#bob hall x reader

[kbwrites]

Devotion

synopsis: Sukuna discovers Uraume’s hidden desire for his wife. Amused and intrigued, he twists their devotion into a dangerous game of seduction and control, where loyalty, lust, and power collide..

⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f!reader, nsfw, slight Uraume x reader, power play, sukuna being sadistic, voyeurism

⚝wc: 3.2k

⚝a/n: guys am I slowly turning into a Sukuna glazer? Is that what’s happening?

“Uraume.”

“Yes, master?”

“Have you had…lovers before?”

Ryomen leaned forward over the dining table, his crimson eyes sharp with mischief, resting his chin lazily on his hand. One of his upper arms reached for the delicate porcelain cup, lifting it to his lips as he took a sip, all while gauging Uraume’s reaction with predatory precision. Uraume, ever composed, took a deep breath—perhaps steadier than expected, but not beyond Sukuna’s notice.

“No, my lord. I am only loyal to you.”

Sukuna could only chuckle darkly at his most trusted advisor’s iron resolve.

“Surely you’ve been attracted to someone before.”

It’s subtle, but Sukuna noticed how Uraume’s body tensed at the question.

“Thats…”

His eyebrow quirks in amusement, the thought of them finding interest in anything other than servitude absolutely intriguing.

“Oh?” He purrs “Tell me Uraume, who’s captured your interest?”

Uraume pauses, their mouth slightly agape about to answer until the doors to the dining hall swing open.

“Good morning~” You yawn strutting into the grand hall. Ryomen’s ears perk up at the sound of your voice. You were draped in a black silk robe, loosely fitting to reveal your cleavage. He didn’t miss the way Uraume suddenly went rigid, their spine straightening as though an unseen force had pulled them taut.

“My lady..” Uraume says quietly, bowing deeply, far lower than usual. There was a slight tremor in their voice, one that would be imperceptible to anyone else, but to Sukuna, it was as clear as day.

Something flickered in Sukuna’s eyes—something dark, cunning, and hungry. He was beginning to connect the threads. Uraume’s abnormal stillness, their faltering words, their body language—how had he not seen it before?

As a light bulb switched off in his mind. Sukuna’s eyes darken as his mind swirls with ideas.

“Good morning, peach.” he purred, his voice a rich, velvety drawl as he pushed his chair back slightly, creating space between his thick thighs. You settle between him, his lower arm wrapping securely around your waist. Your fingers plucked a few of the fruits, and with a mischievous smile, you lifted them to his lips. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed as he accepted your offering, his lips brushing your fingertips as he took the grapes from your hand, savoring the taste.

“Did you sleep well?” he hummed, his voice a rumble that reverberated through your body, his grip on your waist tightening.

Uraume was trying so hard to maintain their composure, but Sukuna was a master at unraveling even the most tightly wound strings. He didn’t miss the lingering gaze, the subtle admiration—the longing in Uraume’s eyes as they glanced at you.

You smiled softly, nodding as you fed him another grape. “I did.”

The room felt charged with an unspoken tension. Sukuna’s gaze flitted between you and Uraume.

“Uraume was just about to tell us something…” Sukuna chuckled, his voice a deep, velvet purr dripping with dark amusement.

“Weren’t you, Uraume?”

The words rolled off his tongue like a challenge, low and sultry, and Uraume flinched ever so slightly. Their mouth opened, but no sound emerged, their composure threatening to crack under the weight of Sukuna’s relentless gaze.

Uraume’s adams apple bobbed as they swallowed hard, their hands clenching at their sides. They looked as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to jump or retreat. Their gaze flicked to yours—full of something raw and unspoken—before they quickly averted their eyes again, their face flushing.

“Yes…” Uraume managed, voice tight. “The preparations for the festival next week are complete. I thought it would be a good outing for you, my lady.”

You perked up, Ryomen knew how much you loved going outside the castle. And even though he despised being among the general public he never chastised you for it.

He shifted in his chair, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer against him.

“An outing…” Sukuna mused, his voice low and thoughtful, malicious intent danced in his eyes. “How delightful.”

“Would you come this time Ryo?” You asked, eyes turning up to him with that innocent, pleading look he could never refuse.

His gaze flicks up to Uraume. He saw the way Uraume’s shoulders tensed, the way they remained painfully still. Sukuna could feel Uraume’s silent plea—don’t come. Don’t make this harder than it already is. But Sukuna, ever the sadist, felt the opposite.

His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as he looked down at you. “How could I say no when you ask so sweetly, peach?” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.

༺═────────────═༻

As the days slipped by, Sukuna’s amusement only deepened. What had once seemed like gestures of loyalty and respect from Uraume now held a different meaning altogether. The signs were there—delicate and unspoken, but there nonetheless.

He watched closely, sharper now, how Uraume’s hands lingered just a moment longer than necessary when adjusting your robes, or the way their fingers brushed your skin with a softness that would have seemed impossible for a being so devoted to carrying out the King of Curses’ bidding. Uraume, so effortlessly deadly, became something else entirely when in your presence—gentle, careful. As though you were made of glass. And Sukuna saw it all.

Of course, Ryomen Sukuna knew how captivating his wife was. You were beauty incarnate—graceful, magnetic, and utterly enchanting. He had always reveled in the way your presence could command a room, how your smile could make the world feel warmer. It wasn’t lost on him how others admired you, but he had never paid it much attention. You were his. That had never been up for debate.

The thought of his most trusted advisor being captivated by you was both amusing and intriguing. To think that Uraume, who had stood by his side through countless battles, who had remained steadfast and loyal through the bloodiest of wars, was not immune to your charm—it was almost laughable. But it was more than that. It was a game, a deliciously cruel game that Sukuna couldn’t resist playing.

༺═────────────═༻

It was bath time, the air thick with steam, curling up in soft tendrils around the marble walls of the grand bathhouse. You and Sukuna sat on opposite ends, your legs grazing one another beneath the surface. Uraume carefully washed your hair, applying the perfect amount of pressure when scratching your scalp.

Sukuna watched from his end of the tub, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he observed the way Uraume tended to you—so gentle, so precise. It was the kind of attention a lover would give, not merely an attendant.

You, of course, were oblivious. Your eyes were closed, soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as Uraume’s deft fingers massaged your scalp. The warmth of the bath relaxing you, Sukuna could see the soft smile tugging at your lips, unaware of the turmoil that brewed just beneath the surface.

“Uraume?” You question softly “Did those oils you ordered from Kuroshiki arrive yet? I think Ryo would like them today.”

“Yes…” Uraume says snapping out of their daze “I will fetch them right away my lady.”

“Bathing with fragrance oil? You really do spoil me” Sukuna says smirking.

You leaned closer to him, your fingers lightly trailing along the edge of the tub as you spoke, voice soft and inviting. “You seem… distracted as of late, my king,” you murmured, “I wish you would tell me what was occupying your mind.

A dark chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position as his crimson eyes traveled over your face, lingering on the way your wet hair clung to your skin and how the water caressed your naked form beneath the surface.

“My dear,” he purred, his voice low and smooth, “If I’m distracted, it’s only because of you.” He let the words hang in the air, his gaze darkening as he watched your reaction, the tension between you palpable.

Your lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, and you raised a brow, tilting your head as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest.

Ryomen’s hand shot out, snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your breath catching in your throat as you found yourself pressed up against his chest. His other hand trailed lazily through the water, his fingers skimming along your thigh just beneath the surface. Your heart raced, the warmth of the bath and the heat of his touch intertwining, making it difficult to think clearly.

“And you, my queen…” Sukuna’s voice rumbled with a dark edge, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he spoke. “What has been occupying your mind?”

Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze your skin, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you. You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck, your lips parting as you replied, your voice soft and laced with desire. “Only you, my king. Always you.”

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I like to know where your thoughts are.”

Just as the moment seemed to deepen, the door to the bathhouse creaked open. Uraume entered with their usual calm, carrying a small, ornate jar of oils. The soft clink of the jar being set down on the table was like a loud intrusion into your private world. Uraume cleared their throat, the sound sharp in the silence.

“My lady, my lord,” Uraume announced quietly, their eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away, their cheeks flushing slightly with the strain of maintaining composure.

You pull yourself away from your husband back to your side of the tub, smiling politely.

“Thank you Uraume.”

Sukuna’s expression darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he observed Uraume. His earlier pleasure was replaced by a simmering frustration, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the timing of the intrusion.

They bowed respectfully, eyes fixed on the floor as they took their leave. The door clicked shut behind them, and the room fell into an uneasy silence.

As the two of you settled back, Sukuna’s thoughts were already racing ahead. He decided he would push Uraume’s resolve to the breaking point, manipulate their emotions, and watch with dark satisfaction as their carefully constructed façade crumbled. Sukuna was eager to see how far he could push his most loyal servant before they fell apart.

The morning light seeped through the dark curtains of your shared bedroom. Sukuna sat up, his muscular back pressed against the dark mahogany headboard as he watched you.

His eyes, sharp and intent, traced the curve of your body as you slept. The way your body stirred against the black silk sheets, the fabric of your sleep robe slipped off your shoulders—revealing more and more of your skin with every rise and fall of your chest. His own arousal growing at the mere sight of you.

He leaned down to you, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. One arm snaked up to your chest, slipping under your robe to caress your breast. You whimpered in your sleep, squirming under his large hands.

“Ryo?” You question, eyes still closed as you feel the warmth of his palms set fire to your cool skin. Your body responding to him almost instinctively, heat pooling in your core as his touch deepened, awakening a familiar hunger within you.

“Awake already, peach?” he murmured against your skin. The sound of his voice alone—low, gravelly, and undeniably seductive—vibrated through you, making your breath hitch.

You hum as your back instinctively arches into his touch.

“Don’t you have… ahhh. Meetings in the morning?”

“Mmm.” he purred in acknowledgment, peeling the robe off of your body. “It can wait. There’s something far more… compelling… that’s caught my attention.”

Your body shivers slightly as Ryomen removes the covers, he drinks in the sight before him. Removing his mouth from your neck, before dipping his head between your legs.

He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your dripping cunt. Ryomen flattens his tongue, the wet muscle circling your bundle of nerves. His two upper arms hold your thighs in place, nails digging into the plush flesh. The room fills with your sleepy moans and whimpers as The king of curses slurps up your essence. He latches onto your clit, sucking while his tongue swirls.

You grab tufts of his fluffy pink hair between your manicured fingers, tugging gently. He looked up at you through half lidded eyes, smirking against your cunt as you grind against his face.

You felt the pressure building in your core, Sukuna felt your heart quicken—continuing his ministrations. Just as you felt the dam about to break.

Knock knock

Ryomen let out a low growl, the vibration rumbling through your cunt. He reluctantly tore his face away from between your legs.

“What is it?” His voice laced with venom.

“It’s me, my lord.”

He pauses, gaze flicking between the door and your panting form. An idea pops into his mind.

“Come in.” Sukuna muses, his voice smooth and deliberate.

Your eyes shot open, widening in shock as the doorknob slowly began to turn. Panic flooded your veins, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what he intended. You tried to push against him, but Sukuna’s grip was ironclad, his body pinning yours down against the silken sheets.

“Ryo, please!” you whispered urgently, your heart racing as you felt the weight of the moment closing in on you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. But your pleas only seemed to excite him further. Sukuna’s smirk deepened, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips.

Uraume stepped into the room, eyes respectfully downcast, holding a scroll of parchment.

“My lord, I—”

But the words died on their lips the moment they finally looked up. Uraume stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the scene before them.

“Ah, Uraume!” Sukuna drawled, his voice full of amusement. “You may speak.”

“I-if this is not a good time—“

Ryomen chuckles, his hand snaking up to give your tit a gentle squeeze. Rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You bite back a whimper.

“Nonsense! Continue.” He says, gaze never leaving you.

Uraume glances at you, their eyes raking over your form. They had dressed and bathed you countless times. However nothing could quite compare to the way your skin glistened with sweat, chest heaving as you tried to regain a steady heartbeat. They way your eyes were nearly black, glazed over with pleasure. They shouldn’t feel this way… they couldn’t and yet it was impossible to ignore the growing heat, the tightening coil as Uraume saw you in your most vulnerable state.

“Speak, Uraume,” Sukuna commanded again, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He relished in the discomfort radiating from his loyal servant, the way their breath quickened and their hands trembled ever so slightly at their sides.

“U-Uraume… you don’t have to listen to him.” You manage to mumble, trying to separate your rational mind from the pleasure your husbands fingers were giving you.

“Oh? But darling Uraume wants to see this.” He purrs. “Don’t you Uraume?”

They want to go, to turn on their heels and walk—no run quickly, and far away from the both of you. But every movement—every verbal protest failed to ever come to fruition. All Uraume could do in that moment. Was watch.

Watch as you writhed under their master, as your supple skin they so tirelessly cared for was marked. As your aching cunt was toyed with, as the saccharine moans fell from your plump lips.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance at Uraume, who watched intently as Ryomen gathered the wetness from your folds and his index finger was slowly swallowed by your walls. The lewd noises your sloppy cunt uttered as he pumped slowly into you—like sweet music. He grinned maliciously as he felt you clench around his finger. Despite your earlier protest—he knew you were enjoying this as much as him.

You bit down on your lip, stifling your moans as he curled his finger up to your sweet spot.

“Don’t hold back, peach…” He hums as he inserts another finger. “Let them hear how good it feels.”

Uraume’s breath hitches again, body tensing even more as they watch your every move from the sidelines. Sukuna’s gaze falls on your hand, gripping the silk sheets for support. His eyebrow quirks as another idea pops into his head.

“Hold her hand, Uraume.” He commands softly. Their eyes widen briefly before following his command. Uraume’s hand wraps gently around yours, intertwining fingers. Their breath is heavier now, cheeks flushed with color.

You finally make eye contact with Uraume, looking up at them through half-lidded eyes. You had never seen them like this, such hunger in their dark pink gaze. Looking upon you with pure lust. It made your cunt clench even more around your husband’s fingers.

Ryomen continues his assault on your sopping hole, pumping in and out relentlessly. Every time his curled digits brushed against your g-spot you feel the all too familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.

“Ryo! m’close…” You whine softly looking down at him. He only grins in response glancing at his advisor.

“Don’t tell me.” He growls “Tell Uraume how you feel.”

Tears now pricked your eyes, the overwhelming sensation proving too much for you. You look up at Uraume through wet lashes.

“U-Uraume… I’m fuckkk gonna cum!” You whimper, they don’t respond—instead squeezing your hand tighter as they struggle to breathe.

Sukuna smirks as his wife and most trusted attendant share the intimate eye contact. His own cock twitching in excitement.

“Uraume…” he hums in mockery “She’s right on the edge, should we give her what she wants?”

Their eyes flit between you and Sukuna, feeling dizzy with pleasure. You looked so needy, so desperate for release. They couldn’t deny you any longer. They needed to see you come undone.

“P-please Uraume.” You choke out—hiccuping as fat tears rolled down your face. “Can’t take much more!”

Uraume lets out a shaky breath, their gaze never leaving yours.

“Y-yes! Please my lord!” Their voice almost matching your own desperation.

And with one more thrust of his thick fingers your body shakes. You cry out in pleasure. Writhing as Uraume’s nails dig into the flesh of your hand, holding your hand in a vice grip. A gasp escaping their lips.

Sukuna slowly removes his fingers from you, bringing them up to Uraume’s face teasingly before sucking them clean of your slick. A silent reminder that you would always be his.

Sukuna and Uraume fix their gaze on you, sprawled out on the sheets, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He glances over at them, noticing how their lips were parted. How their eyes were glued to you. As if they dared to blink you would disappear.

“She’s beautiful… isn’t she Uraume?” He purrs, lightly tracing the curves of your body.

“Yes master… she is… perfect.”

[ssorenz]

LET’S HAVE THE SEX TALK, AY ⭑ .ᐟ

syn ⊹. in which teaching your 150y/o curse boyfriend the ways of the human life (and pleasure) goes surprisingly smooth.

cont ⊹. choso kamo x fem! reader, virgin!choso, oral (giving and receiving), premature ejac, afab!reader, NSFW CONTENT minors dni!!! wc: 1k

a/n⊹. virgin choso save me virgin choso 🙏 i wanted to post this since its been sitting in the drafts for so long omg

“baby, somethin- something’s wrong wit’ me. . .”

the half-curse invokes from your bedroom, his anxious timbre making you rush hurriedly down the hall—only to find him sat on the edge of your shared bed, blushing profusely with a small throw pillow covering his crotch.

ohhh.

you and choso had been together for about 6 months now, yet the two of you never had any sexual encounters, due to the fact that you wanted him to become more adjusted to human life before trying anything. but now with this certain issue at bay, you decided it was finally time.

you took a deep breath before recollecting yourself, taking a cushiony seat next to him, and explained to your boyfriend that what he was experiencing was utterly normal and nothing to be ashamed of.

"jus' make it stop, please. ."

oh, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

and before you know it, you’re gravitating yourself lower, closer and closer towards his obviously growing erection. even through his pajama pants you can see how big he is. and you sure as hell weren’t wrong.

your lips form a perfect ‘o’ shape once he’s completely out of his boxers. an angry red mushroomed tip that’s practically dripping already— crystalline beads of pre down to his hefty pale base thats accented with a vein or two. and to think this was here the whole time…

“i-is something wrong?” choso inquires, a hint of worry in his tone. shifting your gaze upward, you could see his averted gaze and beet red cheeks from sheer embarrassment. you giggled softly, he was so cute when he was flustered.

“nuh uh, everything’s perfect. now, im going to do something, n’ you tell me if it feels good or not. okay?”

he swallows, before nodding eagerly in agreement, still averting his eyes from your figure below. lolling your tongue out, you licked a long warm stripe from the base to that oh-so sensitive tip of his. a poorly stifled moan could be heard from above as choso’s clawing at the downed sheets behind him, instantly stiffening up from this foreign euphoria.

"f-feels s’good," and he’s gasping out between breaths, eyes fluttering shut out of pure ecstasy. you smile around his cock, lips instinctively wrap around his sensitive head— giving small kitten licks before gradually taking more of him into your mouth. choso's hips begin to jerk up involuntarily as you begin stroking him with your tongue, the heat of your mouth making him twitch inside. a delicate hand of his finds its way entangled inside of your hair, holding you in place as if he’s beginning to lose himself completely, giving in to the bliss.

choso's resounding moans become more and more frequent as you work your way down, taking more of him into your mouth with each pass. his hips beginning to thrust upwards, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head.

he dares to open his eyes— and that was his biggest mistake.

seeing you on your knees, eyes virtually glowing with pure lust in this low lighting, gazing up at him ever so tenderly yet seductively. taking him down your throat with little to no effort, god it was enough to make him-

“sh-shiitt!” and ropes of his warm essence are rudely painting the back of your throat as he’s spasming in your mouth, cum trickling down onto your tongue when he pulls out. his breathing is still uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly as he’s trying to recover while you’re sitting pretty with a coy grin plastered on your face. “how was that, cho? did it fee—”

“w-wanna try it on you… please?”

and now the roles are reversed, your legs hooked over his shoulders as he’s kneeling infront of your bare cunny.

he leans in, warm breath tickling against your inner thighs, nervously dangling his tongue out before swiftly flicking it just on your clitoris, causing you to groan.

and that first taste has him hooked. he latches himself onto the bud of your clit, similarly to how you did moments prior. it’s barely been seconds and he’s delved nose-deep into your wetness. he wasn’t all that sure about what he was doing, but telling from the way you were so vocal, mantras of his name echoing throughout his ears, he was doing a damn good job.

there was that feeling yet again— that strain in his boxers as his crotch pooled with a familiar warmth. he looked down and sure enough, there was again a strained tent pitched in his pants.

and his body's moving faster than his mind, his hand’s already snaked down to his boxers, palming himself through the cottony fabric. muffled guttural groans evading through parted lips as he’s drinking up your candily sweet juices, all while his hand’s wrapped around his stiffened length. trying so hard to replicate the sensation of your warm, wet mouth that was just present moments ago.

hips stuttering in sync with his rhythms, as your hand is engulfed in his ravenated strands, broken cacophonous moans of his name string from your mouth as your grinding along the heat of his tongue—leaving your pussy drooling, glassy slick dripping down the man's coated chin.

"haah—ch-cho, doin' so good..." your praise only riles him up even more, his pace picking up, becoming more and more lost in a daze. tongue darting in and out of your cunt with quick precision, teasing every sensitive spot it managed to find.

you feel your stomach tightening, the creeping sensation of your climax approaching ever so hurriedly. and it hits you like a crashing wave as one final thrust from choso’s tongue puts you right over the edge, body shuddering as it washes over you.

he can’t hold back much longer either as his cock is aching. and with a few last frantic, sloppy jerks, he finally pulls away from your cunt as loads of his cum spill into his boxers.

gasping for air himself, he looks up at you through strands of his sweaty hair before proposing the question that makes even your worn-out expression morph into something much more fitting— shocked, if you will.

“c-can we go again?”

ssorenz™ 2024, do not repost, translate or copy.

[0mg-bird]

Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader

Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.

“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.

Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.

Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.

“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.

“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.

Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.

By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.

“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.

“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.

As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”

Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”

“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”

Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”

Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.

His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”

“She’s not fake!”

~~~~~~~

“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.

Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.

Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.

“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.

“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.

You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”

Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”

Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.

You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.

As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.

You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over her upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.

“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.

You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.

“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.

“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”

You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”

“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.

“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”

He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”

Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.

“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”

“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”

He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”

“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.

His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.

Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.

As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.

“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”

He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.

~~

Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.

“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.

“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.

“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”

You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.

By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.

Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.

“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.

A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.

“What?”

“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.

Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”

You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.

“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.

Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.

Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.

You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.

“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.

“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.

Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.

“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.

“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”

The crew grows a sour look.

“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.

Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.

“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.

“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.

The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.

When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.

“Where you goin’?” He questions.

“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.

He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.

His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.

“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.

Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”

They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”

“What?!”

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 2,922

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.

You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”

So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.

Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.

You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.

Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.

You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.

“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.

Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.

For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”

The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.

James. Freaking. Barnes.

You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.

You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.

You were just acquaintances.

You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.

“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.

He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.

He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.

James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.

You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.

“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.

James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.

“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.

He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.

James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”

You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”

James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”

You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”

You gulped and nodded.

“Bucky.”

He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You froze, you didn’t know what to do.

You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.

And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.

You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.

“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.

So, you nodded.

Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.

He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.

He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.

You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.

You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.

“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question.  He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.

He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.  

His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.

Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.

You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.

He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.

When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.

The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.

You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.

He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.

He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.

He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”

Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?��� You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”

You froze, “you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I kinda am.”

“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”

“Should I take that as a, yes?”

You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”

🎀🎀🎀

A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!

I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!

This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.

I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!

Hope you lovelies liked this!

Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[teamred]

after midnight

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x mutant!reader | smut | 1.8k

SUMMARY | logan hates that you never listen to him and you can't stand how he still treats you like a kid. but tonight's your chance to change each other's minds.

WARNINGS | smut, breastplay, oral s*x (male receiving), piv s*x, power dynamics

RATING | explicit

NOTES | this is more dialogue and tension than smut, but i hope y'all still enjoy!

The X-Mansion at night is eerily quiet, a peaceful respite compared to the bustling energy during the day with the swarm of students walking around. Despite the stillness, some nights, like tonight, make sleep hard to come by. 

You carefully tread down the stairs, through the halls, and towards the communal kitchen to grab a drink. 

With the flick of your hand, you open the fridge, its bright light illuminating you amidst the darkness, and glance at what’s available.

Times like these, you wish there was something stronger than soda available, but you settle on a bottle of ginger ale and levitate it towards your hand. You will the fridge to close behind you as you make your way to a high stool by the kitchen island.  

“Shouldn't be walkin’ around in that outfit, bub.” 

Startled, you whip your body around, clutching the bottle to your chest and holding your hand out, an instinctive fighting stance. You relax at the sight of him leaning against the doorframe. 

“Jesus Christ, Logan…” you exhale, shaking your head.

He turns on the low lights above the kitchen counters. His hair is tousled from sleep, and his usual scowl is plastered on his face.

Your eyes sweep over his sleep wear—a simple fitted white tee and grey sweats. Then you glance down at yourself—black booty shorts and a loose crop top. Sure, what you wear to bed is a little risqué, but it’s comfortable. 

“What are you—my dad?” you shoot back, sipping your drink and leaning against the counter.

Logan rolls his eyes, crossing the room to grab a Dr. Pepper from the fridge.

“You should put on a robe or somethin’,” he grumbles. “The kids could see you.” 

He reaches to untwist the cap, but you beat him to it, using your powers to unscrew it with a swish of your fingers. The cap clatters onto the island, a bit louder than you intended. 

“You know, kids aren’t exactly wandering around the mansion at 3AM,” you mutter.

He downs half the bottle in one go and you can’t help it, but you’re enticed by how his Adam’s apple bobs with each gulp. Your eyes sweep over him again, noticing how the shirt stretches perfectly over his body and the outline of his length underneath his sweats.

Logan may be an asshole, but at least he’s an attractive asshole.

When he finishes, he tilts the bottle towards you with a sneer. 

“Yeah? Look who's talking.”

In a flash, you swipe his drink into your hand and shove him against the edge of the counter. He stumbles, almost falling to the floor, and snarls a curse.  

Your nostrils flare as you close the distance between you, fists clenched. “When are you gonna take me seriously, Logan? I’m about to become a professor soon.”

He stands up straight, towering over you and matching your intensity.

He grits out, “When you finally start listenin’ to me.”

You scoff, the bitterness rising in your chest. “Oh, so that's what this is all about.” 

You shake your head, finding it all too familiar. Coincidentally, this was why you couldn’t sleep tonight. 

Logan jabs a finger towards you. “You never listen to a goddamn thing I say during training, always throwin’ yourself into the danger and I’m the one always pullin’ you out.” 

“It's just the Danger Room!” you whisper-shout back, not wanting to wake others. “And you do the same shit all the time, Mr. Hypocrite.”

“Because I can handle the risk."

“And what? I can't?” 

“Don't get cocky with me."

You step closer, merely inches away from his face, and raise a brow, meeting his glare with a defiant smirk. 

“What are you gonna do, Logan? Bend me over your knee and teach me a lesson?”

The words are meant to taunt, to push his buttons, but they come out with an edge you didn’t expect. 

Something daring.

Something that challenges Logan. 

His gaze darkens, and the room fills with a charged silence. His breathing turns heavy, his eyes fixed on you like he’s ready to pounce. 

“I just might.” 

The tension snaps. 

You’re unsure who moves first, but it doesn’t matter because you’re on each other, the kiss raw, messy, and all-consuming.

It’s a clash of hunger and fury. Lips crashing, teeth nearly clashing. His hands seize your bare thighs hard. Likewise, your nails dig into his muscled arms and shoulders. His groan turns into a guttural growl at the bite of your touch. 

Effortlessly, he hoists you up, and you wrap your legs around him before he sets you down onto the cold tiled countertop. His hand snakes its way up your shirt, calloused fingers finding your nipples, rolling and pinching them ruthlessly.

One gasp escapes you, then another as he thrusts his thigh between your legs; the friction is delicious against your aching core. 

“Tell me you'll listen to me,” he rasps the demand, his mouth now sucking and biting down your neck. 

Initially, you shake your head, but he twists your nipple hard, dragging a sharp moan from your throat.

“Yes,” you moan. 

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Logan,” you seethe, detesting how weak you are under his touch, but you can’t control yourself. 

He chuckles irritatingly, brushing your neck upwards with the tip of his nose, until he presses his mouth against your ear. “You gonna do as I say?”

You nod. A desperate whine escapes your lips as he presses his thigh harder into you. Your body’s inflamed, craving more than just this from him. 

“Then get on your knees,” he commands. “Show me what you got.”

As if under possession, you jump off the counter and fall to your knees as Logan switches spots with you. He drops his sweatpants towards his ankles and holds his cock in front of you, stroking it. 

You almost salivate at the sight. Not that you’ve ever imagined fucking Logan, but it’s unsurprising how long and thick it is. 

You start off with chaste kisses and darts of your tongue. A touch here and there to torment him. Minutes pass, and when he's had enough, he's about to say something until you suddenly take him in as much as you can.

You channel all your desire and frustration onto him in the form of crude pleasure to prove yourself.

Your tongue swirls. Licks up the precum leaking from his slit. Mouth sucks on his tip so hard, Logan's gripping your head roughly, groaning a plea for you to slow down. You disobey and relax your throat, allowing him to hit the back of your throat.

He practically has to rip you away to avoid an early end to all of this. His mouth is back on yours again with his drenched cock pressed up against your thigh.

Logan leads you to be on the counter once again. Impatiently, or perhaps it's laziness, his fingers deftly drag the fabric of your shorts and underwear towards one side to prepare for his entry.  

And he doesn't even ease into it, knowing how wet you are from just a whiff of the air.

He's not gentle, and you don't want him to be. You yearn for each deep thrust, letting his fullness fill you to the brim.

“Is this what you wanted?" he growls. "Me fucking some sense into you?” 

“If that’s what it takes to prove to you I’m not a fucking kid anymore, then—fuck—yes…” 

He answers every moan you make with a deeper plunge. However, the moans rise to cries. Logan puts a hand over your mouth, drowning them out.

In turn, the suppression of it only accelerates your climax and somehow draws out your powers. Utensils shake, along with the cupboards. 

“Sweetheart,” he warns with a low chuckle, still keeping a steady pace, “you’re gonna wake everybody up.”

“Don’t care,” you say, words muffled behind his hand. “Just keep fucking me. Don’t stop, don’t stop—” 

Everything shakes in unison with your body’s trembling. You whimper Logan’s name, eyes fluttering, until you come undone around his length. 

The kitchen slows its shaking as you come down from your high, and he pulls out, jolting his thick release onto your inner thigh with a sharp moan. 

Both of you are still, listening for any sign of footsteps or voices of anyone that is coming to investigate the noises. But the mansion is still quiet as a mouse, save for your rigorous panting and the hum of the fridge. 

Logan draws his pants back up and reaches for the paper towels. He holds them out in your direction, and, without ever touching it, you rip one off, wipe away the mess, and toss it into the garbage. 

Jumping off the counter, you adjust your clothes, but not much is needed since nothing ever came off. 

“So,” he says after catching his breath, reaching for his Dr. Pepper behind you. His body presses slightly against you, the warmth of his body radiating onto yours. “You gonna listen to me from now on?” 

“That depends.” You drag your ginger ale towards you with a tilt of your head. In sync, you chug your drinks. “Are you gonna treat me like an adult from now on?” 

“I’ll try, kid,” he says, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You shove him playfully at the label and he chuckles. “Sorry, it’s outta habit.” 

“But seriously,” he continues, his expression hardening into his usual tough one. “You know that I only say those things to look out for you.” 

That catches you off-guard. You search his eyes, revelling in the sincerity of his words. 

“I know, Logan,” you smile and nod. Leaning in, you kiss him tenderly on his cheek and begin to walk away. “Try to get some sleep.” 

When you’re about to leave, he calls out your name softly, causing you to turn around. 

“If you ever have another sleepless night, come find me.” He closes the distance and pins you down with an intense stare and a smug arch of his eyebrow. “I still have to properly teach you a lesson over my knee, y’know.” 

“Is that so?” you challenge. “Even after everything that happened tonight?” 

“Tonight was just a preview,” he whispers. He lifts his hand to palm your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. “I need to keep you in check so you won’t forget.”

You're drawn to him, wanting to close the gap with a kiss.

But you decide against it, not wanting to let him win this round.

“I’ll think about it."

Turning on your heel, you saunter away. His eyes track every move, every sway of your hips in those tight shorts, drinking in the sight of you until you disappear from view. 

Despite your tentativeness, Logan’s determined he’ll have another taste of you soon enough. 

[imaginedisish]

Poker Face (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: OKAY! Here is the strip poker fic! This is not a request, but there are a few requests I really like, so I'm most likely going to write one of those next! Could not waste the opportunity to use Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" as the inspiration here. I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: You and Logan are alone in the mansion for the evening, and after a few drinks, your game of Blackjack turns into strip poker...

Warnings: 18+ Sexually Explicit Content MINORS DNI!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV, multiple orgasms, softdom!Logan(?), cocky!Logan, alcohol consumption (neither reader nor Logan get drunk), feelings, friends to lovers, strip poker!, f!reader/afab reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors (proofread this one between weird times), I think that's it!

Word Count: 4,025 how did I do that???

The house is empty. Quiet. It’s so strange, almost eerie, but honestly welcome. You can’t remember the last time you were ever so alone. Not lonely—alone. Comfortably and peacefully alone. 

Scott, Jean, and Storm took most of the children off on an overnight camping trip, while Hank, Kurt, and Charles were on a mission with some of the older mutants. Rogue and Gambit were out somewhere, leaving you and Logan in the mansion alone. 

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, back to the window, looking out at the empty room. Everything is untouched—neatly put away. You know things will be back to normal by tomorrow afternoon—dishes in the sink, shoes all over the floor, kids shouting down the halls. But for now, there’s nothing. No disruptions. No—

“Oh, hey,” Logan mumbles, stepping through the doorway and into the kitchen. “Didn’t know you were in here.”

You smile, trying your best not to let your eyes flit up and down his body. He’s wearing one of his tight beaters and a pair of jeans. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him—if you said that being alone in the mansion with him wasn’t somewhat overwhelming. You’ve wanted Logan since the day you joined the X-Men, just a few months ago. And while you’ve become close friends, you know it’ll never progress further than that. 

“Wanna join me?” You ask, tilting your head to the chair across from you. 

Logan smirks and nods. He walks to the fridge, swings open the French doors, and reaches inside. “Got something for us, actually,” he says, glasses clinking as he rummages through the fridge. He pulls out whatever he’s looking for, turning around, and revealing a 6-pack of beer. 

“No way!” You shout excitedly. “Logan Howlett, breaking the rules as always.”

He sits down across from you, placing the beers in the center of the table. “You know you love it,” he husks, grinning widely. 

You can feel the heat rising to your chest. He’s right. “I do,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t catch on to the implications of your words. If he does, he doesn’t show it. He grabs a beer by its neck, pops off the cap with ease, and holds the bottle out towards you. Your fingers brush his as you take the beer from him, his hands warm and surprisingly soft. The contact is fleeting, effervescent. You wish he could touch you again. 

You bring the bottle to your lips, the cold beer a distraction from your all-too-hot thoughts. You watch as Logan pulls a bottle for himself, his muscles flexing as he removes the cap. He brings the bottle to his mouth and knocks it back, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

“So…” You trail off, doing your all to ignore the way his tongue swipes across his upper lip as he places the beer back down on the table. You take another swig of your beer, ready to down the entire thing just to give yourself the confidence to say something. “D-did you wanna do anything?” You take another big gulp. 

Logan smiles. “Not sure,” he says, taking a sip. “You got anything in mind, princess?”

Your heart flutters at the familiar nickname. You rub a finger up and down the beer bottle, streaking the condensation. “We could play a game,” you offer, your eyes finding his. “Cards?”

Logan hums in affirmation as he knocks his beer bottle back again. He’s already practically finished. “You wanna play Blackjack?” He asks, taking a final sip before standing up and walking over to the kitchen island. He rifles through a couple of drawers before finding a pack of cards. He sits back down across from you, grabbing another beer and cracking it open. 

“Sure,” you answer, watching as Logan slips the cards from their box and expertly shuffles them. He thumbs the cards, dexterously letting them slide through his long fingers. He deals you the first card, face up, and then does the same for himself. You have a king of hearts, and Logan has a five of diamonds. He deals again, and you’re given a nine of clubs. It’s a good hand. Better than Logan’s, so far. He deals himself another card, looking at it briefly before putting it face down on the table. 

He smirks up at you. “Hit, or stay?” He asks.

You roll your eyes. “Stay, obviously.” He shakes his head, smiling as he deals himself another card. 

“Well, princess,” he says, showing you all three of his cards now. Five of diamonds, queen of hearts, and six of spades. “Looks like I won.” He’s smug as he grabs your cards and shuffles them back into the deck. 

You scoff and let him deal you in again.

You’ve only had two drinks, but there’s something about being with Logan that makes you feel like you’re drunk. You’ve been playing Blackjack for almost forty-five minutes now, round after round. Despite this being a game of chance, it seems like Logan wins far more often than you do. 

And yet, something gives you the sudden confidence to up the ante. 

“Lo?” You ask, taking a swig of your third beer, now. He looks up at you and hums, dealing the next round. You lean across the table. “What if we…” you trail off. “Made this more exciting?” 

Logan looks across the table under hooded eyes. You can sense the sudden shift in his expression, and you know he can sense the suggestiveness in your voice. The corner of his mouth turns up—a sly, half smile. “Exciting how, princess?”

You’re nervous now—all talk and no action. “Maybe we could bet somehow?” You offer, but Logan knows that’s not truly what you mean. He cocks his head, eyes narrowing.

And then he says exactly what you’re thinking—as if he can read your mind. “What about strip poker?” 

Your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. Logan is focused on you, still folding the cards into each other. You finally nod your head. “Sure, sounds fun.” 

Logan quickly deals the first cards. You have an ace, and Logan has a ten of diamonds. He places another card down for you—seven of clubs—and another face down for himself. 

“Hit or stay?” He asks, his eyes set on yours. He’s leaning closer to you than he was before. 

You take a deep breath. “Stay,” you answer, your voice trembling ever so slightly now. 

Logan shakes his head. “Wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” he says, flipping over his second card. It’s an ace of hearts. He collects your cards without another word, but his eyes are still glued to you. 

You bite your lip nervously and decide to tug away your sweatshirt. You’re wearing a thin tank top underneath, much to your relief. Logan’s eyes flit up and down your body, drinking you in. 

You drape the sweatshirt across the back of your chair, your eyes narrowing in Logan’s direction. “You have to be cheating,” you accuse sarcastically.

Logan grins ear to ear as he deals again, looking down at the table. “Just lucky,” he says, the words stopping your heart. “Very lucky.” He looks back up at you. Your breath catches in your throat. 

There’s a four of hearts in front of you this time. You roll your eyes at the low card. Logan—naturally—has a jack of diamonds. He places another card in front of you, a nine of clubs, and another face down for himself.

“Hit,” you mutter before he can ask the question. He places a seven of diamonds in front of you and shakes his head. He reveals his other card: an eight of spades. You smile widely, self-satisfied as you grab your beer by the neck and take a long swig. You lean back in your chair, watching as Logan pulls his beater up and over his head. 

He’s perfect, you think to yourself. Sure, he’s all chiseled abs and muscles, but he truly is beautiful. And you hope he knows it. “Happy now?” He asks, dealing the next hand. 

Heat spreads across your chest and down to your stomach. Your clothes feel tight, itchy. You try your best to ignore the way Logan makes you feel—to ignore the way you long to press your thighs together for some sort of friction. You—very obviously—are failing horrifically. 

“Hit, or stay?” Logan asks. You’re so distracted by him that you completely missed the deal. You look down to see an eight of hearts and a six of diamonds. Logan has a king of spades face up, and his other card face down. 

You raise your eyebrows, mulling it over in your mind. “Hit,” you finally spit out, and Logan deals you a ten of clubs. 

Oh. 

“Well shit,” you mumble. Logan chuckles as you stand up, struggling to decide what to take off. You look down at your athletic shorts and decide those are the next to go. You slip them down your legs and place them on the back of the chair with your sweatshirt. 

Logan’s throat bobs as his eyes trail up and down your legs. He isn’t laughing anymore; there’s something serious in his eyes, something dark. He works his jaw as you sit back down across from him. He looks pained as he deals the next hand. 

You cock your head to the side as he places a queen of hearts in front of you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“’M’fine,” he answers curtly, drawing an ace of diamonds for himself. He quickly places another card down for you—a five of spades—and another face down for him. 

But you can tell there’s something wrong. It’s the way he moves, the way he fidgets in his seat. You reach out tentatively across the table, your fingers brushing against his. “Logan,” you soothe. “We don’t have to play if you don’t want to.” 

His eyes find yours, and he smiles softly, looking at your cards and then flipping his over. He got it. Twenty-one. Blackjack. “I think this game is almost over,” he says, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

You roll your eyes and grab the hem of your tank top, slowly pulling it up your body and over your head. Now all that’s left is your sports bra and your panties. You look across the table, and there’s Logan, eyes locked on you. “One more round?” You ask. 

But he ignores you, pushing out his chair, standing up, and walking over to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I think we’re done with the game.” He pulls your chair out from the table and leans down over you, placing his hands on either armrest, caging you in. 

His eyes are dark and filled with lust, his lips just centimeters from yours. Your noses brush, his breath fanning across your cheeks. You can smell him—the pine and musk and tobacco, his shampoo, a hint of mint. 

“L-Lo,” you stutter, your heart beating out of your chest as he leans in closer. There’s something animalistic, something primal about the look in his eyes. 

“I know you want me, pretty girl,” he husks. “Could smell that pussy crying for me before you even took those little shorts off.” 

“I-I,” you stutter, unable to form a coherent thought, no less a sentence. Your thighs rub together involuntarily at Logan’s words, searching for friction, for relief. 

Logan chuckles darkly. “Yeah,” he hums, one hand dropping from the armrest and slipping in between your thighs. “That’s what I thought, princess.” 

He pushes your legs open, his fingertips trailing along your inner thigh, slowly climbing higher. He finally reaches your heat and two of his fingers drag teasingly through your clothed folds, up to your clit. “Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked,” Logan growls, stroking you through your panties. “Making a mess of the chair, hm?”

“Logan,” you whine, his fingers circling your clit and then pulling away. Before you can protest the loss of contact, he’s hoisting you up and out of the chair, his hands squeezing your ass, holding you tightly in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist and bring your hands to the nape of his neck.

He carries you through the kitchen and into the hallway. He stops in his tracks and pushes your back against the wall, his lips finally finding yours. The kiss is rushed and frantic, like he just has to have you now, like he’s so hungry he’d die if he waited another second. He grinds his hips into yours, his erection straining through his jeans. 

“Need you, darlin’,” Logan mumbles against your lips, his chest heaving in time with yours. “Needed you this whole time.” He finally steps away from the wall and heads towards the stairs. You thread your fingers through Logan’s hair as he bites your lower lip, your pulse point, kissing you anywhere he can as he walks up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

He closes the door with a kick, and strides over to the bed in the center of the room, placing you down in the middle and crawling over you. His lips find yours again, his tongue darting out and sliding over your bottom lip, silently asking to be let inside. How could you ever say no? How could you ever not give him whatever it is he wants?

Logan balances on his forearm as his free hand trails up your body, warm and soft and soothing. He finds the hem of your bra and pulls the fabric over your tits. You arch your back, helping him slip it off the rest of the way. He finds your breasts, massaging gently before teasingly rolling your nipple under his thumb. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he huffs, moving to your other breast, pawing at the flesh, rolling over your nipple again, pinching lightly. His knee is settled between your legs, keeping you spread open for him. Your hips involuntarily rock against him, your needy core sliding up and down his thigh, searching for relief. 

Logan smiles against your lips and swallows your moans with a kiss before his touch suddenly disappears. His knee is no longer between your legs—the delicious friction gone. Your eyes flutter open and closed as he crawls down your body, kissing his way to the hem of your panties. 

“Lo,” you whimper as he places a chaste kiss to your clothed clit. “Please,” you beg, squirming underneath him. 

His arm latches around your waist, holding you down to the mattress while his other hand hooks inside the waistband of your panties. He tugs teasingly, taking his time as he slides your panties down your legs and tosses them off to the side. Logan settles himself between your thighs, his breath fanning against your cunt.

His arm is still firmly pushing you down into the mattress as he brings his face closer to where you need him most. “Wanna taste this pretty pussy, darlin’,” Logan grunts, and his tongue swipes through your folds, dragging across your slit and up to your clit. 

You curse under your breath as Logan licks another long stripe, his tongue finishing with a flick to your clit. “So fucking sweet,” Logan murmurs against you, the bass and vibration of his voice sending a burst of pleasure up your spine. “Knew you’d taste so good, pretty girl.” 

Logan pulls you closer to him, burying his face into your cunt like a man starved. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly. His fingertips slide up your inner thigh, drawing higher and higher until he finds your folds. 

“Such a fucking tease,” Logan mutters, spreading your slick, prodding your entrance. “Using cards as an excuse to take your clothes off for me.” He shoves two fingers deep inside you as his tongue circles your clit. “Wanted me that bad, huh?” You can feel him smiling against you, all smug as he pulls his fingers from your slit and plunges back in. 

“Y-yes,” you stutter. His grip is like iron across your hips, keeping you in place, stopping you from squirming. “Wanted y-you so fucking bad.” 

He pumps his fingers in and out, down to the knuckles as he laps at you. He sucks at your clit again, harder this time. “I know, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, his thumb rubbing against your hip as his thrusts become faster, deeper. You’re already shaking underneath him—a trembling mess. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he coos. 

His tongue flicks your clit, swirling around the bud, adding more pressure with every stroke. Your walls flutter around his fingers, taking him in deeper. “Logan,” you whine, growing closer with every pump. “I-I—”

You’re cut off as he adds a third finger. “That what you needed, princess?” Logan asks, all cocky and self-assured. Your back arches off the mattress and Logan tightens his grip on your hips, holding you down as he devours you. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”

Your muscles clench around him at the words. His teeth graze lightly against your clit as he pulls the bud into his mouth, sucking roughly. “Lo…” You trail off, unable to use any semblance of language to communicate the way he’s making you feel. 

“Taking me so good, darlin’,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you unrelentingly. “Such a good fucking girl.” 

You’re so close, almost at that edge, pleasure burning through your every nerve ending. “’L-Lo I’m so—” you choke out.

“So fucked out that all you can say is my name,” Logan teases, sucking on your clit between sentences. “Wanna feel you come around my fingers.” He pushes himself in deeper. “Wanna taste it.”

“F-fuck,” you stutter, contracting around him uncontrollably. The tension building in your stomach finally snaps, the fire set free to burn through your body. “Logan!” You cry out, chanting his name like it’s a sacred prayer. And maybe it is.  

“I’ve got you,” Logan soothes, his tongue still lapping at you, his fingers still thrusting in and out. “I’m right here, let go for me.” He works you through your orgasm, his pumps slowing down as you ride out your high.

He pulls his fingers from your cunt, but his face doesn’t move. He’s still lapping at you, his tongue swiping through your folds, your slit, up to your clit. He’s drinking you in, savoring the taste of you. 

“Lo,” you whimper, running your hands through his hair, trying to guide him up your body. But he doesn’t budge. He grunts against your core, his tongue dragging through your heat. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

He licks one more long stripe through your folds before finally lifting his head to look up at you. Your release is painted across his lips, glistening in the moonlight. His tongue darts out, licking away the proof of your orgasm. 

“Need me, sweetheart?” He asks, sitting up, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the floor with a clink. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls his zipper down. “Need me to fuck you?” You nod, settling into the pillows at his headboard as he tugs his jeans and boxers down his legs. 

His cock springs free, bouncing against his stomach. You swallow nervously at the size of him. He settles on top of you, balancing on his forearm as he guides his cock to your entrance. 

Logan presses a chaste kiss to your lips as his tip nudges through your folds. “Thought about this for a long time,” he murmurs, the head of his cock bumping against your clit before sliding back down towards your entrance. His lips meet yours again, more hurried and hungry this time. “Always thinking about you.” And then he buries himself deep inside you, down to the hilt. He stalls, unmoving, giving you a moment to adjust to the size of him. He’s stretching you out, working you open. You grab his biceps, searching for purchase. Nothing could have prepared you for this, for the way he fills you up and makes you feel whole. 

“Feels so fucking good,” Logan whispers, pulling out and pushing all the way back in. “So tight, so perfect,” he praises, slowly setting a rhythmic pace, pumping in and out. 

His hand leaves the base of his cock and slips between your bodies, finding your clit—still sensitive from your first orgasm. His thumb strokes soft circles into the bud, drawing a moan from your lips. 

“Y-yes,” you pant as Logan plunges into you, faster and deeper with each thrust. You can feel him throbbing inside you, his cock dragging against your walls. It’s already too much—already more than you can handle. “F-feels so good, Lo.”

His hips snap against yours. “I know it does, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you. “Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel good.” His words go straight to your core, your muscles contracting around him. He curses under his breath at the feeling, your pussy taking him deeper as he sinks inside you. “Squeezing me already, sweetheart.”

He’s fucking into you, his pace growing reckless and punishing. He adds more pressure to your clit, rubbing harder, faster. You don’t know how much longer you’ll last, not with his lips at the shell of your ear whispering praises. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he husks, his hips rocking against yours. “Taking me so good, doing so well for me.” He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. He swallows your moans with starving, desperate, needy kisses—biting your lips, bruising them. He’s consuming you, taking everything you have to give him. 

He presses his forehead to yours, pounding into you, somehow finding a way to sink deeper inside. Your walls flutter around him, and you know you’re almost there. “Logan,” you croak, pushing your hips into his. 

“F-fuck,” he stammers, his cock twitching inside you, massaging your inner walls. “I know princess, know you’re close.” You can feel his thrusts faltering, growing sloppier. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, pretty girl.” You moan his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, keeping him close as he pumps in and out. “Come for me, darlin’.”

Logan pinches your clit and buries himself deep inside, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you, your walls clenching around him, squeezing him tighter. “Stay,” you whisper, and he knows what you mean—knows exactly what you’re asking for.

He curses under his breath and his head falls to your shoulder as he comes undone, too, filling you up, spilling inside you. Everything is liquid heat. Your muscles contract and relax, your shoulders melting into the mattress. Everything feels hazy as Logan gently strokes your clit, thrusting in and out of you slowly, riding out your orgasms. 

He finally pulls out, wrapping his arms around your back and rolling you over so that you lay on top of his chest. He holds you close, his fingers trailing up and down your back. He kisses the crown of your head. “You okay?” He whispers into the silence of the room. 

“Yeah,” you answer, burying your face into his chest. “’M’perfect.”

He presses another kiss to the top of your head. “Wanted you for so long, princess,” he husks, his voice deep and raspy. 

“Wanted you, too, Lo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

You can hear his heart beating; can hear every breath he takes. You can even hear the smile in his voice. “You have a terrible poker face, you know.”

You laugh softly, lifting your head from his chest. “I think it’s just fine, thank you very much.” He’s smiling down at you, his hair a mess, sweat still on his brow. He’s perfect. So fucking perfect. “And besides, you’re the one who suggested strip poker.”

He shakes his head, tugging you back down to his chest. “Should’ve played it sooner.” You can feel his chuckle reverberate through his lungs. “We can play again if you want…”“…but this time we skip the poker part.”

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

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Little perv | Stucky

Co-Written with @lanabuckybarnes

// Pairing //

Stepbrother!Bucky Barnes x Stepsister!Reader x BestFriend!Steve Rogers

// Summary //

You didn’t mean to walk into Steve but when you do and he tells your stepbrother about it, they will teach you a lesson how to be a good girl.

// Wordcount //

4.956 Words

// Warnings //

18+, Minors DNI, dubcon, stepcest, smut, threesome, both boys are dicks and cute, they are both huge, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (male!receiving), deep throating, choking, crying during sex, degrading, unprotected p in v, anal play, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, spitting, slapping, praises, pet names (sweetheart, babygirl), aftercare

// Authors Note //

This oneshot is co-written with @lanabuckybarnes, I wanna say thank you bbg, for listening to all the ideas, coming up with your own ideas. And especially for helping me to write it while I freaked out. This wouldn’t be as filthy and it wouldn’t even exist with your help, so thanks for writing this together with me.

// Events //

Build-A-Bucky-Bingo | BABB055 | December | Sensory Play | @buckybarnesevents | LGBTQ+ Bingo | G4 | Bisexual Threesome | @lgbtqbingo | Stucky Bingo: Round 5 | 5089 | B2 | Kink: Double Penetration | @stuckybingo

// Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist //

You groaned as you heard the shower running; your body was aching and you were in dire need of the relaxing feel of the water over your body—low and behold just as you’d grabbed your towels Bucky’s friend Steve had stolen the shower from you.

To say you were irritated was an understatement, you’d been dealing with shit like this ever since your dad’s new girlfriend moved in with her man-child son. Bucky was the quarterback of your college football team, a complete catch for any stupid girl silly enough to believe his charming eyes and wicked tongue, which you found out was quite a lot of girls; almost every weekend he’d hop out to a party and either come home reeking of sex and booze or with a girl clung to his hip, sucking dark marks into his thick neck as his large hands ran over her body— they would barely make it into his bedroom before she was moaning like a pornstar and he was growling like a fucking animal.

You suspected all that fucking booze and constant bashing into other burly men had gotten to his brain because he had a teasing, arrogant, don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that rolled off his body in waves. And by god did he love making you squirm.

The first time it happened you brushed it off, after all, he was probably so used to walking around in only his sweatpants; they hung low, the waistband of his briefs easily visible, accentuating his Adonis belt and soft happy trail that sunk below his pants.

You thought you’d stopped your gawking quick enough but Bucky had caught you—and you were in for it now.

Ever since that day Bucky had been more relaxed in the clothing department when he was around you, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a shirt around you; his corded muscles rippling under his tanned skin, biceps bigger than your head bulging as he brought his water bottle up to his plush lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down the cold liquid. He tried his best to bite back the shit-eating grin threatening to plaster over his face as he shuffled by you, tall frame looming over you, your ass rubbing against the front of his sweats ‘accidentally’. After a quick glance your way the smile broke free, you’d stopped stirring your tea, head dipped to hide your reddened face behind your locks of hair but no amount of effort could wipe the mortification you felt and Bucky was loving it.

And now he’d even roped his friend into this absurdity.

Noting that the shower had finally stopped you gathered your towels and other toiletries in your arms and shuffled down the hall, bare feet slapping against the hardwood as you walked. Bucky’s room door lay adjacent, shooting noises and cursing flowing through the crack as he played whatever goddamn game that had him up at 4am most nights.

You were so distracted by Bucky you neglected to knock on the bathroom door to make sure it was well and truly empty.

“Well, what do we have here?” Steve’s cocky voice broke you from your trance, his hair pushed back and a towel hung low on his hips showing off his washboard-like abs; he wasn’t as wide as Bucky but definitely just as built. His blue eyes watched you from the mirror above the sink.

Your mouth gaped and shut like a fish out of water as you stuttered over your words, your brain shutting down at the worst possible time ‘Stupid fucking brain’.

“Never knew Buck's new step sis was such a fucking perv” he turned, hand gripping the waist of his towel as he stalked forward until you stumbled over your own feet, your items falling as you reached out instinctively to grab at something close to you— unfortunately that happened to be Steve’s towel.

“Wow! Tryna strip me now huh?” He chuckled, thick fingers gripping your wrist, his towel remaining in place thanks to his earlier hold.

“No-I” you tried to speak but his stormy eyes shot you down quickly.

“Sureee” he smirked, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek “We’ll see what Bucky has to say about this” he finished and before you could react he’d dragged your body down the hall and into Bucky’s room.

“I—I don’t think Bucky wants to know anything about it. And I— uhm I’m it was an accident to walk into the bathroom while you are still in here,” you mumbled, every thought washed out of your mind.

Steve chuckled, pushing you away from him causing you to stumble through the room until you were standing in the middle of it, facing Bucky with widened eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know your sister is such a perv, Buck. Came into the bathroom and when I asked her about it she wanted to take away the towel around my waist,” the blonde-haired man laughed. He walked closer to you, his hands gripping your waist before he pushed you closer to Bucky who was sitting on the bed.

Bucky’s legs were dangling down off the edge of it, he smirked at you with that shitty knowing and arrogant smirk. You blushed softly when he held his hands out for you to grab, when you didn’t take his hands Steve pushed you closer until Bucky was able to grasp at you and pull you closer to him.

“Are you that much of a needy girl?” Bucky cooed, pulling you down until you were seated on his thigh. His thick muscles were pressing perfectly against your throbbing cunt and you couldn’t help yourself, your hips slowly grinding you on his leg. “Oh, you really are a needy little whore, say it, babygirl, tell us that you’re such a horny little bitch for us.”

You whimpered, his thick thigh pressed against your pussy was too much for you to think straight. Bucky laughed darkly, his hands making their way to your waist and he helped you to grind on him.

“Stevie, look how fucking desperate she is, such a fucking whore for us. Say it, babygirl! Say it!” Bucky said in a stern tone. When you still didn’t answer his demands he stopped your movements. You whined, throwing your head back and hitting Steve’s lower stomach. You didn’t even realize he was so close to you but your head was resting against him now. “Fucking say it, bitch.”

“I—“ you cried out when Steve grasped your throat, his fingers were digging into your soft flesh and your eyes widened immediately. He didn’t let go of your throat, his fingers were digging more into your soft skin and you gasped. “I’m a whore for you.”

Both men chuckled, Steve loosened his grip and you inhaled deeply. Bucky still didn’t let you move on his thigh, he was looking up at Steve, nodding towards him and before you could have asked something you were turned around and tossed onto Bucky’s bed.

“Good girl, now ask daddy to let you suck his cock,” the brunette smirked, he was now standing next to Steve, both admiring you shamelessly. It felt a bit like you were nothing but a piece of meat for them, and maybe you were right now.

You didn’t answer him, your eyes just looking at them while you were placed on your back. “Think she wants to be punished, what do you think, Buck?”

A low groan left Bucky’s lips, he placed his hands on the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them slowly down. Your eyes wander over his toned chest and abs to his hands which were going to reveal his hardening cock. Steve was making his way around the bed, one of his hands on his cock, palming himself and feeling himself getting harder underneath the towel.

Bucky pushed his sweatpants down eventually, his boxer briefs following and his cock sprung free. The tip was red, leaking with pre-cum and you whimpered once more. Your mind was too dizzy to care what both men were going to do with you, you just needed them, needing them to help the ache in your pussy.

“Open your mouth and suck daddy’s cock like the fucking little whore you are,” Bucky groaned, walking a step closer. He lowered himself slightly, his hand tapped your cheek lightly and you did as you were told. With a grunt he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately thrusting forward when the warmth of your mouth surrounded his cock. Bucky couldn’t — he didn’t want to hold back his thrusts, he wanted you to take him completely into your sweet little mouth.

Steve who had settled on the bed, spread your legs apart, he’d taken off your pants already, the only fabric between him and your pussy was the thin sopping material of your panties. Steve ran his fingers up and down your inner thigh, inching closer to your soaked pussy. “Fucking soaked, making a mess in her panties.”

You moaned in response, Bucky’s cock moved in and out of your mouth, causing you to gag around his length. He didn’t care how much you sputtered and pushed his cock deeper into you, tears were streaming over your face and you quietly sobbed when he hit the back of your mouth over and over again.

Steve’s fingers were now circling your pussy, the fabric still covering your wetness but the intensity of his movements made you go crazy. He pinched your clit through your panties and you tried to move away from him but he held you in place. Steve then slipped his fingers under your panties, before deciding it wasn’t good enough and ripping the fabric into two pieces and throwing them away.

Any type of protest was muffled by Bucky’s cock, his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue and you hummed your satisfaction. “Yeah, that’s what you like, huh? Fucking desperate slut needs to be punished for your being so needy.”

Bucky guided his cock in and out of your mouth, loving the way your tears fell down your cheeks while he hit your throat with every push of his cock into your mouth. He groaned, his hand making its way around your throat and he squeezed your soft flesh slightly. Your eyes shot open, terror written in the color when he squeezed more and more.

You wiggled, trying to pull away from him but your stepbrother held you in place. He beamed down at you, then he loosened his grip around your throat and removed his cock, giving you a moment to breathe deeply. With a rough laugh he brought his hand to your jaw, and with a bit of pressure he made you open your mouth. Bucky was then spitting into your mouth, looking at the way you involuntarily swallowed his saliva.

“Fuck, you little bitch. You’re so fucking desperate, swallowing my spit like you’re gonna do with my cum,” he groaned, placing his cock back in your mouth, thrusting harshly and fast in and out of you.

Steve worked one of his fingers into your tight cunt, his fingers were moving between your folds for a while, gathering your arousal. But now he just needed to stretch out so he would be able to fit his huge, veiny cock into you. “You’re so fucking tight. Bucky didn’t know your little stepsis felt like a virgin.”

“Oh don’t worry, she might’ve not fucked a boy yet but I know she fucked herself, haven’t you, babygirl?” Bucky cooed. Steve chuckled, removing his finger before he was pressing his finger against your entrance once again. His thick finger entered you and he immediately pushed another finger into you, causing you to moan loudly — or at least as loud as possible with your stepbrother's cock down your throat. “Have heard you moaning my name like a desperate slut, fucking yourself with your small fingers, not even comparable to my cock, babygirl.”

You moaned around his huge length. Steve curled both of his fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. The attempt to throw your head back was stopped by the bed and you only arched your back, pressing more against the blonde-haired man’s fingers.

“Don’t you dare to cum you fucking whore,” Bucky growled, his hand back around your throat and squeezing once again. Your eyes rolled back, pleasure growing inside of you especially when you felt Bucky’s cock twitch in your mouth, his balls slapping against your face.

You whined when Steve slipped his fingers out of your tight entrance, pushing one of his digits back into you so he felt you clench around him. “So tight, sweetheart. Can’t wait to fill you with my cock.”

Before you could respond in any way Bucky removed his cock, smirking at Steve like he got the best idea he could ever get into his mind. His tongue was poking out, gliding across his lips when he took a step back and grasped your hair, causing you to hiss. Bucky made you sit up, your front to Steve while your back was towards Bucky.

“Take off your shirt, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty tits, poor things, hidden by your clothes,” Steve mumbled, sitting on his knees in front of you. Your hands shook when you brought them to the hem of your shirt, slowly taking it off and revealing your bare body to the men.

Steve’s hands immediately reached out to place them on top of your breast, squeezing the soft flesh. A low moan escaped his lips the moment he saw your lips parting and a quiet moan leaving your perfect, pink lips. He played with your nipples, twirling them between his fingers until you were nothing but a whimpering and moaning mess.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart. Be a good girl, huh?” You moved a bit, getting on your knees and giving Steve better access between your wet folds. Bucky undresses himself as well, getting on the bed behind you, his big hands caressing your smaller frame.

Bucky and Steve were huge compared to you, and you between them made you feel even smaller. Their hands were roaming over your body, arousal was dripping out of your cunt, slowly wetting your inner thighs. You squirmed slightly, you wanted them to touch you properly, you needed them to fuck you.

“Impatient, babygirl? Do you know that bad girls get punished?” Bucky whispered into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He kissed down your neck, biting into your flesh before he licked over it and kissed the spot. “Are you going to be good for us?”

You nodded your head, letting it fall back against Bucky’s shoulder. Steve stroked his cock slowly, his thumb brushed over his plush head and he groaned while he smeared his pre-cum all over his tip and shaft. He then got closer to you, his cock placed in between your legs and he pushed his hips forward. Steve was grinding his length through your folds, your pussy clenched around nothing while his rock-hard cock pressed against your clit and he brushed his cock over it with every movement.

“Doing so good, sweetheart. Do you want my cock?” He asked, grinning at you when you nodded. Your head was still resting against Bucky’s shoulder. Just a moment after you nodded Steve’s hand flew across your face. Your eyes widened and tears built up in them, slowly rolling down your cheeks. Steve’s handprint appeared on your cheek, red and burning. “Shhh— I’m sorry, sweetheart. But you need to use your words.”

Steve mumbled before he pressed his soft, plump lips against your burning cheek. You hissed, but Bucky’s broad body behind you held you in place. To make it up to you, Steve grasped his cock and pushed it slowly into you, his cock stretched you out and you whined.

“Too big, Steve. Please, too big,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes tight. Your hands gripped whatever was close to you, his thick shoulders. Your fingers were digging into his flesh when he bottomed out inside you.

“Doing so good for us. Fuck, you’re right, sweetheart. Could immediately come in your pussy, you’re squeezing me so much already,” the blonde-haired man said, smirking when he looked at you.

Steve gave you a moment to adjust to his size, playing with your nipples. He twirled them between his fingers, squeezed your breasts and sucked softly at your sensitive skin. His cock was resting deep in your pussy, walls clenched violently around him and he needed to focus to not come immediately inside of you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was looking for some lube in his drawer, squirting some of the cold liquid on his fingers. He then placed his fingers on your even tighter hole, smearing the lube around before he pushed one of his digits against your tight muscle ring. You shake your head, not sure if you want him to fuck your ass but when Steve slowly moved his cock you melted into their embrace and let Bucky work his finger into your puckered hole.

Whines and moans were all that left your lips, desperate and needy to be fucked like a slut — exactly what both men did, at least when you were prepared for Bucky’s cock in your ass.

Bucky pushed his digit into you, and you welcomed him immediately, sucking him deeper inside you. A low chuckle left his lips and he looked at his best friend. “Fucking slut is sucking my finger into her ass like she is made to be fucked. Like to be fucked by two men, huh?”

You didn’t answer, too deep into the pleasure both of them gave you. Steve’s cock was twitching in your tight pussy, the feeling of him in you, making you still feel like he would rip you apart and Bucky’s finger moving deeper into your ass before he added another didn’t help your fogged mind.

“B—Bucky, please. N—Need you.” You weren't sure what came over you, your pussy was already hurting with Steve’s cock inside but Bucky would ruin your ass. It would hurt a lot more would he push in especially when you’re not stretched out with his fingers, but the pleasure you felt was just too good to wait for him to work you open for his pretty but huge cock.

“He has to stretch your tight ass before he can push into you, sweetheart. We don’t want you to have too much pain when we fuck you, it’s not just about us, it’s also about you,” Steve told you, his hips slowly moving against yours but just so slightly that you could cry out frustrated. The tip of his head was hitting your sweet spot with every movement and you felt the knot in your belly already tightening but he stopped his movements once again.

Bucky worked three of his fingers into your ass, he scissored them, stretching you out for his cock. And then he pulled them out of you, smirking about the frustrated whine that left your lips. “Needy, aren’t we, babygirl?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the tip of his cock against your entrance. You wiggled your ass, trying to push against him but Steve grabbed your waist and held you in place.

Bucky grasped the lube once again, this time he squirted it onto his hard cock. Without warning he entered your puckered hole. Your eyes widened, your breath hitched and you felt the pain appear in your ass. This wasn’t quite comfortable, especially not with Steve’s cock pressing against the thin wall between his and Bucky’s cock inside of you.

“No— too—“ you got interrupted by another harsh slap but this time on your ass and Bucky was the one who brought his hand down against your skin.

“It will fit, we will make it fit and you will take us like the good fucking whore you are!” His voice was stern and not even Steve’s soft touches against your breasts and cheek didn’t help against the pain in your ass.

You nodded, letting him slide his dick inside of you. Both men were balls deep inside of you, giving you a moment to take a deep breath. It felt at the same time good and bad, you wanted to get off their cocks but at the same time, you needed them to fuck into you and destroy your holes in the most delicious way possible.

Steve was the first one who pulled out of you before he slammed his cock back into you. Bucky and his best friend were groaning just as loud as you moaned when Steve started to fuck you. Bucky followed his movements, and so you were kneeling between those broad men, two cocks inside of you while they slammed into you with such force.

The pain you felt quickly turned into pleasure and the desperate moans that left your lips showed that. Bucky was kissing along your neck, while Steve couldn’t stop himself any longer — his lips were pressing aggressively against yours but instead of pulling away you kissed him back.

The knot in your lower stomach was growing, their thick veiny cocks inside of you, stimulating your sweet spot and themselves made your mind go dizzy. “Please, please.”

“What do you need, babygirl? Do you want us to stop?” Bucky asked sweetly and you shook your head, lips parted when Steve used the moment to fuck even harder inside of you. The only sound that left your lips was a cry and your eyes rolled back. Bucky laughed, his hand sliding to your neck and he held it in a loose grip.

“Guess she wants us to make her come before we fill her up with our pretty babies,” Steve growled. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Fucking love that clenching pussy.”

Bucky hummed, agreeing with his best friend. Your walls were clenching around them and both could tell you were just as close as they were. With a harsh thrust from Bucky into your tight ass and a sloppy thrust into your pussy — which was still hitting your sweet spot — you came all over Steve’s cock. You were clenching around them painfully, sucking them even deeper into you while you squeezed them and it caused them to come inside of you.

Bucky’s hot breath hit the sweaty skin of your neck, and his grip around your throat tightens while he pumped his cum into your ass. Steve dug his fingers into your hips, rutting into you, groaning and throwing his head back.

“Fuck, so fucking tight. Take my cum, take my babies,” Steve moaned and you bit your lip when you thought about his words. Your mind was still dizzy and you could feel their heavy breaths on your skin, their sweaty body pressed against yours and their cum slowly dripping out of your holes.

“Taking our cum like a good little slut. Yeah, that’s what you are, our good slut. You look so beautiful when you come,” Bucky grinned and bit your neck slightly. Both were fucking you through your orgasm before they pulled out of you.

They had their hands still on your body, holding you in place while they watched your mixed cum dripping out of you and flowing down. Bucky dipped a finger into the mixture, bringing it to his mouth, and sucking on it before he repeated, only this time he held his finger in front of your mouth.

“Suck it clean, it tastes good. You taste so fucking good baby girl. Especially mixed with our cum,” he chuckled when you let him push his finger into your mouth, you sucked at it, moaning about the salty taste — it was delicious, and sucking Bucky’s finger was just as delicious as the cum.

You were so fucked out; so high on the aura of the room, both boys panting around you, trying to find a sliver of air around the sex-filled space.

“Fuck” Bucky groaned out as he stood from the bed, slightly pushing your form forward until you collapsed onto Steve’s awaiting body.

“There we are sweetheart you did so well, so good for us…took your punishment like a champ baby” Steve cooed, his thick fingers combing through your matted locks, separating the sweaty knots gently.

Bucky watched the pair as they settled against his headboard, smiling softly at just how fucked out you were, a bubbling mess on top of Steve and soaking up his praises like a sponge.

“Mmm Buck” you croaked out, eyes barely cracking open to watch the man as he slid a pair of briefs up over his legs before adjusting himself. His heart clenched at the sound of your raspy voice just barely forming any words, he wanted nothing more than to dive into the bed with you and Steve and snuggle close to you but he was well aware that you needed to be taken care of.

“I’ll be right with you babygirl ok” he squatted down to look at you, a soft smile pulling on his lips and wrinkling the corners of his eyes before he planted a soft kiss along the bridge of your glistening nose and disappeared into the bathroom.

When he returned Steve had pulled you up into his lap, his legs dangling off the bed as he spoke to you about nothing in particular, keeping you awake long enough for them to look after you.

“Come on sweet girl” Steve spoke smiling at the appearance of Bucky “Let’s get you all cleaned up”.

He stood; lifting you like you weighed nothing, a wide palm on your ass while his other cradled your waist making sure you didn’t slip from him, physically and mentally.

The warm sudded water was a welcoming touch, your muscles tensing as your lower body stung lightly but it quickly subsided into a soothing feeling that left your eyelids heavy. A groan sounded from behind you followed by the sloshing of water as someone settled in; his firm arms pulling you close until your back hit his soft chest.

“Still with us babygirl?” Bucky’s breath fanned against your ear as he leaned in close, his plush lips running from behind its shell to the nape of your neck.

You hummed, but the sound wasn’t enough for the boys. Steve leaned over the tub, his index finger curling under your chin and his thumb pulling at your lower lip.

“Come on sweetheart, use those words…you wouldn’t want poor Buck and me to worry all day about hurting you” he murmured, his thumb drifting over the soft pink of your mouth.

“Mm mm, you didn’t hurt me Stevie—just feeling too good and tired” you mustered, your brain still short-circuiting and swirling in that deep subspace.

“That’s ok baby as long as you’re feeling good” He leaned forward, kissing you gently before accepting the bottle of body wash and loofah Bucky held out to him.

“Gonna wash you up, that ok?” The blonde man asked, already squirting a heady amount of the sweet-smelling scent into the sponge.

“Uh huh” You responded meekly, suddenly the thought of Steve touching you all over so intimately had you feeling all shy—something that made Steve’s heart swell as he noticed the soft blush perching over your cheeks.

His hands worked softly, lifting each arm and scrubbing away the sweat and heavy scent of sex from you while Bucky took his time massaging over your hips and thighs, thumbs pushing into the tight knots.

You were almost completely unconscious by the time they’d deemed you clean; the water had gone cold and Steve had scrubbed the same spot on your tummy a thousand times yet none of you wanted to leave the loving coils of the other. Bucky broke first and brought you up with him as he stood, turning you and lifting you out before wrapping you in a huge fluffy towel. He scooped you up again and walked back down the hall to his room, leaving Steve to clean himself and the bathroom up.

“Shit” Bucky cursed, stopping suddenly in the middle of his room. Through all the fussing over you, he’d completely neglected the fact his sheets were covered in your combined juices.

You turned your heavy head to look over your shoulder, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you realised just what exactly had Bucky grumbling.

“It’s alright we can sleep in my bed” you whispered against his temple, lipsing the spot softly and earning a playful spank in return as he turned on his heel and down to the opposite end of the corridor to your room.

Bucky dried you off quickly, eager to get under the sheets and you in his arms; your soft giggles music to his ears as the fabric ran down your sides and over your breasts.

Finally, Bucky got his wish as he tucked you under your sheets and rounded the bed to the other side, his naked frame curling in beside you, his arm snaking over your waist and pulling your back into his front. Steve joined soon after and slipped into the bed in front of you, his hand running up your arm before cupping your cheek and kissing you softly.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better little girl tonight, can’t wait to do this more” he mumbled against your lips, paying no mind to the fact you’d drifted off to sleep as soon as he’d joined you and Bucky.

“Mhmm” Bucky agreed, blue eyes meeting the stormy colour of his friends “But next time I get her pussy” The growl in Bucky’s voice left no room for argument, but Steve only chuckled.

“Sure man, sure”

// Taglist //

@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @felicitylemon @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @sebastianstanisahotmf @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes

[calumfmu]

Baby, No Attachment

Reluctantly, you met Steve's eyes, that stupid smirk ever present on his lips as he drank you in. If you could melt into the floor at that moment, you absolutely would have, his stare burning into you, reminding you of that cool, summer evening you first met.

"Are we going to do this or not, Harrington?"

or; the 5 times Steve Harrington was an asshole to you, with the 1 time, he revealed his true self.

cw: 18+ mdni; smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, cream pie, squirting, angst (what's new), mean!Steve, Steve talking you through it once again, slight Eddie x reader, 13.7k+ words. (+ part two) (+part three)

The boy you knew as your neighbor was quiet, yet quick in your neighborhood. Always on the go, never home, only when his parents were gone did you see him moving behind the windows of the two story Harrington home. Girls were reoccurring, a different one every week, countless times you’d seen the flash of a different bra-clad blonde or brunette in between parted curtains.

He was known as Steve, King Steve, the enigma of a man you only knew personally through rumors floating through the halls of Hawkins High. His cocky ego shining through shitty friends, the closest you would know to the truth behind the rumors.

Your first interaction with him was quick, the silhouette of his body dropping from his window as he tried sneaking out for the umpteen time that week. You heard a low groan as he landed wrong, curses escaping his lips as he found his way to his feet.

You were leaning against the vineyard covered wall of your own backyard, watching him through the cracks in the wooden fence separating your properties. A cigarette lay in between your fingers, the heat of it reaching your fingers as it continued to burn in your grasp.

“You good there, Harrington?” You asked, taking a slow drag as you saw his mop of hair pop up over the fence. A grimace was covering his face, a bruise over his nose and right eye. That’s different.

“Yeah, yeah, just perfect,” he replied, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. He barely glanced at you, running his fingers through his mane, settling it back into place. He brushed off his shoulders, muttering curses under his breath as he smoothed his clothing. You stared at him, cocking your head as you took in the sight before you.

You hummed in response, exhaling smoke as he seemed irritated in the moment. He didn’t know what to say to you nor you to him, as it was the first conversation you ever had since you’ve moved next door. It had only been a few months, but he had been the only one you heard anyone speak about.

“Aren’t you a little too young for that?” He asked you, stretching a hand over the fence as he signaled for you to hand him the pack. He seemed like a concerned father figure in this moment, irritation crossing his features even further than they did previously.

Looking down at the box between your fingers, you shrugged, feeling the cool, summer wind hit your body. The sun was setting, the golden rays casting a halo around his perfectly set hair.

You crossed the small distance between houses, pressing your frame to the fence as you held eye contact. You saw his throat bob, gulp barely audible as you centered your ground. Placing a cigarette between his outstretched finger tips, you smiled at him.

“Never too young for a little fun, Harrington,” you muttered, tracing your eye line over the fresh bruises. The cigarette gets placed between his lips, damp red meeting the yellow toned paper.

Steve rolled his eyes at you, patting down his pockets as he searched for something.

“Light?” You questioned, waving your own cigarette in the air around you. His eyes followed the movement, another sigh escaping from him.

“Yeah, come on, sweetheart,” he mumbled, craning his neck over the fence as he awaited your next move.

Smirking, you leaned forward, pressing the burning end of yours to his unlit. Faces inches away from each other, he took a few quick breaths, his cigarette slowly being lit from your own as he guided his eyes over your features.

His deep brown eyes bore into your own, a dark bruise beginning to set right on the bone. Strange enough, he seemed pretty with it, the contrast of colors and tones bringing out flecks of amber hidden in the iris.

Pulling away, he took a deep breath, smoke filling his lungs as he draped his arms over the wooden boards.

“Haven’t seen you around much,” Steve said, fingers tapping out ash. You watched as it floated in the wind, slowly walking backwards until your back hit the brick wall you previously stood against.

“Can’t stop seeing you,” you replied, squinting as you gestured up to the second story of his house. He followed your point, noticing how his bedroom window was directly across from your own. A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You’ve been stalking me, princess?” He asked, tongue darting out to run across his exposed teeth. You flushed in your face.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me now,” he continued, parting his lips to take another puff of the tobacco. Grumbling, you hid the smile that was threatening to burst out at his flirtatious behavior.

You snubbed your cigarette out, Mary Jane pressing into the concrete as a small billow of tobacco smoke pooled around the leather.

“I’m just making conversation, Harrington. We are neighbors after all.”

He nodded, eyes trained on you as they roamed over the length of your body. Only suddenly now did you feel self conscious over the short plaid skirt you wore.

“Say,” he began, lip briefly being sucked in between his teeth. “Let’s just bypass all that, and you could get to know me more as a … friend. A close friend.”

Closing your eyes, you laughed aloud as your head hit the brick behind you. The rumors of this Steve were materializing right in front of you. You opened them, only to be met with Steve’s gaze, smirk on his lips and cigarette pressed against his bottom lip as he slightly covered his face.

“Is that what you’re gonna call it?”

Two could play at this game, you figured.

“9 pm? I know a real nice spot by the lake,” he winked, making an ‘okay’ gesture with his thumb and forefinger. “Ladies love it, or so I’ve heard.”

“Or so I’ve heard,” you mocked him, laughter bubbling out of you. He followed your laughter, chuckling low as the breeze picked up around you.

“I could show you a real nice time, sweethe-”

“Steven!”

His head suddenly turned towards his open window, a woman’s voice calling out to him from somewhere deep in the house. It sounded like Mrs. Harrington’s voice, the memory of it from moving day when your parents forced you to bring over that homemade cherry pie. The smirk dropped from his face as he took a quick hit from the cigarette before flicking it somewhere behind him.

“Gotta go, princess,” he ushered, running a hand over his hair. He backed away from the fence, turning to duck on the side of his house.

He made it a few steps before quickly returning to his previous spot.

“Don’t wait up,” he called out, causing your smile to falter slightly. You covered it up, hoping to go unnoticed by him. “I might be a while before coming back, so don’t get your hopes up, princess.”

And with that, Steve Harrington was gone. The only evidence that he had even been there were the sounds of his footsteps crunching the gravel and the faint start of his BMW in the distance.

It shouldn’t have hurt you as much as it did when you didn’t hear from him that night. 9 pm came, then 10, then 11, next thing you knew, it was past 1 am with your window cracked open. You didn’t know what you were waiting for, a rock thrown at the glass or a whisper from below or for him to even burst through the bedroom door, anything to signal that he was to be true in his words.

He had told you after all to not wait up for him, to not get your hopes up, so it wasn’t his fault that you were feeling the way you did.

It definitely shouldn’t have hurt that much when you woke up in the middle of the night, still in your clothes (that you definitely did not pick out for him), to the sounds of a girl giggling. You squinted at your alarm clock, noticing it was nearly 3 am, the only light filling the room from the moon shining in the sky.

You crept to your window, straining your eyes in the darkness to see Steve and another random blonde making out with a fever as his hands snuck beneath her top. Her back was turned to you as his mouth licked into her, only separating to pull her top over her head before pressing his mouth to her neck.

As his teeth grazed a spot on her skin, his eyes fluttered open, making eye contact with you. They seemed to light up, an upward quirk of his mouth.

You pulled your curtains shut, heart beating rapidly as you realized he had completely seen you watching him. His stalker joke earlier ran through your mind, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Fuck you, Harrington.

A few weeks had passed before your next interaction with Harrington boy, the summer hours ticking by slowly as you searched what to fill your days with. People watching in downtown became tiresome, the same groups of people making their errands around the same hours. The town was so mundane to you, atypical families with their 2-3 kids, the most action that had happened was a 12 year old stealing from the Mini-Mart on 3rd.

You refused to acquaint yourself with the people in town, finding the same interests in them something you would never have in common. That is, until Eddie Munson came around. Town freak, ostracized by many, quirky, over dramatic, seemed like a theatre kid despite never stepping on stage a day in his life.

He did his thing, sold whatever to whoever, while you sat in his van and looked pretty, listening to the rock music he was so drawn to. You didn't have much in common, but you really didn't need to. What brought you two together was the fact that Hawkins did not really accept either of you. You were still the new girl who had transferred at the end of junior year, and he was the super senior, one that did not seem like he was leaving Hawkins High anytime soon.

You sat in the front seat of his van, feet up on the dash, hands resting up by your head as you reclined low in the seat. He drove recklessly, barely paying attention to the road as his fist came up to bang at the stereo, music skipping periodically.

"Come on, man," Eddie muttered, cursing low under his breath.

You laughed at him, shaking your head at his antics, a thing you had gotten used to during the last few weeks. Trees flew past you as he made his way down winding roads, blurs of greens and yellows barely visible. The roads grew familiar, the route he normally would take when he was bringing you home at 4 am.

Squinting, you sat up in your seat, bringing your feet off of the dash.

"Where are you going, Munson?" A familiar building past you, next thing you knew, he was pulling up on your street. He flashed a wicked grin your direction as he threw the van in park, your house in the near, yet far distance. "I'm serious, Eddie."

"I'm making a special delivery," he winked at you, eyes wide as he reached towards his black aluminum tin. Glancing out of the window, you searched for any sort of noise, normally used to the 'special deliveries' being towards parties.

"Here?"

He gave you a 'mhm' in response, hoping out of the van as he made his way towards your house. You sat in shock, mouth dropped open in confusion as he swiveled around, waving his arms at you as you sat frozen.

"You coming or not, Yn?" He shouted, causing you to scramble out and shush him. Whether or not you were ostracized by the town or not, you had a profile to keep up. Rumors of hanging out with him were one thing, but being seen on one of his deals was another.

You jogged to catch up to him, arms crossing over your chest. Glancing down at your outfit, you realized what an odd pair the two of you made. Eddie, in his black ripped jeans, leather jacket and jean vest. You, in your mini skirt, maroon colored Mary Janes over socked feet, and cream sweater, cut off right below your elbows.

"I swear if you're delivering to my little brother, Eddie, I will kill you," you muttered, shaking your head as you struggled to keep up with his long legs. He cackled at you, shaking his head as the two of you continued on the trek to the house.

Your porch light was on, mirroring Steve's house next to it. There was no way your brother was that bold with your parents car in the driveway.

"Try again, Skipper," Eddie mocked you, finding humour in the way you often had to practically skip to keep up with him. You continued following him, jaw dropping as he walked over the Harrington lawn, converse scuffing over the tiled walkway.

"Oh, there's no way, Munson," you protested, shaking your head vehemently as his hand rose to knock at the door. He furrowed his brow at you, stopping his hand in his tracks as he stared, confused at your apprehension. You dropped your voice to a whisper. "I'm not going in there!"

"What's the big deal?" He dropped his voice to match your volume, glancing around him as if he was expecting someone to be eavesdropping.

"I just- I can't do it," you muttered, stepping closer towards him. Your voice was barely audible at this point, "Steve's in there."

His mouth was parted as his features were drawn up. His fist was inches away from the door about to knock, and pure confusion was written all over him.

"What?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes, "I said, Steve's in there." A red flush covered your cheeks as you dropped your gaze.

"And why are you being weird about it?" He asked, knuckles rapping at the door quickly as you yelped. Before you could make a run for it, the double doors swung open, the devil himself making an appearance. You turned around quickly, turning your back to him before he could meet your eyes.

"Munson." You heard Steve greet him, Eddie humming in response as you felt like disappearing. "Oh, hey there, princess."

"Princess?" Both you and Eddie spoke at the same time, nerves present in your voice and disgust in his. You turned around on your heel, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as Eddie glanced in between the two of you.

Reluctantly, you met Steve's eyes, that stupid smirk ever present on his lips as he drank you in. If you could melt into the floor at that moment, you absolutely would have, his stare burning into you, reminding you of that cool, summer evening you first met.

Opening your mouth to reply, you couldn't help, but immediately close it, losing all words to say. You noticed how his bruises had healed, revealing perfect skin and those big, brown eyes.

"Are we going to do this or not, Harrington?" Eddie's patience had run thin, voice irritated as he shook the tin in his hands. The contents made a loud noise, breaking up the tension in the air between the two of you. Steve rolled his eyes, cutting his gaze to the long haired teenager.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Munson," he muttered, stepping aside to let the two of you in. Following Eddie, you walked in, high on his heels. Hearing the giant door shut behind you, you took a look at the house, it being much bigger than your own upon entry. You and Eddie followed Steve as he made his way into the living room, a small group of teenagers you recognized sitting in various spots around the room.

"Party's here!" Steve joked, urging a crowd of cheers from them. As Eddie went to make his deals with the other teenagers, you found yourself standing in the corner of the room, hands clasped in front of you as you were unsure of what to do.

That was the difference between you and Eddie, while you were both awkward and quiet, Eddie had a way of being himself through and through. He could blend into any social situation, his loudness faking confidence that allowed people to either love or hate him. You preferred silence and politeness, normally standing in the background of your parents in their social gatherings.

"Didn't take you for a drug dealer, sweetheart," you heard Steve's voice behind you, causing you to jump where you stood, heart racing in surprise. He laughed, hand coming up to rest at your shoulder. "No need to be nervous, 's just me."

You glanced down at his hand, noticing the way it fell to his side the second your gaze landed upon it.

"I'm not," you answered, taking a small step back as this man was so deep in your personal space. "I'm just friends with Eddie."

"Hmm," a thick hand came up to scratch at his chin, and you couldn't help, but watch it as his fingers stretched out. A watch covered his wrist, the metal stretching over skin as a few loose hairs poked out from beneath his sweater. "Never knew the freak's first name."

Rolling your eyes, you turned towards Eddie, watching as he sat there flirting with a blonde girl. She was recognized as a cheerleader, her high ponytail swinging as she cocked her head, laughing at one of his jokes.

"Yeah, well, his name's Eddie, so..."

You didn't know what to say to this man, your last conversation flowing through your recent memory. His empty promise of hanging out with you that day sat in the forefront of your mind, that day being when you swore off the thought of entertaining the idea of him. Thinking of the memory had your fingers itching, the need for nicotine having your mouth water as your nerves got the best of you.

"We could have a smoke in the meantime, while he, uh," Steve seemed to read your mind, glancing over at Eddie continuing to make his deal. He was making a fool of himself, trying to impress that blonde. It seemed to be working as she giggled, tucking a strand of her bang behind her ear. "He, uh, finishes up."

"I've been trying to quit," you said, shutting down the flirtatious tone in his words. Steve quirked an eyebrow at you, smug look on his face.

"I see you smoke every night, sweetheart," his voice was low as he took a step towards you. You couldn't maintain eye contact, pursing your lips to stop the smile forming.

"You've been stalking me, Harrington?" You shot his own joke back at him, noticing the way his eyebrows shot up at you, recognizing the line. He laughed, shaking his head as he held up a finger at you, shaking it side-to-side in a 'No'.

"Nuh uh, sweetheart," laughter evident in his voice. "But I could, if that's what you're into."

You giggled out loud this time, hand coming up to cover your mouth. Your elbow rested at a hand that covered your chest, toe digging into the ground below you as you felt his eyes graze over you.

"Come on," he said, grabbing your hand as he began to lead you towards the sliding glass doors that led to his backyard. A red head girl made a low whistle towards the two of you, causing Steve to lightly smack her on the side of the head as he passed her. "Shut it, Carol."

The air was cold as the two of you stepped outside, summer breeze gently flowing through the layers of your clothes. You breathed into your hands, rubbing them together in hope that warmth met you. He led you towards that same side of the house where you first met, the memories from that first evening flooding back even more as your bedroom windows sat above the two of you.

Steve pulled a near empty carton of cigarettes out of his back pocket, opening it to pull one out. Placing it to his lips, he lit it, taking a deep inhale as the tobacco hit his lungs. His shoulders dragged in relief, as he exhaled, smoke swirling in the air around him.

"So, where've you been, princess?" Steve questioned, passing the cigarette to you as you looked around the backyard. It was much bigger than what you could see from your bedroom window.

"I could ask the same for you, Harrington. I've been around," you looked towards your bedroom window, the light still being on, just as you left it, and the window ajar as your curtains were slowly drifting out into the wind.

"Oh, you know, here, there," he wiggled his eyebrows at you, stepping closer to you as he welcomed the cigarette out of your hands. "Why stay home, when the world is at your fingertips?"

Rolling your eyes at him, you watched as his mouth parted, allowing smoke to flood in. He watched you under hooded eyes, tongue darting out to trace over his bottom lip. Your heart skipped a beat, ringing present in your ears.

"You could make yourself sound like a real pretentious douchebag sometimes, Harrington," your tongue mimicked his own, a quick glance at his plump lips.

A slow smile came across his lips, "You're into that, though?"

You shook your head, losing all words as he stepped closer to you. His hand came to rest at the wall behind you, his broad shape towering over yours as he looked down at you. The hand with the cigarette rested under your chin, pushing your head up so your eyeline paralleled his own.

"Then why are you here, princess?"

You fluttered your eyes shut as he leaned in, his lips brushing over yours as you felt his breath over you. The soft touch of skin had your heart racing, the only thing in your senses was the scent of Steve, tobacco and cinnamon.

Parting your lips with his tongue, Steve pushed his figure into yours, mouth covering yours. He tasted sweet, like cherry cola as his tongue found its way into your mouth. Your fingers fisted at the front of his sweater, pulling him further into you.

A breathy moan escaped him as he pressed you into the wall, his leg parting yours as you leaned up on your toes to reach his mouth. You felt him flick the cigarette off somewhere to your left, his now free hand resting in your hair to bring you in closer.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a low grunt coming from his mouth as your hand dropped to his lower abdomen, lightly rubbing at the area as you dared to press lower. His hand dropped from your hair, resting at your waist as he pushed the material of your sweater up, exposing the tiniest amount of skin.

You gasped into his mouth, as you felt his fingers brush the skin there.

"Really, Skipper?"

Eddie's voice had you jumping away from Steve, your body pressing into the brick of his house as he reluctantly took a step backward. He looked smug, thumb coming up to swipe at the wetness of his bottom lip. You brushed your hair into place, yanking down the rise of your sweater.

Steve let out a laugh, shaking his head as you hurried over towards Eddie's side. Eddie was looking at Steve in disgust, eyes squinted low as he reached up to wrap his arm around your shoulder. The cool leather of Eddie's arm contrasted the warm cashmere of Steve's sweater, you noted, it felt off.

"We gotta go," Eddie muttered, dragging you away from the side of the house. You felt like a little kid being chastised by your father, embarrassment replacing any other emotion you felt previously.

Eddie led you through the house, arm on your shoulder as Steve followed behind you two. You didn't know what to say as you avoided the curious gazes of a few teenagers in the living room. Their eyes were red with intoxication, the thick smell of marijuana filling the room.

Eddie swung open the front door, urging you out as he sighed heavily, the dramatics beginning to come.

"Eddie, don't start," you breathed, rolling your eyes as he gaped at you.

"You fucking kissed, Harrington, Yn," he flailed his arms around, aluminum tin swinging around with them. "Steve! Steve Harrington!"

"It's not that big of a deal, Eddie," you blushed, chewing on your thumb nail as he continued to shout Steve's name at you.

"Oh, but it is, princess," Eddie mocked Steve's nickname to you, rolling his eyes as he huffed at you. The front door was still wide open, if he didn't keep his voice down, you were sure he was going to hear you. "You don't know him like I do, Yn. Steve isn't--he's not that type of person."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" You rose to your defense, irritation beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach.

"Just believe me when I say it, Yn. He's just-" Eddie took a deep breath, rushing a hand through his long curly hair. He seemed to hear something that moment, ear tilting towards the open door as you stood impatient. "Just listen."

"Listen to what?"

"Listen!" He shouted to you, pointing in the direction of the house. You could hear whistles in the background, small cheers from the various teenagers in the house.

You could hear Steve's voice amongst the others.

"Finally, you got your hands on the newbie." Your heart dropped, not recognizing the voice. Meeting Eddie's eyes, his dark brown were filled with a stone cold emotion.

Steve's laugh echoed through the room, "Tommy, shut up."

"Before you know it, Tommy, all you're going to hear is 'Oh, Steve, yes, yes, yes!" the same high pitch squeal from the red head from before was mocking the tone of your own voice. Her laughter drowned out the sound of your own heart beat in your ears. "She'll cave like every other girl in this town. Remind me, Steve, how did I escape the Harrington charm?"

Eddie tugged at your shoulder, urging you to move from the scene back to the comfort of his beat down van.

"Come on, you don't need to hear the rest of it," he muttered, shaking his head as he took a few steps down the entry way. You shook your head, feet planted, hoping once more that Steve would come to your defense, even though you had no reason to believe so. He had left you hanging up on your first meeting, disappointment becoming your best friend.

"I don't even know her name. Hanging with 'The Freak' Munson, don't think it matters."

Those words from Steve were all you needed to hear before you were storming down the path, Eddie's hand loose in your own as you dragged him down the driveway. The clicking of your shoes on the pavement echoed through the air, Eddie quickly behind you as he was the one that struggled to keep up this time around.

You pulled at the door handle of the van, lips pressed in a thin line as Eddie took his time unlocking it. Swinging your body in, you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to make eye contact.

"Look, Yn," Eddie began, key hovering over the ignition. "Your house is right there, if you want to just..."

"Just go, Eddie. I don't want to be here right now."

You turned your body towards the window, ignoring the silence that filled the air. Sucking your teeth, you pressed your forehead against the cool glass, closing your eyes. This time around, you could forget about Steve, he wasn't that type of person as Eddie had put it, whatever type of person you thought he was. That much was clear.

"Mom, I look ridiculous."

You pulled at the pink dress you wore, its itchiness scratching at your neck. The billowing sleeves screaming at you as you took a glance at yourself in the reflection of the car door.

Your mom was standing next to you, adjusting her earrings as she leaned over to look at herself in the passenger side mirror. She rubbed her ring finger over her red lipstick, sucking at her teeth as she made sure her teeth were clean. She stood up to look at you, swiveling around to place her hands on your shoulders.

Giving you a once over, she hummed, pinching your cheek.

"You need just a little color in your cheeks, and you're perfect," she made a kissy face towards you, smiling in her infamous 'fake-rich' smile, as you called it. "Doesn't she look perfect, honey?"

Your dad hummed in response, locking the car as he made his way around the vehicle. "You look beautiful, darling."

Rolling your eyes, you looked down at the kitten heels on your feet.

"Why doesn't my brother have to come to these?" You complained, sighing as your mouth pulled at a few strands of hair that framed your up-do.

"He's hanging out with those kids he met at school. That young boy with the oddball mother, Joyce, I think her name is," your mother smacked at a piece of mint gum, focused on the fly aways that hung around your face. You smacked her hand away, grumbling as she titted at you. "Ah, Yn. Behave."

"I'm not 12, Mom, I don't need to show face at these events."

"I do realize this, darling. But if you ever want to make friends, how do you think it'll happen?" She turned away from you, following your father as she made her way across the pavement. You reluctantly followed in her footsteps, stiff in your movements as your feet hurt from the heels.

"I do have friends." Your face flushed a deep red.

"Uh uh, Yn. That one boy does not count, I do not want you hanging around him anymore," your mom continued, hand coming up to fluff up the back of her hair. She constantly adjusted herself, worried about the whispers of other stay at home moms and gossip mills of people her age. "Ever since I walked in on the two of you doing Lord knows what-"

"Mom!"

"You were doing what now?" Your father raised an eyebrow in your direction, your eyes avoiding his strict gaze.

Your mom ignored him, patting at his arm as she stepped in front of him, making her way up a driveway.

"We had clothes on, you're so embarrassing," you grumbled, crossing your arms as she turned to knock on a front door. She turned towards you, knocking your arms down as you rolled your eyes once again.

"Barely, darling. I don't like to think about it, it gives me premature wrinkles," she quipped, attitude dropping as the door swung open. "Mrs. Hargrove! Lovely to see you!"

You made a face, mocking her fake excitement as your parents stepped into the house. Immediately, you were met with the scent of flower scented perfume, cigarette smoke, and champagne. It was a soiree of adults around Hawkins and their teenagers they had dragged out, celebrating the middle of summer as the more unwelcoming months sat lingering in the distance.

You kept close to their sides, taking a glass of champagne in open arms as Mrs. Hargrove offered you all a few glasses. In public settings like this, you were 'allowed' to drink as long as you kept it to a few glasses.

Time passed by slowly, you introducing yourself to a few families, fake laughing at their jokes, lying to their faces about questions of college, and promising to come over their places, in which you knew you would never end up baking them that ever famous cherry pie your father raved about.

Escaping your mother’s side had you letting out a breath of fresh air, finding solace in the foyer where a tray of champagne flutes sat. A few groups of couples stood around having conversation that didn’t pay you any attention.

You felt a hand pull at your elbow, knocking you back slightly as you reached for your third glass of champagne that night. Looking at the person, you raised your eyebrow in confusion.

It was a blond with long, curly hair, a split in his eyebrow and a light dusting of facial hair over his face. His silver earring caught your eye, tucked deep in the curls that hung around his face.

"Want something a little stronger?" He questioned, flashing you a glimpse of a flask in his pocket. You looked around quickly, corners of your mouth quirking up as he wiggled his eyebrows to you.

"You're going to get us in trouble," you laughed, lowering your glass as he poured some of the contents in it. He glanced around as he poured, winking at you before putting it back in his pocket.

"From the looks of it, you like a bit of trouble," he smiled, grin wide as he showed his pearly white teeth towards you. He chewed on a piece of gum, tongue darting out every now and then. He shot out a hand towards you, waiting for your grasp. "Billy."

You took it, not breaking eye contact as it felt firm in your grasp. "Yn."

"New girl, right?"

You nodded, fighting the eye roll that came at the words. Ever since your last interaction with Steve, you couldn't stand the words to describe you. It had been nearly half a year since you came, so you figured these words would have warned off by now.

"Me too," Billy sighed, shoulders square as confidence exuded off of him. "My family just moved to this shit hole last month. You know, welcome party and all."

You hummed, agreeing with him as he described the state of the small town. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't your favorite. It was just like any other fake mid-town American city you had visited before.

Taking a sip out of your flute, you grimaced at the taste, the strong liquor overpowering the softness of the champagne. It earned a laugh from Billy, his cologne wafting off of him. The urge to find out more about this boy piquing your curiosity.

Before you could say anything, a hand came to snake around your shoulders. Snapping your head, your heart sank, that ever familiar scent of cinnamon and tobacco covering you. Steve smiled down at you, cockiness in his movements.

"Hey, princess," he kissed the air in your direction before settling his eyes on Billy. Immediately, you saw the change in demeanor, two alpha males seemingly in an attempt to intimidate one another.

"What are you doing here, Harrington?" Billy straightened up, voice low as he addressed the teen. Steve licked his lips, tightening his arm around you.

"What? Invitations cut off at the Harrington home?" Steve questioned, rolling his eyes at the blond in front of him. You pushed at Steve's side, heart fluttering at the way his grip tightened on your shoulder as you did so. His scent was overwhelming, cologne making you nearly lightheaded.

"Why don't you go fuck off elsewhere, Harrington, find someone else to bother," Billy stepped closer to the two of you, your alarm bells going off as you realized this stand off was a little more personal than you. Your eyes widened as Steve's smile dropped from his face, arm coming off of your shoulder as he stepped closer to Billy.

"Make me, Hargrove."

The two of them stood in a silent stand off, searching each other's eyes as no one dared to make a move. You stood back, admiring the view of the two men. You had to admit they were attractive, their display of dominance having you slightly blushing. Taking a sip of the strong concoction in your hands, you eyed the two men, waiting to see who would cave first.

You didn't have to wait long, your mom intercepting herself.

"Oh, Billy, sweetheart. I think your mom needs something in the kitchen," she smiled, patting at his back as he broke eye contact from Steve. The confidence that flowed off him earlier was broken, anger filling his blue eyes.

"She's not my mom," he mumbled, shoving Steve out of the way as he pushed past the two of you.

Your mom frowned, eyes trailing his path. "What an angry, handsome young man."

Steve snorted, his own gaze following the direction in which Billy made his way. Your mom reached over to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Smacking at her hand, you mouthed 'mooomm' at her, embarrassed if Steve had noticed.

"You're the young Harrington boy," your mother beamed at him, hand reaching up to brush against the single curl that hung over his forehead. Steve's height even towered over her, his head ducking down to meet her grasp. You flushed even further at that gesture, your hand coming up to rest at the heat of your forehead.

"And you must be Yn's sister, nice to finally meet you," Steve grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his mouth to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. Your mom was blushing at this point, the Harrington charm having its effect on her.

You rolled her eyes at the two of them, your mom swatting at his chest as he laughed politely. Tuning them out, you took another swig of your glass, fighting the grimace as Steve attempted to flirt with your mom.

He had your mom laughing, giggling like a school girl at his comments about her beauty. It was like you weren't even there, your mom forgetting she was a married woman as Steve charmed her.

"Yn!" Your attention was brought back to the conversation, your mom's voice drunk off of Steve's attention. "Why didn't you tell me you had dropped that goth boy for Steve here?"

You were confused, eyes flitting back and forth between the two. You had obviously missed a part of the conversation, key information that had you wondering. Steve brought a hand to your waist, pulling you into him. You stiffened in his arms, hand coming up to rest at his chest as you managed to keep a little distance between the two of you.

"What are you talking about?"

"Steve! He said he was taking you out tomorrow night!" Your mom gushed, clasping her hands together at her chest as she looked between the two of you. You knew she wasn't excited for his words or the fact that it was Steve, she was excited if it meant you didn't associate yourself with Eddie anymore. She never had a strong affliction for his long hair or his rock music or loud van that pulled up too late in the middle of the night.

"He is?"

"I am, princess, remember?" Steve questioned, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your knees almost buckled under you as goosebumps stretched over your body. His eyes glanced at your mouth briefly, not going unnoticed.

"No, refresh my memory, Harrington." You shot back, irritated at the reaction your body had.

"Yn." You heard your mom's voice warn you about your tone. You ignored it, focusing on the tall boy in front of you.

"Me, you, tomorrow night. 7 pm, if it's alright, Mrs. Yln?" He briefly addressed your mom, gaze shooting to see her eager nod. Returning his eyes to you, he began to smile. "There's that new movie out that I know you've been dying to see. You couldn't tell me enough about it."

"Oh, is that right?" You kept your words short as Steve's hand dipped lower on your waist. His fingertips brushed over the top of the curve of your ass, earning a small gasp out of you.

"That's right, sweetheart," his eyes wrinkled at the corners as he smiled down at you, dragging his fingers even lower. His gaze didn't falter as he waited for a reaction out of you.

"Aren't you two the cutest. Little love birds," your mom enthused, reaching up with both hands to pinch at your cheeks. She turned on her heel, walking away from the pair of you to engage with a couple a few feet behind her.

As soon as she was lost in the crowd, you pushed Steve away from you, ignoring his laugh as you stormed towards the front door. You needed to be away from him, he was an ass, lying to your mom like that, lying to you like that. You made your way out of the door, fresh air hitting your hot, flushed face.

Letting out a choked exhale, you closed your eyes, running your hands through your hair. You ripped out the clip that held it up, shaking it out as you caught your breath. Your arousal at the earlier situation pooled in your belly, heart beating fast as you were met with conflicting emotions.

"Yn?"

Swiveling around, Steve was standing behind you, hands tucked into his pockets.

"You're such an ass, Harrington."

He shook his head, looking down at his feet as you glared at him. Continuing your words, you couldn't help, but want to hate him in the moment.

"What the hell was that? All that lovey dovey shit in there? Scaring off Billy?"

Steve's eyes shot up in your direction, face turning up at your questions.

"Billy's a real piece of work, Yn. You don't want anything to do with him," he said, dragging his eyes over your chest. You looked down, pulling up the collar of your dress as it dipped down, exposing a little too much of your breast bone. He wasn't helping his case much.

His words reminded you of your conversation with Eddie that night, his warning of the type of person Steve was.

"Like you aren't? Because I want something to do with you," you retorted sarcastically, beginning to walk towards the end of the driveway. Steve's footsteps trailed behind you, irritating you even further before you huffed and leaned against a random car. He stepped in your space, shoes almost brushing your heels as you looked up at him.

He made a quick glance in the direction of the house before leaning in, pressing his mouth to yours. His hands found your hips, hoisting you up on the hood of the car before finding his place between your hips. Moaning into the grasp, you were caught off guard.

Your mouth moved against his, hands finding the hair at the nape of his neck as you pulled him against you.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours.

"Wear something pretty tomorrow, princess," he pressed a quick kiss to your mouth before pulling you completely away, making his way towards the house.

You sat there dumbstruck, cool metal of the car seeping through the material of your dress. Lips tingling, lower belly wanting more, you squeezed your eyes shut, thinking about how stupid you would be if you believed Harrington for the third time in a row.

Eddie’s voice was low on the phone as you sat in your towel, window wide open as you felt the cool air of the night makes its way in. Madonna played on the stereo in the back, her voice blending with the sound of chirping crickets.

"You sure you can't come over tonight?"

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you listened to his whine.

"No, I can't, I'm under house arrest," you complained, rolling your eyes as you flipped onto your back. The phone cord wrapped around your wrist, your free hand coming up to twirl at it.

A static-filled voice came through the phone line, you recognizing it as your moms, "No, she can't go tonight, Edward."

Heat filled your cheeks as embarrassment pooled in your chest. You pulled the phone away from your ear, covering the end.

"Mom! Get off the phone!" You screamed, hearing your mom scream something back at you from downstairs. The phone line clicked as Eddie laughed, a deep chuckle echoing through your ears.

"She really hates me, doesn't she," Eddie said through his laughter. You closed your eyes, tightening the towel around your chest.

"No," You lied, gritting your teeth. Eddie didn't need to see you to hear the blatant lack of truth in your words.

"You're such a liar, Yn. I recognize hate when I see it," he said, you could hear the eye roll in his words. You tried not to think of his words, the mention of hate being a word he was so so familiar with.

"She just doesn't like your tattoos," you said, stretching your limbs out across your bed. Your towel peaked open slightly, exposing your upper thigh. The air felt cool against your skin, urging your eyes shut as you relaxed into your sheets. "And maybe your van or your long hair-"

"Or the music or the trailer or the drugs," he continued, laughing as he heard your giggle through the line. You heard something at your window, distracting you from Eddie's continuation of his speech.

Before you knew it, a mop of hair popped up at the open window, Steve's brown eyes glancing around your room. You gasped, sitting up as you gripped onto the thin towel that covered your body.

"You okay, Yn?" Eddie's voice brought you back to the phone, your eyes focused on Steve falling through your window. He hit the ground with a thud, a low groan escaping him as the wind gets slightly knocked out of him. "Yn?"

"I gotta go, Eddie." You said, pulling the phone away from your ear. You heard his rushed, 'wait, who is that?' before you put the receiver on the hook.

Your fingers gripped your towel, squeezing your legs together as Steve rose to his feet.

"What are you doing, Steve!" Your voice was low as you heard your mother making her way up the stairs. Eyes trained on the door, Steve followed your gaze, rushing over to lock it quickly. The knob jiggled, your mother's concerned voice sounding through the door.

"Honey? What was that? Are you okay?"

Steve had his palm pressed to the wood, eyes wide as he looked at you.

"I'm fine! Just dropped my ... bag?" You said, flipping Steve off as he furrowed his brow at you. He mouthed, 'really?' in your direction.

‘Shut. Up.’ You mouthed at him, ignoring the way he looked at you incredulously.

"That Edward kid better not be in there!" Your mom yelled, doorknob jiggling again.

"Mom!" You screamed back, closing your eyes in frustration.

"I mean it, Yn!" She said before you heard her footsteps walk away from the door. Steve waited a few beats, before turning to you, hands on his hips. His eyes roamed your body, the air feeling a little too cold as you realized you were just in your towel.

"Well, well," he said, smirk toying at his lips.

"What are you doing here, Harrington?" You avoided eye contact with him, standing up to grab the closest piece of clothing you could drape over your body. You opened your closet door, blocking the view of him as you slipped the item over your body. It was a sun dress, albeit on the smaller side as you meant to return it next week.

Stepping out from behind the door, you rubbed the towel against your damp hair, cheeks flushed.

"I said 7 pm, remember?" He looked at his watch, wrist raising up as he tapped on the small screen. He pursed his lips at you, eyebrows raising as you realized it was a quarter past the time.

"I didn't think you were serious," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as your nipples began to harden in the cool breeze of the room. Steve's eyes followed, slowly dragging his eyes away to return to your face.

You sat on the edge of your bed, tightening your frame as Steve made his way to sit next to you.

"I always keep my promises, Yn," He whispered, hand coming up to rest at your thigh. You gasped as you looked at him, barely noticing the bruise forming underneath his right eye. Your thumb came up to brush against it, his hand stopping your movements just as you made contact with the skin.

"What happened?" Your voice was a low whisper as he held eye contact, a more solemn look on his face. You could recognize a specific look in his eyes, something he tried to cover up with his confidence and flirtatious advances.

"Don't worry about me, princess," he muttered, leaning into you. His scent filled your airways as his lips kissed you. His mouth was soft, making you melt on the spot as he licked into your mouth.

Moaning softly, you welcomed his touch, feeling the way his fingers tangled into your hair. His tongue ran over yours, lapping inside of your mouth as your breath became more and more heavy.

He pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw. Arching your neck back, your hand came to curl up at his hair, fingers digging into his scalp, eliciting a moan out of the man.

"Steve," you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as his mouth made a trail of marks down your jugular. Each touch felt like heaven's kiss, warm breath soothing the harsh marks he made. He pulled away from you, you pouted at him, dropping your gaze to the plump, redness of his mouth.

"I think that's the first time you called me my name, princess," he whispered into the air, hand coming to cradle the back of your head. A soft smile, different from his cocky smirk, crossed his face. He looked nice like that, you figured.

Returning his mouth to yours, he pushed you down on the mattress, towering over you as he maintained his assault to your mouth. The kiss became more rushed, Steve panting into your mouth as he hovered over you, hand slowly pushing up the material further up your thigh.

His fingers danced at the crease of your groin, your legs opening wider before you could even think about it.

"So eager, princess," He muttered against your mouth, reveling in the way you moaned his name. His fingers ran up the length of your slit, his smile at the wetness he was met with. "Already?"

"Shut up, Harrington," you grumbled, rolling your eyes at him. His eyebrows raised at you, his mouth dropping open to mirror yours as he pressed a finger inside. Holding eye contact, you moaned at the feeling of him inside you, his thick digit sending shock waves through you.

"I know you love it, princess."

His words added fuel to the fire, his finger moving deep within you as he searched for that sweet spot inside of you. Not taking long to find it, your back arched up into him, a loud moan escaping you.

"Shhh," he said, leaning on his elbow to press a hand to your mouth. Your face twisted up in pleasure as he fingered you, another digit pressing at your entrance as you opened up for him.

"Don't want mommy coming up here and finding you like this," he continued his taunts, your eyes fluttering shut as his fingers hit that pleasure point over and over. Whiteness pooled through your system, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

As his fingers stretched you out, you felt him rut against your thigh, thick jean-covered bulge urging more wetness out of you. The idea of him being turned on by this was bringing you closer to the edge than his fingers were.

His thumb came up to rub at your clit, a breathy sigh against his palm escaping. Your thighs were shaking at his point, his fingers quickening as he realized how close you were.

"Gonna cum for me, baby?" He questioned, smirk coming back to watch the look on your face. You nodded rapidly, mewling under his touch. Small moans came out of you, hips moving in sync with his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Bet you want to cum on me, huh, sweetheart? Feel fucked out against my cock, baby?"

He pressed you, bringing you closer and closer with each thrust of his fingers.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, baby. Make you forget all about that Munson kid," he whispered against your ear, voice dripping with arousal as his circled your clit. Your fingers gripped at his forearm, half moon shapes forming as your nails dug in.

"Would you like that, sweetheart?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your temple. You felt the tension building up in your belly, warmth filling you as you came closer to your release. "You want Steve to fill you with his cock? Fuck you until you can barely remember your own name?"

You came with a shout, guttural moan coming out as his arched into his grasp. He laughed as you rode yourself through it, fingers covered in your slick as he pumped them into you the last few times. This man had done nothing to you other than finger you, but you felt like you ran a triathlon.

He sat up on the bed, removing his fingers from you as you sat there, legs open, dress pushed up to your waist. He held eye contact with you as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, tongue darting out as he sucked the digits into his mouth.

You moaned at the filthiness, not believing that Steve was as bold in bed, as he was outside of it. The smile around his lips was condescending as he watched you watch his tongue, lapping up your slick on his hand.

Glancing down his body, he was hard in his jeans, small patch of wet pooling in the front. You reached towards it, fingers just grazing the rough material as you heard a knock in the far distance.

Steve looked over towards your window, your eyes following the movement.

"Steven," His mother's voice was faint, his bedroom window wide open. "Nancy's here!"

You couldn't help but feel like you do this to yourself at this point, irritation not even something you could be bothered with feeling. Steve removed his hand from his mouth, standing up as you readjusted yourself.

"Gotta go, princess," he whispered towards you, pressing a chaste kiss to your mouth. It lingered, his hand briefly coming up to rest at your wild hair.

"Don't wait up," he winked at you, swinging his leg over your window sill. Arousal and anticipation pooled in your belly, remnants from earlier.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Harrington," You muttered, briefly wondering how much trouble you would be in if you just pushed him right off the ledge. He disappeared before you could even think of it further, the curtains fluttering as his hand disappeared out of sight.

He was going to be the death of you.

You had distanced yourself from the Harrington boy, not wanting to fall victim to his flirting again after the incident in your bedroom. Summer nights spent inside of your bedroom passed the time as your mom insisted you weren’t grounded, just not allowed to go out. You didn’t even know what you were under house arrest for, nothing significant enough happening that you would be in trouble for.

Whenever you had asked, she brushed it off, giving you some lame excuse that fell under the ‘more family time’ umbrella.

You hadn’t seen much of Steve lately, his bedroom light off and BMW missing from the driveway. You had heard rumors of him and Nancy being the IT couple around town, Eddie telling you over the phone. You insisted you didn’t care, complaining that he only told you because he wanted to rub it in that Steve “wasn’t that type of guy” even further.

Your little brother even had a life, spending his nights with the younger boys from town, you hearing him speaking on a walkie he had inherited from somewhere.

Tonight was your night to sneak out, finding yourself downtown as you passed by the local theatre.

You are searching for a store to buy your cigarettes from, the previous clerk you went to insisting that there had been a new law pushed urging 21 and over only. The lack of nicotine had you itching, mouth watering at every scent of the drug that passed you.

“Hey, new girl!” You heard a familiar voice behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Turning around, you recognized Tommy, his stupid, freckled face, smiling at you. Behind him, Carol and Steve stood, his arm around a young brunette you recognized to be known as Nancy.

You glanced up towards the night sky, wondering why you had never gotten into religion. Maybe then there would be something that would listen to you.

“New girl,” he taunted again, stepping closer to you. Only a few feet away, you could see all of the groups eyes on you, wondering where Tommy was going with his calls.

“Tommy,” you greeted him, hands shoving into your coat as you looked for an escape route. He took a step closer to you, urging you to come closer. You noticed a cigarette in his hand, your eyes flicking down to his grasp as your addiction took over any logical sense in your mind.

Taking a step towards the group, you nodded a greeting at the girls, avoiding Steve’s eye line all together. You had nothing to say to him, not even a greeting as he left you high and dry on your last interaction.

You had been successful avoided him for the rest of the summer, you definitely weren’t going to start now a week before school starts again.

“Long time no see, sweet thing,” Tommy’s nick name for you had you cringing, his annoying voice not even doing a portion of what Steve had done for you. You shook your head, ignoring the way your heart fluttered at the memory. It had been almost two months since you last heard him call you that.

“I’ve been around,” you said, squaring your shoulders as you eyed the tobacco in Tommy’s fingers.

“Still hang out with that freak kid?” He asked you, slapping his fist against his palm as he questioned you. You quirked an eyebrow, wondering what he was getting at.

“What kid?” You asked, knowing exactly who he was talking about. You knew where this was going, but didn’t have the energy to play along with his game.

“Munson, the freak, devil worshiper, whatever you wanna call it.”

His laugh was loud in the air as Carol followed, giggling into her jacket as both Steve and Nancy looked uncomfortable.

“What about it, Tommy?” You sighed, wanting him to get straight to the point. His laughter came to an end, looking for Carol for confirmation before his next question.

“What do I have to do to get a little something from him?”

You raised an eyebrow, dragging your eyes over his freckled face. Nodding, a smile crossed your face.

“Oh, Eddie doesn’t swing that way. He’ll pass,” you smirked, hearing the way that Steve snorted at your comment. Glancing in his direction, you couldn’t help but notice the way Nancy held her gaze on you, unfaltered.

“No, dumbass,” Tommy rolled his eyes, snapping at Steve who immediately quieted down. “I meant weed.”

“I mean, I guess I could make a call,” you looked down at your feet, shifting your weight side to side as you debated your options. You had no obligations to this man, but you felt the need to do a favor if it meant helping out Steve in the same breath.

“Perfect, you know where Steve lives-”

“She does?” Nancy’s voice was soft as she questioned the open air. Nobody answered even though the answer of you two being neighbors was simple.

“-so just come by and drop it off when you’re done making that run.” Tommy was casual in his orders, barking them off as if he was used to running things.

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “And when do I answer you?”

“I think you’ll do it if you even want a chance of a social life next year, babe.”

His threat seemed empty to you, not intimidated by the chance of your ‘social score’ being ruined. Eddie was the first friend you made in Hawkins, it was ruined before it even happened, and everyone knew that.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in his direction, “I don’t even have a way of getting there and back.”

“I’ll take you.”

Steve’s voice caused all of you to look at him, Nancy taking a step back to look at her boyfriend. Blushing, you didn’t know how to answer.

“Go ride with them, Nance. And I’ll meet you back over there,” he coolly replied, taking a step in your direction. She opened her mouth a couple of times, seemingly embarrassed at the way she had been tossed to the side.

“Steve, w-what?” She asked, confusion written all over her features.

“I’ll be back,” he said, stepping into her as you felt uncomfortable at the interaction. He looked like he was going to kiss her for a second, only to pat a hand on her cheek before stepping in your direction.

A hand was pressed to the small of your waist as he led you to the maroon colored car. It was a few streets down, the group of teens behind you getting smaller as you watched Nancy with her pair of eyes on you. You felt guilty, even if you hadn’t done anything to her.

“You’re even a dick to your girlfriend, Harrington,” you said, as he opened the passenger door for you. You took a look at him before sliding in, tucking your feet in as the door slammed behind you. He made his way to the drivers seat, settling in as he smirked at you.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he replied, key pressing into the ignition.

“You might want to tell her that,” you quipped, head turning towards the window as he took off down the street. The lights of downtown faded in the background as you made your way towards the desolate part of Hawkins.

You were confused as more and more trees appeared, the way to Eddie’s trailer becoming more and more clear.

“How do you know where he lives?”

Steve glanced at you, turning down the stereo so he could hear you better. You repeated the question, eyes trained on the trees becoming more sparse as you approached the lot.

It might have been the first time you saw Steve blush, “Oh, Nance’s litt- Nancy’s little brother’s here all the time, playing a dumb board game or something. I drive them sometimes when they don’t have a ride. Your brother’s there too, sometimes.”

You rose an eyebrow at the slip of the little nickname, humming as you turned towards the window. Trailers began to pass you, Eddie’s appearing with his van parked right out front.

“She’s so your girlfriend, Harrington,” you muttered, getting out of the car before you could hear him say anything. You didn’t want to linger on the thought that Steve had been taken by someone, a truly good girl, no matter how much you liked to pretend you were. No connection had truly been made between you, but you did enjoy that cat and mouse chase you had going.

You made your way up to the stairs, knuckles rapping at the door. Eddie appeared, confused as he stood there in a tight black t-shirt, exposing the bottom of his stomach.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, not even saying hello. His eyes squinted as he noticed the headlights of a car pointed in your direction. “Is that- is that fucking Steve?”

You grumbled, pushing him back into the trailer as you shut the door behind you. You felt Steve’s eyes on the two of you, you didn’t want him to see the interaction.

“I thought you couldn’t come out. House arrest or some other bullshit,” Eddie complained, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat down on the couch. You shrugged, eyes trained on everything else but the man in front of you. “And yet you’re here with Steve fucking Harrington.”

Eyes widening at the harshness in his words, you scratched behind your ear.

“We need weed,” you said, avoiding his statements. Eddie shushed you, finger pointing to his ear. “I didn’t even say it that loud, dimwit, I just need some.”

Eddie pursed his lips at you, staring, unmoving as you mirrored his stance. Hip cocked out, you placed a hand on your hip, tapping your toes against the floor.

“Why would I give Harrington some of my stuff?” He asked, defensive even as he stood up to make his way to his room. He was grabbing the tin anyways, making his way out back to where you stood.

“Because you love me and want good things for me,” you said, but it came out more like a question. Eddie rolled his eyes, grabbing a random baggie before shoving it in your grasp.

A smile crossing your face, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Love you, Munson.” He face filled with color as he glanced down at the floor.

You turned around to make your way out, Eddie’s hand darting out to grab you.

“I’m doing this for you, okay? Not Harrington, not Tommy H, not anyone else, okay?” He asked, eyes set deep into you as you nodded along to his words. The serious expression in his face made you want to cry, he had never been so stoic around you. “Whatever you’re doing, just … I warned you, okay? Please be careful.”

“Always will be,” you muttered, watching as his eyes searched yours once more before dropping to the products in his hand. He didn’t say anything else, so you took that opportunity to run out of that trailer, making your way back to the beemer that sat in front of the property.

Steve jumped as you made your way into the car, singing along to some random song of the radio. He raised an eyebrow to you, questioning if you got the stuff. You pulled it out of your pocket, showing him the large amount he had given you.

“Holy shit, Munson,” he laughed, shaking his head as he started his car. He high-tailed it out of there, car speeding over the empty streets as he made his way towards population.

The drive had you thinking, wondering what the hell you were doing in the front seat of this car. Steve’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel, the rhythmic noises urging you to think of the reality of the situation.

Him and you would never work out, he was always doing something, somebody, never gave you a considerate time of the day. You were lucky if you got more than 20 minutes with the asshole.

He couldn’t be thinking of you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that he did whenever he left his bedroom window open.

“Yn?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, his hand waving in front of your face. He was pulled into his driveway, another car, one you recognized as Tommy’s, parked next to it. You heard shouting coming from the backyard, the splashing of a pool as Carols voice screamed.

“Sorry, just … thinking,” you muttered, grabbing the bag off of your lap to hand to Steve. He looked confused as you reached for your seatbelt, clicking it off of you as you reached for the door handle.

“You’re not coming in?” He asked you, voice a lot softer than you ever remember it being. Your hand stopped on the handle as you turned to face him. You weren’t sure what he was getting at.

“I can’t?” You asked, voice careful considering your next words. “Nancy’s here? And I’m sure Tommy and Carol want me dead.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head at your answer.

“They don’t hate you, and Nance is not my girlfriend,” he said, hand coming out to rest at your thigh. His thumb dipped onto the inner muscle, butterflies flowing through your stomach. “Just come in, for a little bit.”

You shook your head, noticing the way he leaned closer to you. You felt his breath against your lips, the scent of spearmint gum coming from him.

“Just a little bit,” he whispered, pressing a small kiss to your lips. You leaned into it, hand reaching across to rest on his own leg.

Parting from you, he took a small breath.

“Or we could maybe have a little fun here?” He asked, running a finger to the heat between your legs. The material of your dress was pushed up as his fingertips danced over the material of your underwear.

Your legs opened, inviting him in as he rubbed circles over your heat, watching the way your underwear became stained with your wetness. A whimper escaped your lips, eyes fluttering shut as he began to massage your sex.

“What’s wrong with a little fun?” He whispered, pulling back your underwear at the waistband, just to let go, smirking at the way you jumped when it snapped at your skin. “Nancy doesn’t have to know everything.”

Your face dropped as you pushed his hand off of you, straightening your clothes as you felt a sting at the back of your eye.

“Woah, Yn,” he said, putting his hand up in surrender as you pulled your jacket over your frame, shielding the exposed skin your dress had to offer. “What happened?”

Crossing your legs, you didn’t dare look at the Harrington boy.

“Is that what this is?” You questioned, hearing Eddie’s words in your mind from earlier. Steve sputtered, confused at the sudden change in mood.

“What are you talking about?” Apprehension clear in his tone, he tried touching you again, only to be smacked away.

“Am I just a distraction for you whenever you’re bored?” You began to raise your voice, annoyance prickling at your tone. “Whenever you want something a little different from Nancy?”

Steve sighed, pinching his nose bridge as he processed your words. Silence lingered in the air for a moment, the only sounds present were the distant ones of the teenagers in the backyard.

“Did you honestly think it was anything more?”

His words had you snapping your head in his direction. You couldn’t believe his words, jaw dropping as he stared at you.

“W-what?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, Eddie’s face appearing in the back of your mind. His words were crystal clear now, the false hope of Steve Harrington tarnishing your ideals of him. You knew he was with the brunette girl, you knew he was in a relationship, you had heard it all summer. Even as he denied it earlier, you felt it inside of you that they were together.

“I’m sorry if you thought it was anything more,” he answered you, uncomfortably adjusting his hair. This would be the moment where he pretended like he had been loyal to his girlfriend the entire time. “I think I’m, like, with Nancy now.”

You rolled your eyes at him, not choosing to answer as you stormed out of the car. You slammed the door shut, crossing the lawn to your own house, not caring that you were knocking on the front door, even if you had snuck out earlier. Your mom answered, confused at you presenting yourself, when you should’ve been in your room the entire night.

“Yn? What’s going on?” She asked, glancing behind you to see if she saw anyone. If she saw Steve, half way out of his car, staring in your direction, she didn’t say anything, instead inviting you in as the tears began to come.

She didn’t say anything as you threw yourself in the house, closing the door behind you before you hugged her, letting out a tear as you buried your head in her arms. Your mom was confused, but her motherly instinct kicks in, silent as she was wrapping her arms around you as you sobbed.

You didn’t want Eddie to be right, but he had been the entire time. Admitting to being with Nancy wasn’t the worst part of it all after denying it all night, it was just how he had made you feel important even if it was for a split second. Deep down, you knew he wasn’t to be true in his words, but for the moment, you liked to pretend. He slipped into the role so easily, it made you feel like it was natural, him being the missing puzzle piece inside of you.

Steve wasn’t the person you had thought him to be, he was much worse.

The school year had began, three months and now deep into the winter season, and you had kept your distance even further from everyone else. Eddie had been bothered by it at first, wondering why you were even ghosting him when it came to your isolation. He knew it was Steve related, but he didn’t press the situation, choosing to give your space as you needed. He knew you would come back around eventually.

You heard rocks hitting your window at night as you kept it closed, Steve’s own window ajar as he hung half way out of it. The only response you had was to turn up your stereo, ignoring him as you felt your story was over. Being a pawn in his game wasn’t the way that you wanted to live your life in this town, waiting for the school season to be over until you could make it to college.

You chose to sulk in your room, realizing the self loathing and isolation weren’t going to get you anywhere, but you could pretend as long as it brought you inner peace. You shouldn’t be this upset over someone like him, but you couldn’t help it.

Steve's window across the way was lit up, curtains drawn as shadowed figures moved behind it. You crossed the distance of your bedroom floor, closing the journal that you scribbled in. Two shadows danced in the swaying of the pulled curtains, you figured it was Steve with Nancy, a normal occurrence you saw in the late hours of the night. His window was cracked open, the curtains being sucked out of the opening as the harsh weather made its claim over your part of town.

Just as you went to turn around, you saw a hand strike up, hitting the smaller one next to it. Gasping, you covered your mouth, not believing the sight in front of you. How could Steve hit Nancy like that? You didn't realize he was that type of person, an asshole in every aspect of his life.

The smaller figure fell out of view of the window, presumably on the bed as you saw a small bounce of the shadow. You chose to run out of the room, nearly knocking down your mom as you descended the stairs.

"Honey, what's going on?" She called out to you, but you ignored it, throwing open the front door as you hurried across the lawns. You couldn't waste any time, pounding your fist against the wooden double doors.

"Nancy?" You called out, fist rapidly pounding. All of the Harrington cars were in the driveway, you knew they had to be home by the way each light on the first floor was on. Nobody answered, your fist began to hurt with the force of each blow to the door.

Your face was flushed as it flew open, Steve's mom standing there with her perfect, chestnut hair, styled down to her shoulders. She held a dishrag in her hands, wiping wetness off of it as she looked you up and down, curious.

"Oh, hello, Miss Yn. Is everything okay, darling?" She asked you, peaking her head out to glance around you. She looked for something as you took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say.

"I just- your son," you took a few deep gasps, trying to look around her for signs of the Wheeler girl. "Is Nancy okay?"

She pursed her lips, hand coming up to rest at her hip. You saw a spitting image of Steve in that moment, now knowing where he got it from.

"Uh, Nancy?"

"I saw- She, uh... She fell," you breathed, head shaking as you struggled over your own thoughts. "I don't know what I saw."

You felt crazy as Mrs. Harrington took a look at you. Her gaze slowly traveled over your body, her head nodding slowly as she glanced briefly behind her. She seemed at the same loss of words as you.

"Nancy's not here, darling," She said, beginning to close the door. "You should go home."

Your hand shot out, stopping the wood from closing. The woman gasped, shocked at your bravery in doing so.

"No!" Taking a step towards the home, you couldn't just leave it as that. You were in the doorway at this point, craning your neck to look behind her as you searched for the brunette. "I saw her."

"Honey, I don't know what you saw, but you need to go-"

"Yn?" Steve appeared behind her suddenly, confusion draped over his eyes. A small gasp escaped your mouth as you realized you had the situation so, so wrong.

His eye was yet again bruised, a small cut on his mouth as he ducked his face towards the floor. His body was covered by his mom as he stood behind her, hand coming up to grip the frame of the door. Mrs. Harrington took a look back at her son, not phased by the injuries on his face.

"Steven, go back to your room," she said, shaking her head as placed a hand on his cheek. He flinched away from it, eyes not leaving you as he moved around her. She protested, annoyed at the fact he followed you outside, stepping out of the warmth of the home. "Steven! Before your father-"

"I'll be back," he said, hands on you as he slowly pushed you away from the entrance. He spared a look back at her as his hand found yours. "Please, don't tell him."

The older woman looked at him in his eyes, a silent conversation occurring between the two of them. Glancing at your clasped hands, she took one look behind her before nodding, closing the door with a soft thud.

"Steve? What's going on?" You asked, feeling the warmth of his hand as he led you towards his car. He shushed you, pushing you inside as he unlocked it. The smell of old leather and tobacco invaded your senses, fear shaking your bones as you did not know what to take from the situation. You watched as he settled into the driver's seat, key in ignition before pulling out onto the main road.

Silence overtook the two of you, the only sounds being the small beginnings of the pitter-patter of rain hitting the windshield. The look on the boy's face made him look so young at this moment, his big, brown eyes blinking away the stinging of tears, hand coming up every now and then to touch the red on his lip.

"Steve?"

He didn't answer you, instead pulling over to the side of the road as deep throes of trees surrounded you. He rested his head in his hands, fingers running over his face as the rain continued to grow heavy.

Your hand came to rest at his back, uncertainty in your movements as you weren't sure what you were doing here.

"Steve?" You tried once again, his gaze finally meeting yours, lashes wet with tears. The bruise over his eye had swelled at this point, his fingers coming up to shield the majority of the injury from your wandering look. You moved your hand to grab his, leaning over the center console. It left his face as your grip tightened, fingers intertwining in the darkness of the car.

"You weren't supposed to see that," he muttered, looking down at your chin as he dropped eye contact. The Harrington you once knew was gone in this moment, replaced by a younger version who seemed scared of even himself.

"How long has he...?

Your voice trailed off as he shook his head at you, your question answering itself.

"You don't deserve that. No one does, you shouldn't have to deal with that."

Steve's laughter cut off the rest of your words, he looked up at the roof of the car, shaking his head.

"Little miss perfect, telling me how to deal with this," he tapped his knuckle on the driver's window, other hand dancing on the steering wheel. Heat was on your cheeks.

"I'm just trying to help, Harrington."

He nodded, eyes flitting in your direction as you shrank down in the seat.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said, hand coming out to rest at your knee. "I... he-he wasn't always like this. It's whenever he drinks too much, and in case, you haven't noticed, I'm not the best as staying silent."

Your hand covered his in your knee, rubbing in small circles as his grip tightened. The warmth flowed through your body, small shock waves of electricity tingling at your spine.

You snorted at his comment, rolling your eyes at the memory of all the little quips Steve had given you since you met him.

"I promise I'm okay, it's not as bad as it looks," he continued, turning his body towards you as you leaned into him. His hand came to rest at your cheek, thumb rubbing at the skin on your cheekbone. "I'm okay, princess. I promise."

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but Steve hadn't been the most trust worthy person you had met in the town. This time, his lying benefited the situation, you weren't sure if he had lied for his own sake, or for yours.

He leaned in slowly, lips hovering over yours for a moment, before they lightly pressed in. A slight copper taste of blood was on his lips, masking the mint taste he so often had. You nipped at his lip, earning a hiss from him as he pulled away slightly.

"Watch it, princess," he laughed into your mouth, fingers lacing in your hair as he pulled you into him. You nodded, breathless sigh opening your mouth, letting his tongue find dominance over yours.

Suddenly, you saw the Wheeler girl, her brown hair against Steve's shoulder, arms wrapped around him in your memory. Pulling away, you placed a hand on his chest, elbow resting on the center console.

"Wh-what about Nancy?" You said, licking the taste of Steve off of your lips. His eyes traced your tongue's movement, his own tongue darting out as he attempted to lean in again.

"She dumped me," he shrugged, glancing up at you.

"Steve!" You exclaimed, eyes widening at his admission. This boy was hurting in more ways than one, all of it being dumped on you on this unexpecting night.

He shook his head, eyes rolling. "She said my mind was too busy on someone else."

His voice was low as he spoke to you, features dark. Heart kicking up a few notches, the hand on his chest began to pull at the fabric, exposing a few hairs by his collarbone.

"I was too distracted by you," he whispered into the air, mouth returning to yours as his thumb parted your lips. His tongue was warm and wet, gliding over the muscle of yours as he leaned over you. The sound of the leather crushed under you, Steve halfway out of his seat as passion was exchanged in the kiss.

"Get in the back, sweetheart," he muttered against your mouth, pressing small kisses to you. You leaned your head back, moaning at the way his wet mouth began to suck and lick at your neck.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Harrington," you rolled your eyes in pleasure, pants coming out of your lips. He nipped at the skin harshly, leaving teeth marks at the plump skin.

He unbuckled the seat belt that strapped you in, guiding it so it didn't harm you as it slid back into place. He reached down, patting at your ass as he urged you to crawl over the seats.

"It's okay," he said, voice low as his hand grazed over your hip. "I'm going to fuck you, sweetheart."

His words sent heat straight to your core, you jumped up at his words, hearing his laughter as you crawled into the back, ridding yourself of your shirt before he could utter the words. He followed you movements, long limbs tripping over himself as he struggled to manage his height in the back. He settled his weight over you, hips planting over yours as he returned his mouth to its previous place, sucking at the junction of your neck.

His hands found your waist, fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your legs before working on his own clothes. The windows began to fog up, small squeaks of the BMW echoing into the rain of the night.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you, baby?" He said, pulling his jeans off of him before crossing his arms at his waist, hunched over to pull off the material of his button up. Your fingers went up to graze over his chest, feeling the dusting of hair under your touch.

The lack of light in the car allowed you no mercy, the glint of dimmed moonlight catching his eye. Your mouth was dropped open, feeling his heavy weight per you as his clothed manhood rubbed over your core.

Returning his mouth to your neck, he began to kiss down the expanse of your skin, goosebumps in its wake. You gripped his tendrils of hair between your fingers, moaning as he pushed you up the seat.

Your head was pressed against the glass, eyes closed in bliss as he pressed small kisses to the space below your belly button. His breath was hot, tongue darting out to lick against the pubic bone, his finger tips stretched over the plane of skin.

Your underwear was pulled down, your hips being ushered upwards as the material slid down your thighs. A kiss was pressed to your clit, your thighs opening as a gasp escaped your mouth, head smacking against the glass once more.

"Look at me, princess," you heard Steve whisper into the night, you shaking your head as your eyes were squeezed shut. You felt him breathe against the heat between your legs, Steve pressing another kiss to you.

"Sweetheart..." He warned, moving to sit up in the vehicle. Before he could make a move, you shot open your eyes, looking down into his dark brown. A smirk was present on his face, eyes filled with arousal as he nodded in approval at the eye contact.

His tongue darted out to lick at you, running languidly as it dipped between your folds. You mewled under his touch, struggling to keep your eyes open as he continued to please you.

His face grew more and more wet, his tongue dipping in and out of your sex as he maintained eye contact. Hand leaving your hip, he pressed a finger to your entrance, dipping it in as a shout escaped you. One of your hands pawed at the window, hips moving against his face as your chased the pleasure he was giving you.

"Steve," you drawled out, grip tight in his hair as you pulled his face further into you. He sucked at your clit, pumping a finger in and out of you at a steady pace.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he whispered against you, slopping up your wetness as he moved his head side to side. White began to cloud your vision, another finger slipping into you as he picked up the pace.

The spot inside of you ached so good, being hit repeatedly as his fingers curled inside of you.

"Steve, I'm gonna-"

He removed himself from you, fingers still moving, paces slower. You whined, the white hot feeling leaving your gut. A smirk covered his face as he leaned up to kiss you, chin wet from your slick.

"Not yet, sweetheart," his kiss was sweet, the taste of you and Steve mixing together as his fingers slowly curled inside of you. It was enough to tease you, keeping you on the edge of your orgasm, wanting more of him in every way possible.

"Steve, please. I need- I need-"

Your words were rambling, as you pulled him into you, fingers scratching at his back. His gaze was almost mocking, eyebrows raised as he took in the pleasure on your face.

"What do you need?" He asked, daring to press a third digit to your dripping entrance. You arched into the touch, feeling the way it poked at you. The burn was harsh, pleasure tickling at your spine, earning another wave of wetness to pool at his fingers.

"I need you, Steve."

"How bad do you need me?" He asked, pushing in the digit even further. Your eyes rolled back, breaking the stare between the two of you. Steve angled your downward, hovering over you as your hair fanned out below you.

His teasing made you even more sloppy, whimpers spilling out of your mouth, fingers clawing at his skin, wetness pressing at the corners of your mouth.

"So bad, Steve." Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes, his fingers leaving your heat as he settled between your thighs. One of his hands hooked under the curve of your knee, angling it upwards as your foot draped over the back of the leather seats.

He kneeled over you, pulling down his own underwear as he took a hold of himself. Pumping slowly over his length, his head prodded at your entrance, teasing you as you fluttered around him.

"I don't think I heard you, sweetheart."

You huffed at him, trying to angle your hips up to ease his way in. A hand shot out, pushing you back down into the seat.

"You're such an ass, Harrington."

"And yet you're still here," he laughed, pressing further against you as he began to push into you. You stretched around him, hands shooting up to grip at anything around you as he moaned deeply.

His breath grew short, small pants escaping his lips as his hips stuttered, pressing his full length into you. Forehead pressed against yours, he leaned down to kiss you, moaning helplessly into your mouth.

Steve was big, his cock nudged deep inside of you, aching as it pressed against your cervix.

He slowly rolled his hips inside of you, cock nudging deeper and deeper as you groaned, hands gripping the globe of his ass. Rearing his hips back, he moaned before snapping them back in, the entirety of the car shaking with the force of it.

He urged animalistic moans out of you, red scratches on his skin as his teeth left bite marks on your skin.

"Feel so good, baby," he moaned, licking over bites marks that he left. The sound of slapping skin echoed through the car, humidity leaving your skin damp.

"So fucking good."

He began a string of words of encouragement, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You felt a feeling like no other bubbling in your core, pressure that felt like exploding as he fucked into you.

So pretty, princess.

You feel so good around me, look what you're-fuck, look what you're doing to me.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you, sweetheart.

This pussy's all mine, baby? All mine.

You moaned at his words, his thrusts becoming more sloppy as your wetness became a slip and slide that he struggled to keep up with. It came to a point where you only felt his head hitting against your sweet spot, blinding white pleasure clouding your mind.

Steve moaned loud, you felt a burst of his warm release inside of you, filling you up as he rammed inside of you.

"Cum for me, princess," he moaned, continuing to fuck you even through his own over stimulation. You screamed out loud as you exploded, wetness spurting out of you as he coughed out a loud, shocked laugh, hand reaching down to rub at your clit.

Arching your back, you moaned through it, feeling extremely lightheaded as he massaged you. His seats were a mess, dripping with your own release as you pushed him away from you. Removing himself from you, he sat back, admiring the way you laid there, spent.

"Well, that's a first," he laughed, reaching down to grab his underwear to wipe down the liquid. You blushed, hand coming up to cover the redness at your cheeks.

"Shut up, Harrington," you giggled, breathlessly as you felt him wipe you down. He pulled you up to a sitting position, pulled into his side as you winced at the soreness in your legs.

He frowned, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he rubbed the palms of his hands over your arms.

"You alright, princess?" He whispered into your hairline, covering you with his discarded sweater. You nodded, leaning your head back so you could look into his eyes.

They were filled with a warmer emotion, much different than the previous look he had. His hair fell over his forehead, bed head wild as he scanned your features.

"Does this mean we're friends now?" He asked you, smile tugging at his mouth as his thumb found its way over your cheek. It pushed at your bottom lip, parting your lips as it pressed inside, lightly brushing against your tongue.

It was your turn to laugh, rolling your eyes as you took a good look at him. He was spent, bruised and breathless, hope lingered in his eyes as he awaited your answer.

"You tell me, Steve." You said, pressing a kiss to his mouth again. He moaned again, cock stirring once more as your lips met. You both pulled away to look down at it, the dripping head leaking as it began to harden again.

You laughed, noticing the way his chest began to rise and fall shallowly.

"Fuck, princess," he groaned, head leaning back against the seat. His eyes fluttered shut. "You're going to fucking kill me."

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open.

AN: I love mean!Steve, I am sorry. I promise I'll have him as a sweetheart one of these days. This took forever for me to write, so let me know what you think?

[itsbeeble]

TRY HARD

SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst

PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)

WC: 8.7k (oops)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff

A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.

The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you. 

And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel. 

“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin. 

“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff. 

“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.” 

“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.” 

“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?” 

“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”

“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”

“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.

“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“Please don’t—”

“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”

“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand. 

College Hunks Hauling Junk!

Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)

Scan HERE to book your appointment!

“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?” 

He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.” 

“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?” 

“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.

This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)

“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.” 

You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier. 

“I’m good, thanks.”

The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room. 

Fucking try hard.

The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers. 

At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you? 

Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.

“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl? 

“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back. 

“Listen, stripper boy—”

“Juyeon—” 

“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain. 

“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”

“Stripper boy,” you warn.

“…is that there’s a chance?”

“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.

“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”

“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff. 

“Pretty girl.”

“Because you are a pretty girl.” 

“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it. 

“And then…?” He teases. 

“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”

You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles. 

“Just someone I know.” 

“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl. 

“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”

The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks. 

“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal. 

It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.

For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you. 

That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.

It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him. 

“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather. 

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.

“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze. 

“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff. 

“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers. 

“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.

“Do you have anywhere that you go?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.” 

“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first. 

“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment. 

“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile. 

“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?” 

“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”

“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?” 

You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.

“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches. 

“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?

“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”

“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”

“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable. 

“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.” 

“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”

“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue. 

“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”

“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle. 

“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.

Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him. 

“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place. 

“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket. 

His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made. 

The bed.

The one bed in the room. 

“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.

“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth. 

“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.

“Then where am I gonna sleep?” 

“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?” 

“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.

“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?” 

You stare at him for a moment.

Then another.

And then another.

And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you. 

“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.” 

“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?” 

“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?” 

“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.

Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—

Wait.

…

Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart. 

He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.

It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.

He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over. 

Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out. 

Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him. 

Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat. 

He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.

It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart. 

God, he’s so fucked.

"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you. 

Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay? 

“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.” 

Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought. 

“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand. 

“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand. 

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”

“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”

“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.” 

“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.

“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs. 

“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side. 

“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?” 

“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him. 

“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.

“You made fun of me!” 

“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”

“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.” 

“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”

“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”

“I do not.” You groan. 

“You do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no—” 

Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest. 

You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?

Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him. 

You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance. 

Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine. 

Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did. 

And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly. 

“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”

“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.

“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”

It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you. 

He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.

“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.” 

“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together. 

“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it. 

“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”

“True.” He nods and lays back down.

“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”

“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”

“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”

“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that. 

“Oops…” 

“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.” 

When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon. 

Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.

“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”

It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?

There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—

You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks. 

“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him. 

“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—” 

“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”

“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”

Plan A is a bust, then. 

Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out. 

Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door. 

Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon. 

“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?” 

Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.” 

“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.” 

“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”

“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”

“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”

“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”

“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” 

“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?” 

There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.

“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you. 

“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?” 

He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides. 

“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.” 

“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”

“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours. 

Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your. 

This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin. 

Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room. 

“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away. 

“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response. 

“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!” 

“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.

“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.” 

You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him. 

“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?” 

There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that. 

With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot. 

“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again. 

You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own? 

“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.” 

You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you. 

“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand. 

He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you. 

“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth. 

“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.” 

His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction. 

“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy. 

“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”

“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”

“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body. 

Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him. 

You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. 

“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?” 

“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms. 

When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips. 

His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists. 

“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest. 

“That’s what you get for making me wait.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”

“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”

“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.

“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.

“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”

“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully. 

“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.

“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.

“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."

“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.

"Does it matter?"

"I mean...I guess not?"

"Exactly."

“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.

“Fuck, no.”

“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”

“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”

“Not at all, boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“…Try-hard.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[livinghostly]

a family forged in curses – satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorry i haven't been writing work has been burning me out and i've been playing the sims in my free time to cope wc: 3.2k you and satoru get called to the office after an incident with megumi at school. fluff, mama bear reader, talks of child neglect ((no one is neglected)), tsumikiii and megumiii best siblings. think i went off too hard with the principal idk why i was pressed

satoru gojo sat in one of the stiff chairs of the principal’s office. heavy glands of sweat formed on his temple and slipped down to the hem of his uniform shirt. he braced the clamminess of his hands against the curve of the leather armrest. the air was thick, and as his chest heaved he inhaled the tension that constricted his throat with a tight burn. the fear was unfamiliar, spurring on the unsettling agitation of his stomach.

megumi was seated behind him, seemingly just as terrified– his eyes blown wide in horror as he stared at the black and blue knuckles laid in his lap. there was a dried bloodstain on his thumb, taunting him. he covered it with his opposite hand. 

it was a nice day outside, the sun was shining and it wasn’t too hot or too cold. sunlight filled the room and reflected off of the finish of the principal’s wooden desk.

“these recent developments in megumi’s behavior, truly, are just detestable. i truly can’t say i’ve seen anything like it in the years i’ve worked at this school.”

satoru’s eyes flickered to you, seated closest to the door. your hands were neatly clasped together over your crossed legs, posture straight as if it’d be graded. there was an attempt to portray yourself with amiableness, but he caught the disgust in your eyes. he’d seen it before, when making contact with the blood of a curse, the times utahime tried to cook for faculty parties, when satoru himself shoved his overseas souvenirs in your face that were way too sweet to be considered edible. though, they paled in comparison to the rage you seeped now. your smile was relaxed, polite, but the rest of your face was pinched with frustration. the temptation of smoothing over the space between your eyebrows tugged at his fingertips, but was pushed to the side as he watched the air around you turn to steam. 

on the way in you passed the nurse’s office. with a glance you caught on to the fact that there were a handful of middle schoolers sporting the spoils of megumi’s martial arts training. they were older, bigger, with teary eyes and blubbering incoherently about the recent string events to the staff. among them, tucked in the corner, was a kid much smaller and seemed to meet a different fate. he hugged his knees to his chest and stared longingly at the wall. there were a few scratches on his forehead and a crack in the lens of his glasses.

“it’s my understanding that megumi doesn’t have many friends here, and i’m afraid further acts of delinquency will only disconnect him from his peers.” the principal inhaled deeply. “it’s safe to say he already is considered a disgrace of some sort. his own sister seems to avoid him in the halls.”

your chest bobbed with slow, calming breaths. despite that, your tone was harsh, “i don’t mean to interrupt, but from my understanding, megumi stepped in on another student who was forced to eat pavement in the courtyard.”

megumi visibly winced at your inflection, curling himself into his seat a bit more and tucking his hands under his thighs. in the back of his mind, he knew he’d do it again. but he would do anything to prevent you from showing up to his school like this. the first few times an incident like this happened, it had been gojo alone who was called (he was much closer, with you being sent off on missions. and the staff preferred to speak with another teacher– it would be sound logic if it wasn’t gojo).

gojo, who nodded absentmindedly to the concerns of the staff and took megumi out for ice cream after. ice cream for himself, really– megumi’s appetite was usually flushed out by his embarrassment as soon as they left the office. he would probe gently at megumi’s antics, and conclude their outing by promising to downplay when speaking to you later.

the principal was a stout man, before you sat down you caught the slight wind of his feet swinging back and forth behind his desk. there was a disconnect between where the part in his hair once was and where the shiny toupee settled on his head. every so often, he scratched it with uncertainty and tousled his ‘hair’ into sticking in different directions.

“that is… handled–”

“because he handled it.” you said sharply, dragging your smile to your features again. the principal was seeing through it much more now. 

he sighed. “i called you here more to discuss the state of megumi’s relationships.”

“and how is this relevant to the incident at hand?” you spoke slowly, nodding your head forward as if to say: choose your next words wisely. 

“well, it’s hardly isolated. in most situations like these, the root cause stems from home life.” he rushes out his words, his accusatory stare turning to one of caution as he meets your eyes again. not so much for your sake, but for his. “to be frank, i don’t believe he’s receiving the right attention at home.”

there was a quiet shuffle outside, against the office door. out of your peripheral, you watched as a shadow was cast over the sliver of light peeking through the bottom by the squeaky rubber of what you knew were two pink tennis shoes. 

your jaw, if possible, tensed even more. megumi’s head snapped to you, catching the slightest tick as you jutted your chin in the direction of the principal. once he wasn’t so taken by fear, he could appreciate your ability to contain the cursed energy that flowed through you. he was unable to detect even a rouse of energy, whereas his nerves manifested in the palms of his fists with an unruly flame licking his forearms. beside him, he sensed the presence of gojo’s infinity, activated on pure reflex as his body recognized the looming hostility in the atmosphere.

“i have to say i disagree–” your head tilted to the side, and you ignored the loud gulp of your counterpart. 

“i expected as much. it’s my understanding that neither of you are all that present at home, it’s been said you both take long trips out of town for your work? is that true? have you considered the effects this has on megumi and tsumiki? i’ve heard she often–”

in an instant, your pupils shrank themselves into the size of needles, the color of your eyes remaining concentrated with anger. the muscles around your eyes twitched as you fought off the indignant expression that threatened to reveal itself.

“and i find this an inappropriate conversation to broach with megumi in the room,” your voice raised slightly as you cut him off. “there is a time, a place, and a counselor more suited for this discussion– and you’ve overlooked every measure and jumped to the conclusion he’s neglected? and from what, exactly? things that have ‘been said’ on campus grounds, by other children? rumors? i’m ashamed to see the lack of forethought prior and instead you jump to scrutinize blindly.”

every word was charged with venom, further filling the office space with an uncomfortable strain at their muscles. satoru winced, sliding his palms over the armrest to relieve himself of the sticky sweat he’d accumulated– and he had unconsciously squeezed the metal into a new shape. his chest was tight as you sucked the air from his lungs and used it to break down the principal with the eloquence of your words.

“it speaks to the reputation you’ve accrued, though. i expected as much.”

“excuse me–!”

you raised your palm. “i’m not sure i can. you summon us to an office to insult us and insunitate we aren’t parenting our son, not even present in his life, and on top of it have the gall to call him a delinquent?”

you rose to your feet, narrowed eyes still settled on the man in front of you. megumi and satoru were quick to rise with you, unsteady hands settling on their chairs to prevent them from hitting the floor. the principal went ignored as he urged satoru with his eyes to speak up, to put a stop to the scene before him. unfortunately for him, satoru’s eyes were trained on you with unwavering loyalty, waiting with baited breath for your next move. 

the principal faced his palm to you, gesturing for you to sit. “miss y/l/n–”

“it’s gojo.” you snagged your jacket from the armrest, glowering eyes promptly cutting him off. he gawked like a fish out of water, a thin layer of sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead. “you better update your damn records before the next time i’m back here.”

you opened the door swiftly, catching tsumiki side-stepping at the last second to feign innocence. a futile attempt, you both know, as she reddens with embarrassment and turns her head with a lingering pout.

following you into the empty halls of the middle school was like a breath of fresh air for satoru and megumi, the cool atmosphere consoling them from the warping heat of your vexation. the raven-haired boy gravitated to his sister as they shared a concerned expression, your unaccustomed anger driving knots into their stomachs. your silence was deafening, the only sound being the rapid thumps of your footsteps overshadowing the entourage of much quieter ones behind you.

satoru fell into step with you, slipping his glasses down to the tip of his nose as he observed. it was in his nature to poke the bear, to push and push and push until it broke, and he would relish in the chaos that followed. however, since you were thrust upon his life his mind was overridden with an instinct to preserve your open heart laid bare before him, to ease your tensions and give until there was nothing left of him. to pull you closer and closer until you were one.

at your wish, he’d part the seas and move mountains and throw himself across every puddle in between for you to walk on.

“tsumiki, megumi, can you go get your stuff from your lockers?” your tone softened, despite the crinkle you still held between your eyebrows. even as your anger dissipated, your frustrations lingered like the kindling of a fire ready to light itself again.

they nodded fervently, disappearing down one of the hallways with quick footsteps. satoru kept himself in line with you as you approached the vestibule of the school entrance, a delicate hand finding your wrist and fingers pressing gently into your palm. 

he closed the distance, leaning into you. his voice ghosted the shell of your ear as he teased, “you know, seeing you get all riled up was kind of hot.”

you scrunched your nose, biting back a smile. you didn’t have to look at him to know he was wiggling his eyebrows. unfortunately, even the days you tried to wallow in your anger he was there to sweep it away. “yeah, right. that’s why you were shaking in your boots.”

“shaking? me?” his free hand splayed against his chest and he looked to the ceiling with a roll of his eyes. “only out of concern for that poor principal.”

“you don’t think he deserved it?”

“i think you went too easy on him.” satoru smirked. it was your turn to roll your eyes. 

the two of you fell quiet again, satoru with an unrelenting stare. you finally met his eyes as he silently wished for, he poured admiration into his gaze and hopes you would let it cling to you in the way he was desperate to with his own arms.

your eyebrows narrowed again as a heavy could hung over your heade. as you began to reflect, your shoulders sagged under the weight of your thoughts. “he’s wrong though, right?” 

satoru forced you to take a proper hold of his hand, squeezing as you averted your gaze. 

“of course he’s wrong, we’re great to that little brat.” he threw his arm up in exaggeration, his body closely following as it wrapped itself around your shoulders like it had a mind of its own. there’s a comment lingering on the tip of his tongue, he doesn’t utter it, knowing it’s stinging the back of your mind as well– it was either us or the zenin clan. “both of them. if they had any issues i’m sure they would’ve ran away already.”

you frowned at him. long ago, when satoru had first dragged them into your life, the fear loomed over you daily. the possibility of them running away, deciding the streets would be better than two crazed strangers that spoke of monsters and cursed energy, had constricted your muscles with fear to the point of physical exhaustion. 

you always tormented yourself with the question if they really liked living with you, being raised by you despite the chaos of jujutsu (and the excruciating taunts of satoru gojo). 

come to think of it, you don’t know the last time something like that crossed your mind. 

“really. you’re doing a great job, you always have. especially considering our…” he lowered his voice to a playful whisper, “unconventional circumstances.”

“do you think they want to leave?”

“not a chance. i’m sure they’re siphoning money out of my bank accounts as we speak, and they’ll use me ‘til i die.”

you smiled, shaking your head. the fear in your composure was beginning to resolve, as you melted into the warmth of his hand. he took that as his invitation to reel you in closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. he reached forward and gently pressed his thumb into the space between your eyebrows, satisfying the urge that had been buzzing his fingertips for what felt like forever. pride swelled in his chest when he pulled his hand away and you relaxed, your expression no longer holding on to your sorrows.

for good measure, he placed a sloppy, wet kiss in your cheek that you squealed at. he grinned as you tried pushing him away through your laughter, slapping against his chest– a futile attempt as he only tightened his grip on you and pulled you impossibly closer to land another one on your opposite cheek. 

“you– are so– annoying–!” you claimed through giggles, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. his slobber came with it, all that remained being the hot flush of embarrassment.

“how could you wipe away my love so easily?” he pouted. he began to dip you– or rather, you began to dip yourself as he leaned closer and closer. 

“we’re at a school, there could be children around.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, dangerously close to being horizontal. 

“so? at some point they take a sex ed class, right?”

“satoru!”

after scurrying through the halls, tsumiki watched with a bored stare as megumi stretched for the top shelf of his locker for his textbooks, her arms crossed as she leaned against the cream locker next to his. he still had to rise to his tippy toes, being a little less than a head shorter than her. she heard that boys hit their growth spurts later and it was a lot more sudden, she wondered if he’d end up taller.

he slipped each book into the backpack hanging half-zipped on his shoulder at a leisure pace. his pinched expression had a striking similarity to the one you held barreling out of the office, though he held less anger, and he seemed disconnected from his surroundings. there was a fog over his eyes while he mulled over his thoughts.

she rolled her eyes at the mysterious demeanor he fought so hard to maintain. she believed he probably thought he seemed cool that way– too cool to express his vulnerability.

“so, she called you her son.”

megumi glanced at her with a quick side-eye, pausing the rough shove of his textbook into his bag. as much as he wished to stay reserved and withdrawn from the rest of the world, she always seemed to know what he was thinking. annoyance weighed in his chest.

“okay, so?”

she looked at him expectantly. “so, how do you feel about it?”

“i feel fine.”

“are you going to say anything to her?”

he rolled his eyes. “it was a slip of the tongue, tsumiki. there’s nothing to say.”

she glared for a brief moment, before reaching for the last book at the top of his locker. it was tucked in the corner too far for him to grab himself, she wondered how he got it up there in the first place.

tsumiki handed it to him, and he begrudgingly accepted it. as much as he hated asking for help, he hated her offering without asking much more. 

“you know that’s not true. i heard her talking in there, she didn’t stutter once. she knew what she was saying, even if she was pissed off.”

he was quiet, shutting the metal door with a soft click that contrasted his hardened expression. or, the attempt he could muster with reddened cheeks and a gentle understanding in his gaze. guilt filled his stomach, you were really pissed. “so, what, you want me to start calling her mom?” he continued with a mumble, “i’m not calling gojo dad, ever.”

tsumiki didn’t point out that he implied he was open to calling you mom, instead turning her head with a proud smirk. ”pfft, he’d never let you live it down.”

the pair fell into stride in the hallway, soft footsteps echoing in the halls. megumi caught the glances of his peers in their classrooms, peaking into the hall window with curiosity wondering why they’d be roaming.

“maybe we get her a mother’s day card this year,” tsumiki pondered out loud, reflecting on the day in years past. thank you cards had sufficed thus far, despite the lingering tension around the holiday and the bouquets thrown on your dining room table, none of you ever broached the topic of motherhood.

megumi stayed quiet, looking out the window and ignored the growing grin of his sister. she knew well the lack of his pushback might as well have been him jumping up and down with glee. the picture drew out a muffled giggle that made his cheeks burn.

“do you think she’s mad?” he asked out loud. he knew you were. as long as you’d been in their lives there was an everlasting sweetness of your composure, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. 

tsumiki laughed loudly now, though short-lived as they turned the corner and spotted you at the end of the hall. your hair was a bit tousled and your husband had his arms wrapped around you pathetically, whining about something she was sure you could all agree was insignificant. you stood tall to the best of your ability, being weighed down by the stature of a 6’3” man.

your eyes snapped to them with a natural instinct, spotting the slightest figure of your dependents, your kids, and keeping a watchful eye. your gaze softened as tsumiki grinned, grabbing her brother's arm and pulling him to match her quickening pace.

she was always quite perceptive. from afar, she detected the warmth of your admiration reaching out with tentative fingers carefully beckoning them into your embrace. 

“i think she’s over it.”

(p.s. you weren’t– megumi was on dish duty and had to help tsumiki with her english homework that week.)

[topherwrites]

𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛, 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙

summary - a saturday morning, and I love you on the tip of both your tongues.

pairing - bob floyd x (gn!)reader

word count - 2.1k

rating - nsfw content, 18+, mdni!

content warnings & tags - no use of (y/n) / fluff / slightly h*rny fluff / bob's love language being acts of service / the peak fantasy of homeownership / bob floyd being the ideal man™ / lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: time for my bi-yearly fic drop, lol! i wrote this in semi-conjunction with this moodboard. (a.k.a i started this months ago.) everyone who said they want to live in it... same. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!

TOP GUN MASTERLIST / LIBRARY BLOG

Your boyfriend has disappeared.

Even before your eyes are open and your brain is semi-functioning, you feel the lack of his presence, the sheets next to you devoid of his usual space heater existence. You touch the left side—his side—double checking—hoping, really—that you won’t have to peel yourself out of bed to search for him.

A cascade of orange and pink spills through your curtains, painting your room in soft light, letting you know it has to be before seven. With a groan, you check your clock, confirming your suspicions. The time reads a quarter past six—far too early for you.

Not nearly as agonizing for him, one of those irritating early riser types, but Bob is diligent about letting you know when he’s leaving for his early morning runs, a kiss planted to your temple, and a ‘be back soon’—just a little moment in case you have to leave for work before he gets back.

But it’s Saturday, and you had plans of lazing about in bed until at least eleven, preferably with him. 

Your brow creases as you push up onto your elbows, slowly blinking around your room as if your boyfriend will just appear in front of you, and you won’t have to pull yourself out from under the covers to try to coax him back to bed.

As of late, it’s like he gets struck by a whim, and his body is overcome with the need to check it off a list, unable to rest until he does—changing your oil at ten o’clock at night, fixing the light in your fridge that flickers before he heads off for a run, trying to fix the leaky pipes under your en-suite sink—he did eventually give up on that one and call a plumber. Thank god.

Part of you has just taken it as part of his job and personality—he likes getting up as the sun does, he likes fixing things, and his job is a stressor, you're sure. But it doesn't feel work-related, so part of you is beginning to wonder if it’s you. 

An ugly little thought that you can recognize has no factual basis. He’s never been anything but honest with you, open and vulnerable, even when you’ve guarded yourself.

As a result, you tuck it away, considering that he’s off on another one of his little quests. They’re things that always make you feel cared for and thought about—weeding or checking the pressure on your tires or rearranging his kitchen so you can reach the things you frequently use.

So, as you begin to pressure yourself to leave your cocoon of early morning sleepiness, a quiet metal-against-metal clattering floats down the hall and through the crack in your bedroom door, catching your attention.

Slipping out of bed, you pad down the hall, sleep shirt brushing your thighs. Growing nearer to the sound of the soft noise—clearly being sensitive to try not to wake you—-you catch soft guitar strings and the twang of John Prine and Iris DeMent coming from your grandma’s old record player.

You cringe as your foot touches the cold tile lining the floor and immediately regret not rummaging around for your slippers.

You find Bob there, posted at the counter as he cuts something at a butcher board, only wearing the sweats he went to bed in. He's still warm despite the lack of clothing and the countertop fan blowing at him.

At the arch entry, you stop and watch him for a moment, entranced by the way his broad shoulders and the muscles of his back move with the motion—by the sight of him in your kitchen. Something so distinctly domestic and intimate about it.

Completely focused on his task, he doesn't hear you come up behind him. He slightly jumps under your touch as your hands slip around his middle, his stomach beneath your fingertips.

He makes a short noise of surprise that washes into a gentle greeting, his voice low, “Hey, sweetheart.”

You press your lips to his shoulder blade, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.

You've clearly ruined some sort of surprise, but you can't feel too bad at the sight of his eyes still clouded by sleep and the odd angles his hair sticks up.

Keeping his eyes on the cuts he’s making, Bob briefly twists around to press a kiss to your temple as he mumbles, “Go back to bed.”

You just hum, beginning to press kisses to the freckles that scatter along his shoulders, deepened by the tan he’s obtained from working in the flowerbeds that sit alongside your front door. The beds were slightly tragic before you began dating, some sort of sparse bushes planted there. They were alive at one point, you assume, but lying half dead and bare when you bought the place.

In no time at all, he had the beds torn up and replaced with bright white hydrangeas that now sit in full bloom under your front windows. Pink zinnias, sunny yellow goldenrods, and pale milkweeds—all chosen by him because they attract monarch butterflies during their migration—flank either side of the brown brick pathway. Cheek pressed to his skin; you cast a glance outside just as a small orange and black blur flits by the glass.

“So… where is it?”

Chewing on the inside of his lip, Bob casts a lost glance around the plant nursery’s vast outdoor gardens—bright pops of color among vast expanses of green, the high afternoon sun beating down on them—the acreage of it is astounding and certainly a workout.

You’re supposed to be picking up some mulch for the beds—but you keep getting sidetracked. Half your fault; you beeline for every slightly pretty plant, balancing it on the cart that’s rapidly becoming overloaded. The wheels digging heavily into the gravel pathways, little trenches left in your wake.

It’s early days with Bob Floyd, but he’s sweet and helpful and easy to get free labor out of—a big plus in your book.

On your first date, when he walked you to your front door, sweet and gentlemanly, you made a quick joke, a callback to your hinge profile. There, you had answered the prompt, I'm looking for…, with, ‘someone to put together my ikea bookshelf. seriously.’

Because, after two unsuccessful attempts to put it together and three months of it languishing in the corner of your living room, you were tired of feeling a pang of guilt every time you piled another book on top of the precarious stack teetering next to your reading chair.

Of course, on the date, you didn't actually expect him to do it. You made the joke as a way to test the waters, to see if he was open to coming inside without fully putting yourself out there that way.

But then he followed you in, sat himself down cross-legged on your living room rug, and got to work. You stood there in the doorway for a moment, warming even further to him. 

You poured a glass of wine for each of you, and watched his hands as he set joints together and tightened screws with a furrow between his brows. And despite his serious focus on the job, he continued asking you questions about your taste in books, your favorite bands growing up, what you liked about San Diego as you sat near—your only real contribution being the wine, simple conversation, and occasionally handing him a screw.

He’d finished near midnight, asked if you wanted help sorting your books, and when you said no, already mildly abashed at the fact that you’d set him to work on your first date, he’d given you a kiss goodnight on your cheek—chaste and unpresuming—and left it at that.

You’d fallen for him a little bit then and there.

Blinking, he stares down at the map once again—same furrow in his brow—turning it in his hands. Not sounding any more sure than he was a second ago, he points slightly westerly of you, “That way. I think.”

It draws a slight laugh from you. You lightly hip-check him, teasing over your shoulder, “Come on, farm boy, you’re supposed to be helping me.”

The scent of lemon carries inside from the open window over the sink, summer ripening the tree planted in your yard. That’s also when you spy past his shoulder a small stack of the same yellow fruit on the counter. A pancake crackles away on the stove.

Your voice is quiet—reticent to break the seal of this hushed moment—as you ask, “What are you making?”

Hands wandering mindlessly, your touch follows the trail of hair from his belly button, fingers sneaking only just under the waistband of his sweats, loosely hung on his hips. 

He seems to part with the idea of whatever he’s doing being a surprise, clear that you’re not going to accede to his request and tuck yourself back into bed, too awake now to do so.

“Pancakes,” he reveals, continuing to whip, “with lemon ricotta whipped cream.”

“Trying out a new recipe?”

His throaty laugh reverberates into your chest, shaking you. Your smile hikes higher before you even know what he’s laughing about—just enjoying the sound, the melody and the slight grit to it.

“Emphasis on trying,” he says, scooping a bit of the whipped cream onto his finger, offering it to you to taste. “Would you?”

You draw his finger into your mouth. It’s slightly sweet with a burst of tang, the sugar and cream mellowing out the sharper edges of the lemon flavor. A success, you think. As you draw back, you flash your gaze up and find his eyes unabashedly caught on your mouth.

You pull off and without breaking eye contact, breathily tease, “Lech.”

With a slight flush to his ears and cheeks, he laughs and leans in, nose brushing yours as he presses his lips to yours. His mouth slants over yours, insistent, his hand finds its way to cradle your jaw, tilt your head just right. It catches your breath, makes your toes curl against the tile.

You're still not entirely used to this, the sweetness of Bob Floyd. His eyes are soft as he pulls back, his thumbs sweeping along your cheeks. He clicks his tongue, cheekily muttering, “I think it’s good.”

His lips move to your cheek next, mumbling between a kiss there, “You're distracting.”

The gesture, so simple, makes your heart flip.

By this stage of dating you're usually spiraling, finding reasons that it won’t work out and tallying up slights so when the expected happens, you're not blindsided. Like it's a game you’ll win; perpetually preparing yourself for heartbreak. 

And it’s often been easy, dating men who were noncommittal or uninterested or flippant with affection made it so. They were easy to write off— jettison them from your life and think, onto the next. 

But everything has changed with him. There’s an ease to the intimacy, a frankness to him that makes that defense mechanism very difficult to muster. You're… settled.

And it should scare you, the way your heart is fully on the line, but then you catch sight of one of his dogeared-to-hell paperbacks in the living room or the little date night notes he leaves scribbled on the calendar that hangs next to the fridge or his mismatched colorful socks mixed in with your laundry and it doesn't. As simple as that.

You haven’t said the L word yet. But it’s there, dancing on the tip of your tongue every time you look at him.

Bob is near certain that this is love.

No, he supposes, he is certain. He’s mulled this particular topic over too much in his mind not to be.

It's love—the big kind. He’s just not certain when he should let you in on that fact. Release it out to you and see if it comes back returned.

In the past five months he’s undertaken a million little projects to keep his hands, mouth, and mind busy, working out all that excess energy. All he’s doing is kicking the can down the road, trying to find “the right time”. 

He's gotten close more than once, yet every time it catches in the back of his throat, his tongue an uneasy ally in the venture. The words, three simple ones, are left as something uncomfortable to swallow down at each abandoned attempt.

And yet, virtually all that discomfort is eased by the way you say his name, catching his attention when they nearly slip, nearly an endearment all on its own. 

His call sign being his name means that Bob hears it alot, from a considerable amount of mouths. Shouted, whispered, whooped. In a variance of forms, he's heard it. But it's never sounded so important, so weighty, then it does as it falls from your lips. Like you're speaking a dialect only the two of you hold knowledge of, his name equivalent to the word in the forefront of his mind.

"Bob."

He hums, certain that his face gives him away; 'Whipped' as Mickey called it or 'in love' as his mother did the first time you met.

This is the sort of thing that his parents have, the ease, the humor, the affection. It permeates every space of his life, the knowledge that you're here, with him, choosing each other easily.

Eight letters.

I love you.

He lets temptation run wild, hands glancing down your back and tugging you right into him. He takes a moment just to look at you, your bright eyes, and the sweet shape of your lips as you smile up at him. Your hands slide around his neck, gently teasing the hair at the nape of his neck, his stomach swooping at the feeling.

Three syllables.

I love you.

He lets them swirl in his head, settle in the back of his throat as he prepares his tongue.

Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and he opens his mouth, readying himself, just as your lips part, and twice at once, I love you, becomes tangible reality.

Like a held breath released, a smile, broad and uncontrollable, spreads over his face, mirrored on yours as everything comes into view.

Just as Bob leans in to brush his lips against yours, higher than he’s ever felt, the smell of rapidly burning batter hits his nose. 

"Oh, shoot."

a/n: thank you for reading!

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji with a nympho reader. includes three hc's & eac accompanied w little drabbles.

word count. 940

note. uhm, part 2 of this, i think. based on an anon request.

tags. dom!toji fushiguro x nympho!female reader. smut \\ mdni. dirty talk, p in v -> unprotected, hair pulling, degredation (reader gets called dumb, nasty), teasing, oral; m. receiving, exhibitionism kinda, lots of cum (and creampies), daddy kink once, toji takes pictures / videos, reader gets called 'doll, princess, pretty, cute.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 knows you can’t keep your hands to yourself. no matter where you are or who you’re with – when you see your boyfriend do anything remotely attractive, you’re instantly turned on. the tingles you feel in your lower abdomen accompanied by the throbbing in your crotch are enough to make you go insane. toji either notices this and teases you, or deliberately ignores your squirms and shy whispers that try to catch his attention. 

“can’t wait now can you, princess?” toji’s hand tightly grips your hair, pulling it to try and hold you back from wrapping your mouth around his cock. your watery eyes are entirely focused on its erect form in front of you, practically drooling at the thought of sucking your boyfriend off. frankly, you couldn’t care about your family members who are waiting for your return in the living room down the hall. your needs were present in this small space - the bathroom - with you kneeling before the man you desire.  “fuck.” toji takes a deep breath, his dick twitching at the sight of you looking so cockdrunk when you hadn’t even gotten a taste. he is leaning against the bathroom wall with his head thrown back, adam's apple bobbing in his throat with the amount of grunts he’s trying to stifle, the moment you start sucking him off. one of his veiny hands held the back of your head, nearly forcing the tip of his cock to hit the deepest parts of your mouth whilst he kept his other hand over his mouth. he loves the fact that you enjoy pleasuring him – your addiction to him and his body never fails to make him feel light-headed.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 never denies you pleasure. it’s like you’re subconsciously hypnotising him and making him obsessed with you. he doesn’t have the needs to jerk off by himself anymore when you’re available — he can just ask you if you want to and you’re ready to do whatever. toji truly appreciates it and never forgets to return the favor one way or another. there’s no better way to reward you than to grant you the satisfaction you deserve.

“easy there, doll.” toji sighs. he watches as you lose control on top of him - eyes rolled back as you moan so deliciously. your boyfriend gets off to your noises and the way you try to satisfy both him and yourself at the same time. you lift your hips and slam them down on his cock repeatedly, his heavy balls slapping against the fat of your ass with each thrust. you could feel toji’s cum - the earlier loads he’s dumped in your needy pussy - coat his dick a translucent white. his big thighs and pelvis are sticky with a mixture of your bodily juices. you shake your head and babble something in the direction of not being able stop, “feels t-too good. .” “i know, i know.” toji lets out a low chuckle. he didn’t even have to do anything. he lays back against the couch, half-lidded eyes lazily checking your bare figure out, rough hands holding your hair back so it wouldn’t hide your lewd facial expressions from him. you can’t go on forever — he knows and he offers to take over, promises to fuck you so good that it’ll put you right to sleep afterwards, but you stubbornly shake your head. even if you refuse and continue sloppily riding him, toji decides to flip you over anyway.  he hammers his cock into you - leaving you no time to think of anything else. every sweet spot of yours is touched, every inch of your insides is filled and stretched. your desperate moans and squirming body only serve to prove your enjoyment. “look at you. nasty little girl - so fuckin’ desperate for my cock, eh? don’cha worry, I’ll give you it over ‘n over ‘til you pass out on me.” 

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t want to forget those moments where you’re begging him to fuck you. he’s always teasing you, asking you to repeat those sentences in that soft voice of yours over and over. sometimes he’ll even record your cute little begs as he’s fucking you dumb. for. . . personal use.

“whadd’ya say? c’mon, repeat it f’daddy.” toji coos, hips stilling and refusing to move until you repeat those sinful sentences to him. your soft, frustrated cries into the pillow are muffled — you were nearing your long-awaited orgasm before your lover decided to edge you. you sniff and decide to be stubborn back, pushing and pulling your ass back and forth, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. “aht, aht.” toji scoffs at your desperate attempts. he roughly smacks your ass and tugs your head back by your hair. you breathe in the fresh air after your face was buried into the pillow for so long. toji’s face was right next to yours, husky voice whispering into your ear; “i said repeat y’r words to me. or did i fuck ya dumb already?” you shake your head with a pout. everything was too much — in an addictive way. the overstimulation was addicting. the feeling of being used as a cumdump for your lover that night got you saying the filthiest of things. all of them were being recorded by toji; his phone in one hand with the camera pointed down at the way your back was perfectly arched. and your ass covered in cum was also captured on screen. toji wasn’t done with you until his gallery was filled with tons of pictures and videos.

tagging. @redskyvenus @marimogf @satoruhour xx

[sorchathered]

Let’s do IT for our country

Pairing- President!Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- smut smut and more smut, breeding kink, language, mentions of pregnancy, us politics, I think that’s it?

Summary- Robert Floyd had never wanted to be the president, but here in the Oval Office on inauguration night with his First Lady? He could get used to nights like this.

A/N- It’s that time again! Another IBFFM, but this time with an older version of our sexy WSO. Mr. President is about 45 here, his First Lady is in her mid 30’s.

Also it’s @bobgasm ‘s birthday present!! Happy birthday to my precious Steph, love you so much baby!!

For as long as he could remember, Robert Floyd had been told he would be great.

His family name was synonymous with the likes of Kennedy and Roosevelt, the Floyd’s were some of the most influential in political history, and with that came high expectations. You must go to a prestigious college, you must serve your country (whether that be as a civil servant or military member), and you must marry the right kind of person. They talked about it as if they were breeding horses, and it never made any sense to him, so long as he found someone kind and supportive all of the bullshit that his family expected mattered very little to him. He would tick off whatever boxes they wanted, but it would be on his own terms.

He went to the US Naval Academy after high school, refusing to hop onto the Ivy League lifestyle his grandfather so desperately cherished. Moving on to aviation as a WSO and then becoming one of the top 1% in the country in his field. It was a distinguished career to be sure, but he’d been adamant that he had no interest in pursuing a political career, and certainly not the presidency.

He still wasn’t sure what had brought him to this point, or how he’d somehow managed to bag his dream girl in the process. A feisty junior senator from Delaware, good family, strong morals and drop dead gorgeous to boot, you’d been his match in every way. Sure you had hated his guts, he was the golden boy and you had dealt with his kind your whole life. But after a particularly long day in the senate he’d asked you to dinner, and while you’d had half a mind to tell him no the prospect of a free meal wasn’t worth passing up. So in a dingy dive bar with greasy burgers and cheap beer, you took a chance on him and fell ridiculously in love.

Four years had passed since you’d both sat in the creeky wooden booths of that shitty bar, and it felt simultaneously like yesterday and a lifetime ago. His family had pushed him into politics and while he had been adamant in the beginning that he would never pursue the presidency, the world had changed dramatically since he first refused the mantle. He may have hated the pageantry of it all, but at his core he truly did want to help people, and they certainly took notice. He’d run a clean and honest campaign with his best girl by his side, and won in a landslide. Everything moved very quickly from Election Day to Inauguration Day, it almost felt like he had blinked and he was here, wandering the halls of the west wing after skipping out on the last two of 10 gaudy inaugural balls he’d been forced to attend. He’d been going since sunrise and still couldn’t seem to get the jitters under control so he could rest; he suspected it would be quite a while before that feeling went away. Shaky hands moved to open the door to the Oval Office, completely renovated and designed by his beautiful wife to fit his style and personality, you’d made sure he would want for nothing, he’d be spending so much time in this room and it seemed only logical to make it a calm and safe space for him and his thoughts. It felt so much like his office at home, even down to the worn leather chair and the soft scent of sandalwood and tobacco from the candles you bought because it reminded you of him. You had told him you’d be heading to change and wouldn’t be gone long, he had plans to unwind with a bottle of bourbon and maybe a game or three of checkers, but as you slipped into the spacious and hallowed room belonging to the commander in chief, he nearly jolted out of his skin. There you were, his First Lady, in a skimpy little silk robe, intricate updo long gone in favor of soft curls, and the adorable little fuzzy cat slippers that he’d bought you for Christmas.

“Good evening Mr. President” you said with a smirk as you locked the door and padded over to his desk. You’d chosen well, the beautiful mahogany writing table had belonged to Theodore Roosevelt, and while it hadn’t been used in many a president’s term, you had made sure it was painstakingly restored and ready for his first day. Now that you were here, all he could seem to think of is how much fun it might be to test the sturdiness of the surface, perhaps he did need to blow off a little steam after such a stressful day…

“Sweet girl, you do realize there’s cameras everywhere right?” He said as you pushed his chair back just enough to fit between his thighs, very gently sitting on the edge of the antique escritoire. This desk had seen many a scandal, so many historical events, and you were quite sure she should handle the weight of what you had planned next.

“Already got that covered, Phoenix is on surveillance right now, you can go ahead and go dark Nat!” You said in the general direction of where they’d mentioned cameras were placed, a notification on your phone let you know she’d confirmed that the two of you had thirty minutes all to yourselves and you broke out in a blinding grin as you leaned forward to press a kiss to Bob’s jawline. The sharp intake of breath and his hands immediately going to your hips let you know he’d need this just as much as you, it had been embarrassingly long since the two of you had been together, and you filed away the notion that you would need to make sure you had the right security in play to make quickies like this a regular occurrence, policy be damned.

You’d drawn his lips to yours as you untied his tie and began unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt, his hands had drifted to palming your ass as he licked the seam of your mouth, a gasp from you was all he needed to slide his tongue against yours, squeezing you a little more roughly and all but pulling you into the plush office chair.

“Fuck I missed you,” he breathed into your mouth, you’d nearly gotten his dress shirt removed when he slotted his knee between your legs, large hands gripping the back of your thighs as he placed you back on the desk, this time swiping whatever loose papers off the top and sending them cascading across the plush carpet that held the presidential seal. You squealed and giggled, watching with rapt attention as he removed his dress shirt and exposed the defined freckled skin of his arms, pulling his undershirt off with less finesse as it joined the pile of papers on the floor. “I’ve never found a president to be sexy until just this moment, I have to admit, you look damn good in this office, sir” you said as you leaned back on your palms and ogled him, heat crept up his cheeks and chest at your praise, but his eyes had darkened at the honorific, you knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he could feel his dress slacks getting uncomfortably tight as you ran your bare feet up and down the back of his legs.

“You wanna be a good girl for me Madame First Lady? Let me lay you out and devour you where anyone could walk in?” His voice grew impossibly deeper and you let out a whimper in response, shifting to try and get some relief. You did want that, you wanted it so badly you could scream, it was the very thought of being dirty and unladylike for the man you loved that had you so hot and bothered, and he trailed one long finger down your sternum to remove your robe, fire in his eyes as he opened the sash and found you completely bare for him.

“Goddamn it, should have known you’d do this, you know exactly how to wind me up don’t ya? Whole world wants to know how to bring me to my knees and all they’d have to do is weaponize you and this perfect pussy.” He was completely fixated on your arousal glistening between your legs, and while normally you’d let him take his time, you knew it wouldn’t be long before some aid or agent came by to make sure he had everything he needed for the evening. If they only knew.

“Bobby, please? Don’t have a lot of time baby” you said as you squirmed on the polished wood and searched for some kind of relief. He seemed to snap out of his haze as lust clouded eyes fixed on yours, letting his index finger trail down your stomach and through your folds, watching your head fall back and chest heave at his teasing.

“Need to hear you say it sweet girl, you know what I want.” You blushed in earnest, he loved how dirty you could get, but that had always been behind closed doors in the comfort of your own home, you’d be mortified if anyone heard some of the things you’d said in the throes of pleasure; but it was his big day after all. If he wanted it, you’d give him the moon.

“Need your mouth on me Daddy, want you to make me cum and then fuck me with your big dick. Please? Please give it to me, ‘s been too long, fuck - I-“ you babbled at him as he continued to rub that one long finger up and down, it was maddening and had you choking on your words, thankfully he didn’t make you wait, spreading you open and pressing two fingers into you as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your clit. The relief was immediate, you moaned out into the empty room as he went to work on your aching pussy, drawing tight circles with this tongue as he scissored his fingers inside you. It had been weeks and he knew he’d need to get you ready, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going insane over the little noises you made and the iron grip you had on his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bucked up into his pretty face to search for your release.

It was startling how fast he got you there, you were certain you were dripping down onto the desk now, wet smacks and moans coming from between your thighs as you peeked down to look at his deep cerulean eyes. He was too damn good at this and he knew it, had the audacity to wink at you as he nibbled on your clit and with a gasp you came all over his face, watching as he wiped his mouth with his arm and smirking like the cocky bastard he was. He controlled the entire free world now, but he would still consider it his greatest accomplishment that he could render his pretty wife to a babbling needy mess with his tongue. Disheveled looked good on you, blush spread across your cheeks and chest, hair a mess, and your release all over your thighs from what he intended to be one of at least three mind blowing orgasms.

You looped your heavy arms around his neck and kissed him languidly, you didn’t seem to be as worried about the time anymore and for that he was thankful. He wanted to take his time, and if somebody walked in they would find out very quickly to knock, he couldn’t give a shit about anything other than getting his cock inside you.

You knew the rule all too well; no visible marks. It had been that way from the very beginning, which was unfortunate because you wanted so badly to mark his pretty neck up and make sure everyone knew he was yours, but the compromise was that you could leave them anywhere below the collarbone, so as he fished for the condom he’d stashed in his pocket (hoping to end the night just like this), you licked down his neck and began nibbling on the flesh of his pecks, sucking a nipple into your mouth and looking up at him as his jaw went slack. “Oh Christ, you gotta stop that baby or we’ll be finished before we even get started” he panted out and tried not to buck up into you, the hand gripping your thigh was sure to leave a mark but you couldn’t give a shit, there was something so powerful in being able to bring the most powerful man on earth to his knees, and even better knowing that he was insatiable for you.

“Then fuck me Mr. President, and you don’t need that condom either. I think you should put a baby in me, fill me up so good that I’m dripping with you all day tomorrow.” You grinned at him but he looked completely debauched, he ran a hand through his graying sandy locks and blinked down at you, almost at a loss for words.

“You little minx, you’ve been just waiting all day to drop that on me haven’t you? Need me to cum in that pretty pussy and get you good and knocked up? Fuck you’d think it was my birthday or something, I don’t know how I got it so good.” He said as he spread you out and ran his hands all over you, you were whimpering and grinding into him and he was sure he’d pass out if he was any harder, slipping himself out of his briefs and sliding his length through your slick. You were trying hard to be quiet, sure it was late but there was bound to be someone on watch, Bob gripped your chin as he slid into you and kissed you sloppily, all teeth and tongue and moans, shallow thrusts to get you ready turned rough when you sucked his bottom lip and pushed your hips up to take him to the hilt. You gripped the front of the desk behind your head and let him pound you into it, the need for quiet long forgotten as you alternated between crying out and calling him daddy.

It didn’t take him long before he was close, the aftershocks of your second orgasm seemed to keep him gripped so tight that he could barely think straight, he was furiously rubbing your clit to get you there again as he watched tears drip down your flushed cheeks, he’d never forget tonight for the rest of his life. Not all the fanfare, not even the immense weight of the mantle he was about to take, but this moment right here, wrapped up in his gorgeous wife as he fucked her silly in the Oval Office. You wailed out “I’m cumming” as you gripped him tight with your pulsing heat and he tumbled over the edge right along with you, warming you from the inside out as he filled you up.

You cradled his sweaty form in your arms as you both came down from your high, giggles erupting from him as it really set in what you two had done.

“Ah shit, well everyone’s gonna know that we can’t keep our hands to ourselves after this, I imagine the press will have a field day.” He kissed your nose as you grinned at him, both of you still joined together but neither of you ready to separate.

A loud ring came from his phone and it sent a jolt through both of you, wide eyes trained on his as he leaned forward and grabbed it off the hook. His eyes were full of mirth as he nodded his head once, twice and bid them goodnight, pinching your cheek with his free hand before hanging up.

“What was that all about?” You said, trying to push him up so you could get decent and off his desk.

“That was Nat, she said we need to hurry the hell up before me going MIA causes a national emergency.” He was joking of course, but the secret service agents at the door couldn’t look either of you in the eye as you shuffled down the hallway with Bob’s hand in yours, and it was no surprise to anyone when you turned up pregnant by the state of the union.

Tagging- @bobgasm @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @floydsglasses @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sunsetsimpsblog @seitmai @auroralightsthesky @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist

[omitea]

𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 — 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

char. g. satoru x fem! reader

tags. mentions of razors, gojo being a silly dad, you both have a son (don’t let him fool you!). i feel so soft :( not rlly proofread. wc. 0.8k.

notes. ahem, lowkey forgot how to write… lol

you should’ve known something was up the moment you heard hushed mumbles and giggles coming from down the hall. the morning sun shone brightly through the curtains; illuminating the left side of the bed. of course it’s empty, because who else would that muffled voice belong to.

groaning, you rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands— exhaling a warm breath as you slowly sat up. with a quick glance at your phone, you huffed out a sigh of amusement. how is it even possible to be energetic at 7 in the morning…

you groggily let your feet carry you all the way down the hall. the framed family pictures littering the white wall always managed to shape your lips in a smile no matter how many times you passed by.

you stopped just outside the door of the bathroom, feet shuffling as you heard a loud squeal of joy and an ugly snort following soon after. “ssh! ya gotta be quiet or else mama will hear you.” an image of your little boy looking puzzled flashed before your eyes, only making it hard to suppress the giggle wanting to escape your throat.

with a turn of the doorknob, you creaked the door open. and to be honest, nothing could’ve prepared you for the scene happening in front of you. “satoru!,” you gasped, eyes taking in the absolute mess that was created by none other than your husband… maybe son too, but he’s way too young to understand either way.

with an awkward stumble, he moves a step back from the vanity— still keeping a firm hand placed on your son’s back. “what even happened in here?,” you questioned. it was too damn early for this. satoru gulped, looking at anything but you. “we-,” he started before clearing his throat. “i was teaching him how to shave his face.”

you could only deadpan and look at him like he grew two damn heads overnight. “he’s not even one and a half year old yet, satoru,” you said sternly. the white haired man huffed out a dejected sigh, “i know, okay?,” he motioned with his scarred hands. “he has to be prepared for this either way…”

is he serious? it was cute, you admit… but creating such a mess was not needed.

you looked over at your son and the gummy smile he send your way made your heart swell. if it wasn’t for your form leaning again the door, you definitely would’ve melted into a puddle.

the lower half of his chubby face was covered in bubbles. his ‘beard’ bobbing with each movement of his head as he looked between his bickering parents curiously.

a moment of silence bounced off of the four walls before satoru moved to pick the razor back up. it still had the cover on, you noticed. he started lifting his hand to continue where he left off, but got interrupted as soon as you spoke up. “who made this mess?”

if you glanced at your husband a millisecond sooner, you would’ve seen the way his body froze. unfortunately for him though, the little one who was clueless to all this, lifted a small, chubby finger. not only did he start pointing at his father, but he started babbling too. small, white eyebrows furrowing as he tried to get his point across. “bwah, buh!”

satoru looked absolutely horrified as he felt betrayed by his own son. the one that was supposed to have his back. “you promised you wouldn’t snitch!,” he quickly intervened. “i didn’t expect this from my favorite son…”

with arms crossed, he huffed with a small pout on his glossy, pink lips. “he’s your only son, ‘toru.” a heavy sigh escaped his chest while he moved to clean your son’s face with a wet washcloth. “it still hurts, y’know…” so dramatic. “he literally came out of my balls, only for him to stab me in the back?” he continued with each delicate wipe.

you walked towards the two, careful not to slip on the soapy tiles. a quick peek at your son’s big blue eyes, you tilted your head to look at satoru. “how do you think i feel for carrying this adorable human being for nine months…” you paused. “only for him to look like you?” he noticed the way your eyebrows rose, grinning soon after.

“so, what you’re saying is that i’m adorable?” of course would he say that. “don’t worry, sweet cheeks.” satoru pointed to himself with his thumb. “i can use my awesome skills and pop another one into ya!”

you picked your son up and placed a big fat kiss on his rosy cheek. “your papa is so delusional, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.” that only earned a loud gasp and a whine from the lanky man beside you. “not you too!”

ignoring him, you carried on and headed towards the door before sending him a glare. “make sure you clean up everything. and i mean it, satoru.”

turning around he could only widen his eyes and blink. he could’ve sworn he saw the little gremlin grinning up at him as you retreated.

what a fool. you wouldn’t believe him anyway.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !

[xxoxobree]

I Luv Your Girl

Miles G. x Black Fem Reader.

Summary: Miles Being Mr.Stealyourgirl.

WARNINGS: None 😘

Miles walked into school, his head bobbing to the music that flooded his ears through his headphones. He made his way through the busy halls of Visions toward his locker. He got the occasional "hey" from friends that passed by, and he dapped some of them up.

Finally, he reached his locker, letting out a sigh. He took off his headphones and opened the locker. One by one, he stuffed the books he didn't need into the cramped space, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead.

Just as he was engaged in his task, a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Yo, waddup?" Miles turned to his left and saw Ganke walking toward him, leaning nonchalantly on the nearby lockers. A smile spread across Miles' face as he greeted his friend and they went through their intricate handshake.

“Wassup with you bro?”

Laughter erupted from nearby, catching Miles' attention. His eyes followed the sound, and there you were.

Miles felt a weird sensation in his chest as he continued to gaze at you from across the hallway. A feeling he couldn't quite put into words. But before he could fully grasp it, his attention was diverted by the sight of your stupid boyfriend approaching.

His heart sank as he watched your boyfriend plant a peck on your cheek. Miles rolled his eyes,in frustration, as he forcefully slammed his books into his locker, creating a semi-loud band.

"Woah, easy there, Miles," Ganke said, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor. Ganke's eyes flickered towards you, a mischievous smirk forming on his face as he realized the source of Miles' agitation. It was no secret that Miles had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. Living just a few doors down, you two had always had a friendly but distant relationship, and that fact got on every one Miles' nerves.

"You're mad about Y/n?” Ganke teased, a smirk on his face. "Why don't you just tell her you like her?"

Miles let out a nervous laugh, his heart pounding in his chest. "If you can see, Ganke, she's always with that bozo," Miles replied, frustration lacing his voice, as he pointed towards your boyfriend.

As Miles closed his locker, he glanced back at you and couldn't help but smile and wave. His face lit up when you returned the wave, causing his heart to race even faster.

Your boyfriend noticed the exchange and spun around, giving Miles a mean mug. Unfazed and a little amused by your boyfriend's insecurity, Miles rolled his eyes and headed towards his first period.

Sitting in his first period English class, Miles plugged in his headphones and lost himself in the music. As he mindlessly doodled away in his sketchbook, he finally finished a drawing he had been meaning to complete for a while.

Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to see a smiling you. Quickly he took off his headphones before speaking.

“Yeah?” He spoke gently.

“Hey Miles, I really like your bracelet.”

Miles looked down at his wrist, the silver paperclip bracelet shining. He quickly unlatched it.

“Here ma, since you like it so much,” he said, handing it to you.

“Miles, no I can’t,” you said, your face filled with surprise.

“Yes, you can,” he said, grabbing your hand and fastening the bracelet to your wrist.

“There, it looks way better on you, pretty girl,” he said, earning a giggle from you that made his heart swell.

“Thank you, Miles,” you cooed, looking into his eyes.

He nodded before returning back to his drawing.

Miles would sneak glances at you throughout the whole class, watching as you would play, spinning the bracelet around your wrist - his bracelet. He was already distracted, not paying attention to a single thing the teacher was saying, but even more so now with his mind thinking a thousand thoughts of you and him, and what could be.

As classes ended, he walked through the halls, just happening to see you proudly showing off the bracelet to your friends. He laughed at your enthusiasm, secretly thrilled that you appreciated his gift. Little did Miles know his little gift would get him closer to what he wanted - you.

Again, he was lost in his thoughts about you, and how he loved your signature pink hair that you would wear in puffs, or the way you would cutely throw your head forward when you laughed. Miles knew he had to find a way to get closer to you.

But then he remembered your stupid boyfriend, who didn't treat you right, and he felt the sting of jealousy rise up in him. In Miles' mind, he didn't deserve you. He believed that you could do better, that you deserved someone better, like him.

Miles couldn't resist the temptation and found himself developing feelings for someone else's girlfriend. He started seeking you out in any classes you had together. He would strategically take the seat next to you instead of his usual spot, hoping to strike up conversations that went beyond the surface to know you better.

Surprisingly, you were just as interested in him. You started sitting with him at lunch, where the two of you would joke and laugh the entire period. Miles found you just as interesting and sweet as he had imagined, and he felt himself falling deeper and deeper for you with each passing day.

As the connection grew, Miles began to question his own actions. He knew it was wrong to pursue someone who was already taken, and guilt weighed on his conscience but not too much.

As your bond grew stronger, the closeness didn't go unnoticed by everyone and soon whispers filled the school.

You boyfriend sat just a few tables away, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He watched you and Miles, his food barely touched, as you two talked, laughed and exchanged subtle touches. The glimmering bracelet on your wrist caught his attention, and it took him a moment to connect the dots – it was Miles' bracelet.

That realization was the final blow for him. The weight of how close your were crashed on him like a ton of bricks. He stood up, his face flushed with a mix of fury and heartbreak, and made his way towards your table. His presence alone silenced both you and Miles.

"Hey, you two. What are we talking about?" he asked, a forced smile on his face as he attempted to kiss you only for you to dodge it.

Miles looked away, biting his lip to stop a wave of laughter that threatened to escape. He couldn't help but be amused by the scene unfolding before him.

"What do you want?" you whispered to your boyfriend, annoyance evident in your voice.

"Come on babe, let's go to another table," he suggested, attempting to coax you away from your current spot.

"No, I'm sitting with my friend," you replied firmly.

"Come on, y/n, I'm not doing this with you.”

"I'm not doing this with you either," you shot back, standing your ground. "Like I said, I'm sitting with my friend. So you can leave."

"Whatever," he mumbled, frustration etched across his face as he got up and returned to his own table.

"Fuck, wrong with him?" you asked, turning to Miles, who had been silently observing the encounter. Your question sending him over the edge making him fold over with laughter.

"You're his girl, ma, maybe you should go sit with him,".

You shook your head. "Nah, I'm staying,"

Miles furrowed his brows, studying you carefully. "You sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

Your gaze met his. "Yes, I'm sure, Miles. Fuck that Nigga.”

Miles but his lip chuckling at you. You were his now.

"Well, if it's fuck him,' kiss me," he whispered, a challenge dancing off his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a small smile adorned your face. Deep down, you knew you wanted it just as much as he did.

"Miles, what?" You replied, curiosity tinged with anticipation.

"You heard me, mami," he said, leaning in closer. "Kiss me right now. In front of everyone. Show him it's 'fuck him.'"

Your eyes flickered between his gaze and his inviting lips. You couldn't resist and started to lean in, your lips crashing together.

The sound of gasps and whispers filled the air as the onlookers turned their attention towards the unexpected kiss. You didn't care; you were too wrapped up in the moment, too wrapped up in Miles.

As you pulled away, laughter bubbled up from within both you and Miles. Your eyes scanned the crowd, and there, you two spotted your now ex-boyfriend, fuming with rage.

Miles turned to your boyfriend mischievous yet sympathetic smile on his face. "Sorry, bro, but I love your girl.”

[cry4mina]

Changing Lenses

(Momo x fem!reader)

Word Count: 12.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hence, the ex part.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-***Whatever else we see***

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

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

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

***You:*** It’s fine. [4:15pm]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was heavy to carry on your shoulders.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A honk startles you out of concentration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Helping her in this task, you start setting up.

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

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

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

“Yes, Momo?”

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

“…Shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is no harm in a little kindness, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blinking multiple times, you look at Momo in confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fresh start.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was very different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But were you bold enough to make a move?

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

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

A massive black bear.

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

Taking a dip on a nice day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pointing your camera at her, you took a photo.

One single photo.

You’d argue it was the most perfect one.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh boy.

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

You like her.

You romantically like her.

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

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

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

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

Swooning was an understatement.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lie to me.” laughing as you say it.

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes perk up.

“Yeah?”

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

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

Did you really just admit that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yearning, wasn’t the word.

It was a violent want.

An aggressive need.

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

Maybe it was better to wait?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feeling warmer?” cooed to her.

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

“Good”

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

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

—

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

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

Momo is awake already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One.

Two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had other plans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Oh fuck.*

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

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

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

All you needed was a little push.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean…are you?”

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

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

“Momo…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Oh…I uhm….yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Momo?”

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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