, but he doesn’t say anything. But his curiosity is abundantly loud, so you answer it for him anyway.

“Some turdball knocked me over this morning on my way to class and they dropped right into a puddle,” you say with a pout. 

“Oh? Does that also explain the Mother Nature cosplay you’ve got going on right now?” he replies with a cheeky grin and reaches out to you to pluck out a piece of grass that you hadn’t realised was in your hair

Geez, this is so embarrassing.

“Uh-huh, totally. It’s avant-garde baby.” you retort which sends the table in a fit of giggles, including Hoseok, whose laughter rings louder than the rest. 

“Also, what’s up with you guys and cosplays? Nayeon made a comment earlier too,” you bring up. Somehow, it causes Jimin to spiral into a choking fit and the rest of the group starts knowingly laughing. 

“Oh, you’re gonna LOVE this!” Chae bellows towards you. 

She’s interrupted by Jimin who whines “Chae, for the love of God, can you please shut up about that? It’s literally not even funny anymore!” 

“Oh yes it fucking is! Go on,” Nayeon urges Chae on.

“It’s an inside joke right. When we were in high school, he took part in a random Joker & Harley Quinn cosplay competition with one of our other friends. This idiot here was Harley and he flashed the whole audience with his ass hanging out from under his skirt the whole time!” 

The whole table hollers with laughter, except for a violently blushing Jimin. In between your giggles, you ask Jimin “Did you guys win though?” The table erupts in another round of laughter as Jimin mutter an angry “No.”

“Oh my god, there’s even a video! Nayeon, where’s that video Jungkook took?” Hoseok yells. 

“STOP!” Jimin yells but it’s too late. 

In lighting speed, Nayeon whips out her phone and shows you what truly is Jimin’s ass hanging out from under a skirt as he prances about the stage in true Harley Quinn fashion. There’s another handsome boy next to him dressed in a Joker costume. “That’s our friend, Taehyung, by the way,” Chae adds. 

“Jesus fuck, do you have that video on standby or something? You pulled it out so fast,” Jimin whines at Nayeon. “I have it saved as my live wallpaper babe,” Nayeon replies and sends a flying kiss towards Jimin which earns her a swear thrown at her face in return.

“Hey, where’s Jungkook? His class should have ended by now, right?” Hoseok asks Chae.  

“Hmm yeah, he was in the same class as Y/n actually. Did you see him?” Chae turns to you. Your attention is still focused on the phone in Nayeon’s hand as you reply, “Sorry, I was a little preoccupied to notice. Besides-,” you lift your head to look at her.

“-I don’t even know what he looks like,” you say with a smile.

“Look out for someone who looks like me, duh. I may be cooler than him, but we’re still twins,” Chae teases.

“Well, speak of the devil, here he comes,” Hoseok says and shifts his attention to look over your shoulder. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. I had to sort something out with my lecturer,” an eerily familiar voice says behind you. 

No. 

Fucking. 

Way. 

You don’t want to turn around.

“We gotta head out soon for the . By the way, say hi to Y/n, she’s watching your video of Tae and Jimin at the comic fest,” Hoseok says with a bright smile. 

“Huh? Hmm, kinda weird that you came over just to watch Jimin hyung’s ass reshaping the world’s seat,” the new guy acknowledges you and you feel him approaching from behind. 

“You’re all horrible,” Jimin says.

The table erupts in a fit of giggles and you suddenly feel a warm hand on your shoulder. 

Fuck.

You have to turn around now. 

You’re turning around.

“Hi, I’m Jung-” he stops halfway and his eyes widen as he realises who you are. 

You fake a wide smile and say “Hi Jungkook. I think we’ve met before,” you say harshly and look at him straight in the eyes. You’re pouring every bit of spite you have crawling around your body into this look. And it seems to pay off with how Jungkook gulps loudly and looks at you with doe eyes.

The whole table has turned to witness your interaction now.

“Oh, so you have? Small world huh,” Chae chirps.

What a small world indeed.

Your moments away from blowing a fuse and cussing him out in front of your friends who are watching your interaction, when the unthinkable happens, too fast to be stopped.

Jungkook immediately gets down on his knees in front of you, brings his palms together and shrieks out, “I’M SORRY!”

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

[emmyrosee]

May I request opening a bakery with Sukuna…preferably with baby brother Yuji in tow 🥹

Tysm if u do this. ily! ❤️

OKAY BUT IMAGINE YUUJI IN A TINY APRON AND HAT WITH THE LOGO ON IT, UGH-

Just imagining sukuna in the back, baking his life away with his grandmother’s secret recipes in the back of his mind as he uses his big muscles to work the doughs and sweets into the shapes he desires. Donuts, croissants, cookies, any pastry he remembers from his youth, he bakes in the back to share them with the world.

Especially since yuuji never got to indulge in them. Part of this is for him, too.

You manage the front mostly, his paranoia of you getting burned keeping you from the kitchen- not to mention, his customer service skills certainly are not up to par with that of owning a business- helping guests and handling the cash. Every now and again, to restock the shelves, he carries out a big tray filled with pastries, and he presses a kiss to your lips as he walks by.

Yuuji loves to watch his brother bake. Same thing with the fear of his little brother burning himself in the back, or knocking something over and getting hurt, Sukuna tries his hardest to instate the rule of not being in the kitchen, but the little boy can’t help it. He loves to watch, to observe- sometimes, sukuna gives him a cookie, and that doesn’t help the ‘stay out of the kitchen’ rule- and ask questions. But other times, yuuji likes to be up front with you, plopped on a little stool next to the register while he reads out the total for the guests.

The hat is too big for his head, and you often find yourself adjusting it for him, and his little apron is covered in melted chocolate chips and frosting. But you don’t mind. He’s so cute, it’s hard to. Especially when he comes out the back with sticky glaze on his cheeks, and you smile and put your hands on his hips. “Yuuji, did sukuna give you a donut?”

“…no,” he lies.

You thumb at his cheek, making him giggle, “so if I go back there, there won’t be a missing donut?”

He giggles again, “no.”

As if on cue, your boyfriend comes out of the back, big tray in his arms as you eye him. He freezes, “what’re you looking at?”

“It’s just before his lunch, Sukuna.”

“And?”

“You gave him a donut?”

Red eyes furrow and look at his brother, “I thought I told you to save that for dessert, you little brat.”

“I was too excited,” yuuji confesses, but he’s still smiling, not hiding his guilt very well.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, “I’ll deal with you later. For now, go in the back and eat the sandwich mom made you.”

“Not hungry,” the child says.

Sukuna’s nostrils flare and he closes his eyes, “okay, let’s try this again. Go in the back and eat the sandwich mom made, because if you get sick from all the sugar and no real food, and mom yells at me, I’m going to get you, you hear me?”

The tiny boy squeals and runs to the back room, leaving you and your boyfriend in the front, where some patrons sip their teas and watch Yuuji go. You shake your head and give him a kiss, “get him with what?” You ask.

He shrugs, “I dunno. I’ve never had to get that far, the fear I instill usually makes him do what I ask.”

“‘The fear you instill?’” You snicker.

“Yeah,” he says, winking. “You’d better watch your back too.” He walks past you to start stocking the shelves with fresh pastries.

You smirk and bump your hip with his, “maybe I won’t.”

[nighttimealone]

NEED ghost one!🥺

The house’s out of detergent and neither Simon or you noticed until you both staring at the filled laundry basket this morning.

“Well, I suppose I’m gonna go out and buy a bottle or two now. Or else we’ll need to go all naked tomorrow if we don’t do the laundry today.” You ruffle your hair in slight frustration, you both just woke up minutes ago, planning to dump the clothes into the washing machine then slump back on the bed again for another hour of slumber.

“Not that I mind that.” Simon voice’s still a bit hoarse from sleep too, but he’s in a good mood apparently, almost make you roll your eyes at his shameless comment, but your lips form a grin when you shoot him a side glance.

“You come with me or you stay home being cheeky?”

“You know the answer.”

Simon must admit, he’s still a bit sleepy from waking in early hours on vacation, eyes half-lidded from grogginess at first.

But he’s pushing the shopping trolley behind you as you navigate through the alley in the supermarket, he doubts he has ever been this awaked before.

The cap and disposal mask conceal his gaze directly sticking on your ass. You rummaged through your closet and finally got a pair of shorts to wear before you do the laundry. It’s an old shorts you own for years, been washed for countless times before it retired due to faded color and shrinkage, tucked in the deepest part of the closet until you fished it out today.

The shrunk fabric clings snuggly to your plump cheeks, a bit too small and tightening around your upper thighs, digging into the flesh faintly and allow them to spill around the hems just right.

He can’t tear his eyes away from how your butt jiggles every time with your steps, almost bump the trolley into other customers when he sees you bend down to pick up a bottle of detergent. “Sorry.” He mutters quickly to the poor customer, fixating on how your supple cheeks bounce tantalizingly when you straighten up that he misses the skeptical look from the customer gives him.

“Got the detergent. let’s go.” You saunter back to him, reach down to set the bottles in the trolley.

A Dangerous move without you knowing, because the next moment his palm covers one of your cheeks, gives it a firm knead and makes you yelp out in surprise.

“What the hell, Simon?” your neck snaps up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, and you find his eyes, swirling with lust and wickedness inside.

“ 's your fault for keeping flaunting that perfect arse of your in front of me.” Simon quickly pushes the trolley to the self-checkout counter, unceremoniously tossing the bottles of detergent with another hand practically shoving the cash into the machine.

Having a closer look at that ass perfectly hugged by your shorts finally break his last string of restraint. He ignores your confused questions at his sudden action, swing the shopping bag over his shoulder and take your hand, striding back to the truck with you following him and try to figure out what happened.

“So this is why you’re all worked up, huh?” You’re dragged into the driver seat along with Simon, now straddling his hips, raise an eyebrow at the tent forming at his crotch.

“Hard not to stop my cock from getting hard when your arse kept jumping up and down the entire time I was walking behind you, love.”

“We’re supposed to go home now and launder those dirty clothes, you know?”

“Adding a few more dirty clothes into the basket won’t be a big issue.” His hands find their way back to your cheeks again, palming them in “And I’ve already said, I don’t mind you have to go about the day without clothes tomorrow.”

note: please feel free to request for part 2 (aka smut) if any of you wants it, thanks

[ackermans-posts]

𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓵 𝓯𝓾𝓷

feat: bf!satoru x reader

contents: public sex, exhibition kink, daddy, dirty talk, tit play, riding, horny reader, multiple orgasms,cream pie, breeding, slapping, goofy, ferris wheel, late night, blowjob, oral

“satoru! let’s go on the ferris wheel,” you giggle, pulling his sleeve in your direction, “haven’t been on one of these in forever!”

satoru can never deny you, grinning from ear to ear as he follows you. looking down at your skirt, he tells himself it’s not because of how your ass bounces with every hop you take; he tells himself it’s because he likes Ferris wheels too. somehow you know he’s staring at you, thinking naughty things. your pussy flutters at the thought.

“can you pay, baby?” you ask with a smile, turning to face him with the cutest pout you could muster. he tsks, laughing to himself before giving a small smack to your ass. “killin my wallet, hun,” he murmurs, handing the worker the cash for the ride. not even seconds later you’re climbing on the little ride and pulling him in with you, waiting till you’re at the top before speaking.

“you enjoying today’s date so far, huh sweetie? you must be, considering I’ve spent over $100 already,” he hums, the tone sounds harsh but you know he’s kidding around, he couldn’t care less about the money if it means makin his girl happy.

“mhm, daddy,” you prop yourself on his lap, hands hugging around his neck, “been so good, the view is wonderful,” you tease, staring directly at his lips. satoru leans in, brushing his against yours, lightly ; just teasing. your legs squeeze against his.

“you sure?” he grins against your lips, “nothing’s missing?”

you smile, drinking his face up with your eyes, “jus- just one thing,” you whisper, movin your clothed pussy against his thigh lightly, “jus’ been so so horny since we got here,” you whine, giving his faces small kisses.

“yeah?” he lilts, “you can hold off till we get home, can’t you?”

“you’re supposed to take care of me, daddy”

satoru sucks in a breath, feeling your legs squeezing against his. he takes a quick look out of the window and groans, “the shit you make me do,” then he’s grabbing your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout and his mouth is on yours. you giggle against him, moving your tongue along his as he tries to pull you closer. your little gasps fuel satoru on more and more, loving when he lifts your tiny skirt up, kneading your ass.

you feel wetness sliding down your pussy, n you can’t help but keep kissing him. the feeling of his tongue gliding over his lips turns you feral, “shit-,” satoru laughs, trying to keep up with your mouth, “so fuckin hot,”

his hands squeeze at your ass one more time before he’s hissing in annoyance, toying at your pink fucking panties. he’s breaking the kiss, leaning towards your ear.

“I’m’ gonna rip these fuckin things off, baby” he whispers, leaving harsh kisses on your neck and chest. you feel yourself hump your pussy on his leg again, wanting his mouth back on yours.

“oh god,” you whine, “m’ gonna cum”

satoru grins, he cannot stop himself from chuckling. he pulls down your top, letting your tits run free. “yeah, baby? how? i haven’t done anything to you yet,” his mouth sucks on your nipple, teasing and pulling.

“gimme a kiss, baby,” he teases, smiling at how eager you are to listen. you almost leap at the opportunity, lips smashing on his as you whimper, reaching to toy with your nipples as he takes control of your mouth. one last moan and he doesn’t miss how you’re shaking, grinding that lil pussy on him like your life depends on it.

“ya just came, hm?” he laughs, noticing a big wet spot on his jeans. he smiles at your cute little nod, loving how you already look out of it. he’s about to speak when the Ferris wheel cart suddenly stops, and a loud intercom fills your ear.

“Hello! I thank everyone for coming to this lovely spring carnival! As a little treat, please look out your windows as we pause this ride to release some fireworks. Thank you, and do not be alarmed— the ride will resume once they are done.”

“please, satoru,” you gasp, “wan’ you to fuck me so so bad before we get off,” he winces, growing noticeably harder and harder at your cute begging. you bury your face in his neck, sucking and leaving little kisses, doin your best to hurry him up.

“shhhh, baby,” he hushes you, trying to calm you down as he grabs onto your hips, “I’m gonna take good care of ya, pussies gonna be well fed when I’m done wit her,” his hands toy with your skirt for a little before peelin off your panties.

“lift your hips for me, love” he mumbles, finally ridding yourselves from that barrier. satoru exhales, fingers soaking themselves as he dips through your folds. you gasp, holding onto his neck as he starts to circle around your clit.

“ah— satoru,” you cry, trying to ignore the hard pounding in your core as he dips a finger inside you. he grins, inching it inside and out before adding a second finger.

“so fuckin wet,” he grins, “shit, don’t even needa prep you as much,” his fingers slide out to rub against your mouth, spreading your juices against your tongue. satoru’s dick grows incredibly hard under you, almost popping out of his zipper.

“you want it so bad? ya’ gotta work for it,” he coos, “be a good girl n’ get on your knees for me,”

you whine, but don’t want to wait to figure out what’ll happen if you don’t listen. you slide off him with a pout, your tits bouncing with the movement as you end up on your knees, face rubbing against his leg. satoru’s eyes are glued on you, fuck the fireworks. he can’t look anywhere else. he rubs the bulge on his jeans, head falling back with a groan at the feeling.

“ah shit,” he groans, grabbing your hair with one fist, “take my cock outta these jeans for me,”

your core flutters with the command, and your eyes don’t differ, they stay directed at him as you hastily unzip his pants, pullin them down to his legs before you do the same to his boxers. you could cum, just by watching how his dick pops out, smacking against his abdomen. precum’s already slippin out, n your mind goes fuzzy with the need to taste him.

“good fuckin girl,” he gives his dick a few strokes, eyes rollin back while he stares at your tits. he’s not gonna fuckin last so he has to make the most of this. “spit on it, baby, go ahead.. spit,” he murmurs, almost spilling himself on your face right then and there when you oblige, drool seeping from your lips onto him.

you’re honestly dazed. nothing’s registering through your mind, your boyfriends cock only thing you can think of, only wanting him inside of you, breeding you, pounding into you so fuckin hard in this cart that someone starts to question it. you must be so fuckin lost that satoru’s words weren’t even reaching your brain.

“are you listening to me, baby?” he murmurs, giving a little slap to your face that finally knocks you out of your dream. “am I gon have to stop all this? cus my girl isn’t listening?” he threatens, his strong hand gripping your cheeks together.

you panic, of course you don’t want him to stop! “no, no m’ sorry daddy, m’ listening,” you plead, staring up into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“you gon listen to daddy? I said stick your tongue out… yeah, fuck, jus like that… keep it out while I tap my cock against your lil tongue,” he groans, mumbling intelligible words as he slaps his tip against your tongue before sliding his whole length inside. you can’t help but gag, throat constricting against him. he doesn’t let up, gripping your hair as he fucks his cock into your mouth straight away.

“hollow your cheeks out… just like I taught you,” he murmurs, dick sliding even deeper, feelin your nose hit the base of his cock each time, “yeah, fuck jus like that”

drool seeps from your mouth into his balls. you do your best to keep going, but eventually satoru notices your quick shortness of breaths before finally giving you a little break. he pulls his cock out of your mouth, givn you time to cough and heave.

“cmon, you can handle a little more for daddy, right?” tears pool from your eyes but you nod, grabbin the base of him to give his tip little sucks and kitten licks. you’ll do anything for him, he admires. he has to pull you away before the tightness of his balls becomes too much. he needs to finish inside of you tonight.

“god, please! want you inside of me, satoru,” you cry, wiping the incoming tears from your eyes. the need to being full is pulling at your insides.

“aww, don’t cry baby, you’re gonna get it real soon,” he coos, wipin your tears away along with the drool on your chin. “jus’ gotta work for it okay? cmon, hop on daddies lap.”

you sniffle, standing up to climb over him. “lift your hips again, yeah.. good girl,” his cock slides up and down your cunt, spreading the wetness over his tip. you gasp, and can’t help but sit all the way down on it. satoru curses, groaning loud as he grips your hips tightly.

“oh, fuck. bad fuckin girl,” he hisses, feeling your walls squeeze against him so tight, even he has to take a second to compose himself. you’re crying, knowing you took him all way too fast without taking time to adjust to the pain.

“oh, fuck! daddy it hurts.. hurts so bad,” you whine, sitting all the way down at the base of his cock, being careful not to move. “shh, I know, I’ll make it all better soon,” he says, thumb immediately reaching down to rub at your clit. you moan, grabbing into his shoulders. some pain immediately reduces to pleasure, n you’re still left a sobbing mess.

“more more, oh god,” your loud whimpers fill the cart, your own fingers toying with your nipple as satoru continues rubbing at your puffy little bud.

satoru grins, givin your lips a little peck. “feel better? yeah?” you nod at him, mouth gaping in pleasure.

“good girl. bounce up and down on my cock, alright? I know it hurts, do it to make daddy happy,” he commands, and you’re doin your best to listen. you start with a slow roll of your hips, moaning as your clit rubs over his abdomen.

just then, the loud intercom starts again.

“Good evening! Thank you for your patience and I hope you all enjoyed the view. The ride will start up again in 5 minutes, thank you.”

your eyes widen, that’s not enough time for you both.

“satoru, what do we do,” you whine, still rolling your hips against his cock.

“guess ya gotta hurry up, hun. don’t care if it hurts, m’ gonna fuck you myself if you don’t start bouncin,” he hisses, feelin your tight pussy squeeze the life out of him.

panic races through your veins as you lift up just until the tip is in before sliding all the way back down. you know you’re being loud, but you could not care anymore. light pain fills you but you keep going, sliding up and down until you’re seeing stars. the sound of your ass smacking over his hips is the only thing registering between you.

“oh fuckk, doing so fucking good,” satoru groans, staring at your tits rolling up and down between each bounce. his eyes roll back as you finally find your pace. “you fuckin feel that? your pussies squeezing me so damn tight,”

his hips start meeting you halfway, increasing the pace and intensity way more than before. you feel out of it. In the best way possible. the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot every thrust sends you away, more and more moans pouring out of your throat. you can’t help, you cum right away.

“oh fuck, you cummin for me? cumming on my cock like a little slut— oh shit,” he groans, thrusts growing sloppy and careless. “reach down and play with your pussy,” he hisses, moaning alongside with you as your pussy contracts around him. cream coats his cock, makin sure his pace doesn’t let up.

“m’ gonna fuckin cum inside you, fill your pussy up until you can’t hold anymore.. fuck fuck,” he leans forward to suckle your tit in his mouth, loving how you’re still trying to bounce on his cock.

“I-I can’t anymore! satoru please, s’ too much,” you cry, pussy feeling overstimulated with how much his cock keeps hitting your g-spot over and over again. you feel as if you’re gonna cum once more with the pressure.

“you can, baby. fuck, I feel you tightening up again, you gonna cum with me?” another hard thrust follows by another through his constant mumbling, and it’s his finger pressing on your clit that sends you to paradise again. you squeeze around him, a loud wail comin from you as you release.

“good girl, gonna cum inside this tight little pussy- shit shit-,” one last sloppy thrust has him releasing his load in you. thick ropes of cum filling your womb has you trembling over his frame. his name the only thing coming from mind fucked brain. satoru’s groan fills the air as he at last stills his hips, letting go of the last drops of cum. he chuckles, laying his head back as you fall alongside him, his cock still nestled in your pussy.

“can’t believe you made me fuck you inside a ferris wheel,”

“feel so much better now, daddy,” you smile against his neck, all content and happy.

satoru laughs before looking out the window.

“shit, hurry up and put all your clothes on. we’re almost at the bottom.”

[papaya-twinks]

big sister - l.n

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Pairing: Lando Norris x babysitter!fem!reader

Summary: Y/N looks after Lando’s kid for the weekend, and she gets paid very very well afterwards.

A/N: Don’t worry, contradictory to the title, this is not incestuous

So I’ve actually had this in my drafts since I made this blog and I didn’t wanna release it coz I thought it was too freaky and I only just found it again hehe

You were more than happy to sit for Lando again, he’d hired you almost a year ago to look after his darling daughter, Erin. She was an angel, really, and you needed the extra cash.

“Erin, love, do you want to eat something?” you said, popping your hand into the living room. The little girl shook her head, babbling incoherently as you smiled. You were wearing nothing but a satin top and panties, the Singapore heat was astonishing.

It was crazy how people managed it. Lando was supposed to be home by 8pm, you looked at the clock, it was 7:12pm right now. You turned back to the girl, she had a little cooking set laid out on the floor, little plastic foods being gently laid into pans.

How you would have loved to be a kid again. Suddenly, the door opened, making you turn your head. “Hi bubs,” Lando said, planting a gentle kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “Hey Y/N,” he nodded to you, you noticed his voice dropped an octave as he addressed you.

“You’re early,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your full payment,” he joked, making you laugh “but, can you do tomorrow too?” he said. He had only asked for today, and your hotel being an hour away from here didn’t help. “My hotel’s really far, can you get someone else?” you said apologetically.

“Yes but, c’mon, no one’s as good as you are. Or pretty, and you can stay upstairs,” Lando said pleadingly. But you didn’t miss what he said. Pretty? “Fine,” you rolled your eyes playfully. He nodded thankfully as he lifted Erin up. “Bed time, princess,” he said, as she cuddled against his chest.

You made to go to the guest room (where you’d stayed times before) but he shook his head. “Let’s watch something,” he smiled. You nodded, sitting on the sofa as you waited for him.

The heat was getting for you, so you undid the top three buttons of your shirt, slouching down as Lando reappeared. He was wearing an incredibly see through white tank top that showed off his abs and a pair of simple black shorts. Three metal chains dangled off his neck as he shook his curls gently.

“Sooooooo, anything in mind,” he said, lips parting slightly as his eyes bore in you. You shook your head, allowing him to be in control. Fuck, that sounded so wrong. His eyes went back to the screen as he settled on an old F1 race. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice his eyes roving over your body, especially lingering on your slightly exposed chest.

Fuck it, you only live once. Taking the risk, you flexed your arms back, the shirt showing more of your cleavage. “I’ll get some wine or shit,” Lando muttered, cheeks flushed. He came back with two glasses, pouring the red liquid out for you as he did the same for himself. You sipped gently at the liquid, swirling it around.

“Nice top,” Lando said, turning to you, “so, was Erin good for you?”. You shrugged, “she always is,”. He smiled. “Just like you, hm?” his eyes darkened. “Lando…” you immediately understood the sexual connotations behind his words. 

“Don’t think you can just practically strip like that,” he said, running his hand through his hair, his arm flexing. “Take what you want, Y/N, I’m not gonna give it to you,” he narrowed his eyes. A new kind of confidence seemed to overtake as you crawled onto him, a small patch of wetness dragging along his thigh.

“Already? I haven’t touched you,” he raised his eyebrows. You blushed but he nudged your hand towards the waistband of his pants. Fuck. You pulled his boxers down as well, his cock springing up, hard and leaking. Double fuck. How was it supposed to fit?! Lando seemed to have read your mind as he chuckled.

“Don’t worry, beautiful,” he said, voice deep as he lifted your hips. He gently lowered you, small, quiet whimpers escaping your lips as he wriggled slightly. “So tight, shit,” he muttered. After you) adjusted, he let you bounce gently, his big fingers undoing the buttons of your top as your tits bounced. 

“Lando…” you whined, nails sinking into his shoulders as you quickened your pace. His hands clamped around you waist, holding you firm and still as he bucked his hips up. He quickened his pace, your eyes rolling back as he covered your mouth.

“Erin’s asleep,” he whispered. A few pounds later, you felt the knot in your stomach unravel. “Daddy!” you cried out, your cum spilling and mixing with his. You both panted, before Lando’s lips locked onto yours. “Night, love,” he whispered. 

The next morning, you sat at the breakfast bar, the feelings of last night still in your mind, eating the freshly cut green apple. Lando wasn’t showing much feeling, a smile permanently on his face however, small kissed on your cheeks, nose, forehead and lips interrupting his pancake making.

“Hello sissy,” Erin babbled, walking in as she smiled. “Sissy?” you frowned, confused. “Yeah,” she nodded, just as confused as you. “Why’s that, bubs?” Lando said, puzzled. “Because I heard you last night, when you called him your daddy!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

Lando burst into laughter as the colour drained from your face. This girl was permanently SCARRED. 

[estrellami-1]

Ten Minutes

Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.

Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.

“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”

“I need you to pick me up.”

A pause. “Stevie?”

Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”

“My parents are in town.”

Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.

Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.

His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”

“A friend,” he says lightly.

“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.

“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”

Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”

“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”

“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”

“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”

“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”

“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”

Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”

“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”

“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.

He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”

He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”

The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”

“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.

He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”

“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”

Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”

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