#note taking dashboard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mephisto-reporting · 6 months ago

Text

Princess Treatment - LADS HCs

Premise: You spoil him rotten, giving him the true princess treatment whenever he least expects it. Based on this request. Pairing: reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. This is pure fluff and I wrote these as headcanons on how the MC would spoil the lads men.

XAVIER

Tying His Shoelaces: Xavier, perpetually lost in thought or too sleepy to notice, never realizes his shoelaces have come undone. You’ve taken it upon yourself to stop him mid-step, kneeling down without hesitation to tie them up for him. "Y-you don’t have to do that,” he murmurs, his ears tinged red as other hunters in the UNICORNS squad snicker or raise eyebrows. Despite his protests, he secretly loves the care and attention you give him. Sometimes, he’ll glance down at his laces before heading out, secretly hoping you’ll stop him again.

The Crumb Crisis: You’ve come to notice that Xavier is always getting crumbs on his face—whether it’s from a snack he didn’t realize he’d left out or a meal he’s rushed through. You’ve made it a habit to carry a handkerchief with you, and whenever you see those crumbs stuck to his cheek, you gently take the cloth and wipe them off. He’s always caught off guard, sometimes even stammering, "I'm fine, really!" but the quiet appreciation in his eyes is unmistakable.

Homecooked Comfort: After grueling missions, Xavier is too drained to do much beyond collapsing on his couch. And given his well-documented kitchen disasters—he once managed to burn soup—you’ve made it a point to spoil him with hearty, homecooked meals. From comforting stews to his favorite snacks, you make sure he’s well-fed and taken care of. The first time you did it, his sleepy eyes widened in surprise. “You… made this for me?” “Of course. You deserve it.” He savors every bite, and though he’s not great with words, the way he quietly finishes everything on his plate is thanks enough.

Fuck the machines: Claw machines are Xavier’s mortal enemy. You’ve watched him struggle time and again, his focus no match for the slippery claws, even when he uses his Evol. So, you’ve taken over as his claw machine champion. "Which one do you want this time?” you ask, cracking your knuckles as he hesitates before shyly pointing to a particularly adorable plush. You win it with ease, handing it to him with a triumphant grin. “For you, Your Highness.” He laughs softly, his rare smile lighting up his face. “You’re too good at this.”

Bedhead Boy: Xavier’s perpetually messy bedhead is endearing, but sometimes it’s just too much for you to resist smoothing down. With a quiet hum, you gently comb your fingers through his hair, fixing it without a second thought. “Hey…” he starts to protest, but he always lets you finish, his ears pink as you pat his head affectionately.

ZAYNE

Door Dash: Zayne’s disdain for hospital canteen food is no secret, and you’ve made it your mission to ensure he eats something wholesome during his grueling shifts. You send him meals carefully packed in insulated containers, often including his favorite dishes. Occasionally, you’ll slip in a small dessert, knowing his secret sweet tooth. He doesn’t say much when he gets them, but you’ve caught a glimpse of the faint smirk he wears when he opens the package. “You know I can survive on vending machine snacks, right?” he’d quip over the phone later, but the fact he finishes every bite says otherwise.

Sticky notes: Zayne isn’t the type to expect grand gestures, so you leave small, thoughtful surprises instead. A note tucked into his hospital coat pocket with a cheeky, “Don’t overwork yourself. I still need my heart surgeon around.” Or a sticky note on his dashboard that reads, “Drive safe, handsome.” Once, he found one in his mail that simply said, “Stop glaring at everyone, I know you’re secretly nice.” He pretends to be unfazed, rolling his eyes or muttering something sarcastic like, “Am I being stalked?” but he keeps every single one in a drawer at home.

Spoil me, rotten: Zayne’s wardrobe is filled with impeccably tailored long coats, a staple of his polished appearance. You’ve taken to buying him accessories like elegant brooches, leather gloves, or even scarves that perfectly complement his collection. He always protests when you present them, narrowing his eyes and saying, “You do know I can buy these myself, right?” But the next time you see him, he’s wearing the latest item with an almost imperceptible look of pride. You tease him about it, and he deadpans, “It’s just practical. Don’t overthink it.”

Doctor's Day Out: Knowing how chaotic Zayne’s schedule as a top surgeon can be, you take charge of planning the weekends so he doesn’t have to lift a finger. Whether it’s booking a cozy dinner reservation, arranging a quiet getaway, or even planning an at-home movie night, you ensure everything is set. “All you need to do is show up and look stunning,” you joke, and he raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’m halfway there already,” he retorts dryly, but the way he leans back and relaxes during those weekends tells you he’s more grateful than he lets on.

Massage therapist: Zayne’s hands are his lifeline, and after long, intricate surgeries, they’re often sore and strained. You’ve made it a habit to take his hands in yours and gently massage them, working out the tension in his fingers and wrists. He pretends to be indifferent at first but notices that your skills have improved. After all, you’d put in the effort to learn different techniques to aid him and his skilled hands. “I hope you’re not charging me for this.” He jokes. But as your thumbs press into the tight knots, his usual stoic demeanor falters. The sharp lines of stress around his eyes soften, and his shoulders, once hunched from exhaustion, slowly unwind.

RAFAYEL

After you: It’s no secret Rafayel enjoys being the center of your attention, and you’re more than happy to oblige. Wherever you are—be it a café, an art gallery, or even your own home—you always make it a point to open the door for him. Without fail, he pauses, waiting for you to complete the gesture. It’s not that he can’t do it himself, but he loves seeing that soft, proud smile on your face when you hold the door just for him. Of course, he’d never outright admit it. Instead, he’ll quip something bratty, like, “Took you long enough, Cutie” but the faint curve of his lips tells you he secretly adores it.

Color Splash: Rafayel’s world revolves around his art, and you’ve made it your mission to fuel his creativity. Whether it’s hunting down rare pigments, finding unconventional materials to create new textures, or gifting him innovative tools, you never miss an opportunity to surprise him. When he first discovers your thoughtful additions to his collection, he’s practically radiant, eyes gleaming with inspiration as he eagerly experiments. Of course, he’ll nonchalantly mutter, “I could’ve found this myself, you know,” but his excitement is undeniable, and you know you’ve made his day.

Cheater, Cheater: You pride yourself on your competitive streak, but when it comes to Kitty Cards with Rafayel, you can’t help but let him bend the rules. He catches on every time, glancing at you with a knowing smirk as he casually switches out cards while you pretend not to notice. He knows exactly what you’re doing but plays along with a sly grin. Winning always means he gets to name his prize, and without fail, it’s more time with you. “Your competitive streak is slipping, cutie,” he teases, already pulling you closer. “Guess you’ll just have to pay for it with another evening by my side.”

Passenger Princess: Whether it’s the car or your motorbike, Rafayel is always the passenger princess with you. He’s perfectly content letting you take the wheel, whether it’s navigating through traffic or cruising down open roads. He’ll sit back, casually tossing a playful comment your way, his relaxed demeanor making it clear he has no interest in taking control. But even more than that, he loves the attention you give him. He’ll rest his hand on your shoulder or his head against the seat, basking in the comfort of being close to you. It’s his way of enjoying the ride—and you—without the fuss.

Creative Clean up: Rafayel’s studio is a whirlwind of creativity, but it’s also a constant mess. Brushes, paints, papers, clothes—everything’s scattered around like a storm wrecked his living space. Coffee cups would double as pen holders, and brushes would be left lying around like they were an afterthought. But no matter how chaotic it became, you never complained. You’d roll up your sleeves and clean up every single time you visited him. He’d give you a cheeky grin, the same one he wore whenever he was being a brat, and say, “You know you don’t have to do this, right? I like my space just the way it is.” But he never stopped you, and in the moments when he didn’t look, his eyes would soften, and a hint of appreciation would slip through his normally playful mask. He knew you cared for him in a way that no one else did.

SYLUS

Product Placement: Sylus was used to getting what he wanted, whether it was luxury items or rare finds. He had his preferences, and he wasn’t one to settle for less. But when you made it your mission to keep his favorite, expensive brands stocked in your home—whether it was gourmet food, skincare products, or niche equipment—it didn’t go unnoticed. The first time you did this, Sylus had been caught off guard. He’d teased you, of course. “I don’t need you to be my personal store, kitten. I’ve got everything I need.” But when he came over and found everything perfectly laid out just the way he liked it, the teasing turned into a more meaningful smile. He would let you spoil him just enough to acknowledge your effort, but never enough to let you feel like you were getting the upper hand. That was the Sylus way.

Rare Rhythms: Sylus’ love for rare records was well-known, and so was the fact that he had an extensive collection of limited-edition vinyl. But you didn’t mind diving into the world of obscure, indie artists just to get him something new for his collection. It wasn’t easy, though. It took long hours of scouring flea markets, searching online auction houses, and talking to music enthusiasts who knew more than a thing or two about underground talent. It was often a challenge, but for you, it was worth every second. Sylus didn’t say much, but you could tell by the way he listened to every single one of them, that he was genuinely impressed. "They’ve got potential," he'd said, before you knew it, that same artist was suspiciously rising in popularity, and you’d smile every time Sylus mentioned them. “You really know how to find a diamond in the rough, don’t you, sweetie?”

Spoiled Stubborn: Sylus was always the one taking the lead, always the one orchestrating the grand gestures. Spoiling him? Not so easy. He didn’t make it easy for anyone to do that. He would never outright refuse, but it was clear that when you tried, he preferred to return the favor rather than let you take charge. But you were stubborn—probably even more so than he was. You wanted him to be spoiled just as much. You wanted him to experience the kind of care he gave to everyone else, and you had just the way to do it: Planning dates where he couldn’t take over. Once it was picnic in the woods. You went all out—your best blankets, his favorite snacks, wine you knew he’d like—and most importantly, you took care of every detail so that he couldn’t take charge. The other time, it was a movie night at your place where everything was set: Popcorn, soda, the projector and candy. “You’re stubborn, you know that?” he remarked softly, but there was affection behind his words. "I want spoil you... but you’ve managed to spoil me instead." You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading, knowing that in these small moment, you had made him feel cared for—something he usually avoided letting others do.

Sylus’ Salon: Sylus had always been a little gruff, his rugged demeanor giving off the impression of someone who was clinical and composed. But you knew him better than that. One of those moments was when you washed and dried his hair. He’d never asked for it, but you’d begun doing it without thinking. Maybe it was the way his silver hair shimmered under the water, or maybe it was the way he looked so disarmed when he let his guard down, letting you comb through his hair with graceful fingers. You’d always notice how his breath would deepen, how his eyes would close just a little longer than necessary. "I know you like doing this," he’d say, the faintest hint of a grin playing on his lips. "But you’re making it hard for me to act all tough with you fussing over me like this." You’d laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead before continuing to dry his hair. It was an act of tenderness, a side of him that no one got to see.

Touch Starved: Sometimes, it wasn’t the grand gestures that mattered. It was the little touches. —a soft brush of your hand against his cheek or the fleeting warmth of your fingers tracing his jaw—he couldn’t help but pause. He’d find himself rewinding moments of you brushing his hair out of his face, or simply wrapping your arms around him when he least expected it. He’d tense, but only for a moment, before letting the warmth of your embrace dissolve his guarded exterior. “It seems like a certain kitten cannot keep her hands to herself.” Sylus would tease, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as you snuck in another kiss, letting him know that you’d spoil him with your touches and kisses, even if he won’t admit it loudly.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

3K notes · View notes

krowbby · 1 year ago

Text

Ankh-Morpork Dashboard Simulator

happy 40th anniversary everyone 🥳🥳

🌅peach-bi-street

who’s that watchman who’s kinda skrunkly

🐀↺riverrat Follow

helen.

HELEN. ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT NOBBY NOBBS.

🌅↺peach-bi-street

oh yeah

#are you gonna look at me and tell me that im WRONG?

24 notes

🪙official-c.m.o.t.☑️☑️Sponsored with Blaze

C.M.O.T. Dibbler’s Escape The Room!!!!!

Newly opened in the Street of Cunning Artificers is an experience unlike any you’ve had before! Enter a room filled with secrets and mysteries which you must solve in order to escape! Great place to bring a date! Compete with other visitors for the fastest time to solve the room!

Show this ad at the front desk for a special deal of only one dollar per person, and that’s cuttin’ me own throat!!!

Dibbler Enterprises does not take any responsibility for any maiming, hot oil, buckets of snakes, or any other hazards guests may encounter in their visit.

#smallbusiness #ankhmorpork #ankhblr #deals

590 notes

🚹humantwitter Follow

4,981 notes

💌postal-service-top Follow

saw the postmaster today in his stupid gold suit. hes so hot

🌚↺lesbianbaker

i don’t get why people say this he’s the most average looking guy ever. his WIFE however

#you know that post that’s like ur at a lesbian bar and a hot older woman is smoking #and ur like. ‘can yuo put that out on me’ #yeah

120 notes

🥁evenmoremendeddrum Follow

do you guys think the patrician has a secret blog

🛤️↺makeyefret Follow

No, but I bet his secretary is on studyblr

🐶↺wufflesgirl Follow

are you kidding me the patrician is definitely on tumblr. brb committing treason so i can compliment his shoelaces

🥁↺evenmoremendeddrum Follow

peer-reviewed tags

#lord vetinari if ur reading this is legally a joke #wear an owl pin if ur one of us

🏚️↺ankhmorporkheritageposts Follow

Ankh-Morpork Heritage Post

1,074,228 notes

trainhoe-deactivated19890205

hot take but i kind of think the guild of assassins and thieves are problematic. like one of them you could ruin someone’s life and the other one you’re literally KILLING people. i know rich people are delusional but i can’t believe they literally think the best school for their kids is murder college.

🐲essential-dragons Follow

assassins got them

20,391 notes

#discworld #terry pratchett #i have no idea if this is funny but i've spent too long on it already so here #feel free to steal any ideas if you wanna make your own one LOL #havelock vetinari #nobby nobbs #moist von lipwig #adora belle dearheart

7K notes · View notes

logaenhowlett · 6 months ago

Text

TEACH YOU HOW TO GET TO PUREST HELL - L.H.

Summary: On the way to one of his cage fights, Logan's truck begins to break down and that's how he meets you, the owner of a repair shop in Northern Alberta. He promises to pay you with his winnings - but what he ultimately offers is far more interesting.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+ only, Fluff, Flirting, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Fingering, Unprotected sex (against the cage), Aftercare, Logan's a snarky motherfucker (but secretly a softie)

A/N: The filthiest 4k I've ever written. I just know he was a menace during his cage fighter era. It's okay though, I'll still be clawing at the enclosure. Title creds to Radiohead. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Smoke curls around him, bearing a semblance of warmth against the biting wind. Logan's grip on the steering wheel is loose, the other arm draped lazily across the window. He flicks his fingertips ever so often, the ashes of his cigar disappearing into the falling snow. Mile after mile, the same barren landscape stretches before him.

He's lost amidst the silence, having turned the radio all the way down in frustration at the nonsense plaguing the stations earlier. As sunshine glares through the windshield, he scrunches his eyebrows, vaguely entertaining some ideas swirling in his mind.

Hours pass by painfully slow. He tries to ignore the low rumbling that interrupts his flow of thoughts, body firmly protesting against this all-alcohol diet he'd unintentionally adopted. Logan skims a hand into the glove compartment, clicking his tongue when he discovers only a few wrappers lying inside. Slumping back into the seat, he takes another drag, disappointment etching onto his features.

An orange, flashing icon on the dashboard snaps his attention. His eyes dart to the blinking light, a sense of irritation washing over him when he recognises the ‘check engine’ symbol. In a haste, he pulls the truck over, slamming the door shut behind him as he ventures into the cold to inspect the issue. Though he has an extensive knowledge of motorcycles, by no means does that expertise carry over to whatever mess he finds beneath the hood. Logan returns with a sigh, recalling a faded road sign he'd passed ages ago - at least he isn't awfully far from his destination.

In the distance, the town welcome monument brings him some sort of peace. After driving by plenty of dimly lit diners and pubs, he reluctantly asks a stranger for directions to the nearest repair shop. Logan arrives shortly thereafter, parking at the entrance of this seemingly empty building. Curious, he scans the place, sliding out of his seat in search of anyone.

The distinct ring of metal hitting the floor has him spinning around. He fights back the amused huff at the sight of you, bottom lip slightly caught between his teeth in an attempt to stop the smirk threatening to break free. His eyes rake over your figure as you come closer - appreciating the way your overalls perfectly capture the slopes and curves of your body - before finally, rising to meet your unimpressed expression.

"What're you here for?"

There's a smidge of annoyance in your words, a reaction he very much enjoys being the reason for. He nods towards the truck parked out front, "Problem with the engine."

When you brush past him, Logan spots a name neatly embroidered onto your otherwise soiled clothes. Smiling, he follows after you, shamelessly dropping his gaze to your ass for a moment.

Waiting patiently while you poke around the hood, he steals glances at your profile, filled with the sudden urge to wipe away the grease stain remnants off your cheeks, "Yeah... looks like the head gasket needs replacing."

Logan groans to himself before agreeing with your judgment. He runs a hand across his face, stilling in brief confusion when you chuckle quietly.

"Somethin' funny?" He asks, noting how you browse the insides of his camper with a flair of barely-masked mockery.

"Just admiring the interior design."

That one almost draws a scoff out of him. Logan knows his living quarters are rather bare-bones in nature, at best, providing decent shelter for when he's on the go. Inside, a makeshift bed large enough for a man of his size and basic kitchen appliances - though he rarely uses those. It's all he cares for anyway, yet there's a tinge of self-consciousness he shakes before gruffly responding, "You can do it by tonight?"

"Tonight?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise, "Fine... but it's gonna set you back about three grand."

"I got half for now."

A sharp laugh pierces his ears. And even though it's undoubtedly fake, he thinks you look pretty like this - shooting what can't be anything less than a deadly glare just for him. The corners of his lips tilt up when your tone suddenly becomes stern, "That's not how it works, buddy."

"Listen, I got a fight later, I'll be good for it."

"What? You that sure you're gonna win?"

You're teasing him. You know it, and so does he. Logan studies the way your hand rests against your hip, a challenging glint behind your eyes while you consider this ridiculous suggestion. He moves one step closer and proudly welcomes the surge of satisfaction at the slight crack of your demeanour.

"Darlin', I always win." It's a whisper that leaves him, hushed and dangerously low. Giving your shoulder a playful nudge as he walks by, he circles to the trailer behind the truck, retrieving his motorcycle. He smirks, pleased to witness such a glimpse of weakness, "Eleven-thirty. O'Malley's. I'll see you there."

The engine revs with each twist of his wrist, the movement so precise and natural. As he sinks onto the bike, the suspension adjusting to his weight, he sends you a wink.

"And if you lose?" You shout over the blaring sounds.

With one final grin, "Just fix my truck, alright."

Even from outside, O'Malley's is deafeningly loud. The wooden door creaks lightly with the gentlest push, and a mixture of overly enthusiastic yells paired with the clashing of glass greet your presence. You're no regular here whatsoever, but the fights that occur in this bar are usually the talk of the town. And despite its reputation, you've never had much interest in being surrounded by a crowd of angry, intoxicated men - all drowning beneath the crude insults and empty threats tossed into the air.

Some of the patrons, customers you recognise from work, acknowledge you with a polite smile while you settle into a booth near the cage. As you observe the utter chaos around the room, it only cements your distaste for this so-called form of entertainment. The current match's loser staggers past your table, barely walking on two feet even with the support of his friends.

All you can think about is returning home with your hard-earned cash. It was a rather tiring day, running around salvage yards scouring for spare parts to tend to the old piece of junk he'd called a truck. Not to mention the unforgiving weather, which seemed determined to make your day more miserable. And to top it all off, the jerk wanted it done by nightfall - the audacity! Just the simple reminder of today's events has your body tensing from restlessness.

Behind you, a group of men sneer amongst themselves and between their slurring, the words "pretty boy" and "his ass kicked" grasp your attention. Turning around, you watch as they hand over money to some younger fella, taunting others to join the bet. Oh, that makes your blood boil. This Logan had strolled into your shop with nothing but a superficial promise for your services, and now, he's presumed to lose?

You stand up abruptly, peering across the space in search of him. A rush of fury courses through you at the same time you spot him casually lounging in the corner. As you approach, the faint glow of the bulb illuminates his face, a cloud of smoke momentarily hiding the smirk playing on his lips. His chuckle cuts through the hum of the jukebox he's leaning on, eyes crinkling with a kind of smugness at your arrival.

"You're joking." The bottle of whiskey between his fingers shocks you the most, "Are you seriously getting drunk before your fight?"

Logan grins at your concerned expression, eyes tracing you up and down, "You fix it?"

"Yes, I fucking fixed it. Took me all day!" Fists clenching, you stare at him intently, "Look, I did my job - you better do yours."

"Don't worry 'bout it, darlin'. I'm a man of my word." He dismisses you completely, taking a prolonged swig of his drink. A beat passes before he lazily holds up two fingers right to your face, "Scout's honour."

He laughs again when you roughly shove his hand aside, not sparing another second for this cocksure attitude. You grumble under your breath, making your way back to the booth, "It's three fingers, asshole."

A few matches take place over the next hour, and you're only getting more antsy as each of the competitors exits the cage with nothing short of bloody faces and broken bones. The audience roars all of a sudden, some even rattling the fence as this new person strides into the threshold.

Of course, he'd stripped his shirt off and the sight of his muscle-toned chest only serves to further fuel your irritation. Logan's eyes find yours immediately, looking past the crowd of hecklers now whistling at him. With a nod, he throws you a confident smirk and turns to his rival.

The man he's up against is much more burly and has a couple of inches on him. Though that doesn't seem to faze Logan in the slightest, instead he's flexing his arms almost playfully before adopting a fighting stance. Every punch and kick has you twitching in your seat, your feet firmly stuck to the ground in anticipation.

Remembering how he'd chugged an entire bottle of liquor earlier, you're astonished by the ferocity with which he attacks his opponent, dodging most moves with deadly precision. As he lands more jabs, the spectators begin to jeer and boo, swarming the enclosure of the cage in a tantrum. You peek over their shoulders, ducking away from the things they're flinging around. There's a collective gasp when he knocks out the other man, and you sigh in relief.

Leaning towards the cage, a cigar lightly pressed against his mouth, Logan's focus shifts to you. His chest is heaving from all the physical exertion, skin damp from the sweat. As he exhales the smoke, blowing a kiss in your direction, a satisfied expression returns to his face. He runs a hand through his wet hair, leaving the arena with no regard for the protesting crowd.

You follow after him, squeezing through the tightly packed space. He's settling a score with the owner, a wad of rolled cash passing between them as a reward. After a nod of mutual agreement, Logan faces you, tossing his leather jacket on. And while you're ultimately happy he won, there's also this urge to smack the cheeky look that seems to be glowing as you come closer.

What's more upsetting is the fact that he is undeniably gorgeous - especially like this, all sweaty and wound up from the adrenaline rushing inside. And of course, he doesn't miss how your gaze wanders to the sliver of skin peeking through his jacket, every slight movement only revealing more.

Logan grabs a few bills from the roll of money and stuffs them into his back pocket, holding the rest out towards you. As you reach for the cash, he swiftly draws his hand back with a teasing smile, "Have a drink with me."

"No."

"C'mon." He drags out, repeating the same thing when you try again, "No one needs their cute, little mechanic right now."

Watching you sigh triggers a thrill of excitement, an unspoken victory he claims with no shame. With a simple gesture, he leads you towards a secluded booth, determined to make this a worthwhile exchange. Despite your hesitation, he maintains a sort of relaxed energy, draping his arm along the seat - his eyes not straying from yours.

Two shots of vodka are placed on the table and Logan mirrors your action, slowly raising the glass to his lips. In no time, the air of unease dissipates, replaced by a comfortable silence while the drinks keep coming. As the night wears on, casual conversation flows between you and he asks a few things like how long you've lived here, why you became a mechanic and eventually, when he slides you the money, "What now, darlin'? You gonna leave?"

His voice, dripping with honeyed sweetness, sends a shiver down your spine. You can't exactly place the feeling, but it's a tangle of exasperation and something else - something you're not quite ready to define. Instead, you blame it on the drinks, the late hour, and the fact that there's an incredibly attractive man just inches away.

As frustration envelops your thoughts, you suddenly excuse yourself and head towards the bathroom. The alcohol, previously a gentle companion, now seems to be taking its toll. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you try to fight against the sensations running through your body. The splash of cold water does little to your state of mind, yet you're back outside in what feels like a tilted world, using all your strength to walk straight.

As you brush past the cage, someone collides into you. Desperate for balance, you reach out to grip the fence, but a strong hand lays steady on your lower back. With a gasp and a tilt of your head, you're caught off-guard when Logan comes into your view. His arm snakes around to gently hold your waist, his body now pressing into yours.

Overwhelmed by the sudden proximity, you tear your attention away from him and glance at the wire pricking your fingers, "This is fucking sharp."

He doesn't break the eye contact. A low hum vibrates through his chest as he leans in, the warmth of his breath dancing with yours. The space between you slowly shrinks, whatever lighthearted facade he'd worn earlier vanishes only to be replaced by something raw and inexplicable.

"How're you not bruised?" You whisper, remembering the way he'd been thrown against the cage earlier.

"Call it a special talent."

Despite your better judgment, you find yourself captivated by him, the intensity of his gaze reeling you in. And so, you decide to play his game, "Can you teach me?"

Logan pauses, "You wanna learn... how to fight?"

"Just a little punch or something."

A faint smile spreads across his face, you're absolutely sure he can feel the way your heart is pounding. When his lips lightly brush against your ear, a quiet rumble escapes and something flickers in your gut - a twist of exhilaration laced with a hint of caution.

There's barely anyone left in the bar at this point besides the one or two stragglers hanging around. Logan and you stand alone in the cage, seemingly tucked away in a little pocket of your own. He doesn't wander too far, remaining within an arm's distance while demonstrating the proper technique for a jab - the motion so fluid and effortless.

Your initial attempts to mimic his movements are clumsy and awkward, his amusement only growing more evident with each try. Slipping behind you, he sheds the jacket, once again exposing his glorious muscles and the thought of tracing his vein-riddled biceps with your tongue leaves you dazed for a moment. This time, he circles his arms around you and guides your hands into the correct position.

As you practice, your bodies nudge against each other, his breath fans across your neck and ignites a fire within you. The tension is palpable, the air thick with implicit desire. You can almost feel his gaze burning into you, every second posing a challenge to cross this imaginary line.

The rest of the patrons are ushered out the door, the owner nodding at Logan before disappearing into the back room. And the silence settles in, a stark contrast to all the commotion that lingered for hours prior. You notice the difference, inching towards the exit, "Looks like they're closing up."

Before you can move away, Logan's hand shoots out to catch your wrist, "And we got it all to ourselves."

"What?"

"Might've slipped the owner a little somethin’."

His fingers trail up your arm, thumb gently pushing your soft skin. Slowly, he brings you closer, his words just a whisper of heat on your cheek. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest, a rhythm echoing your own racing heart. Your voice, hoarse and strained, barely manages a response, "Is this how you budget? No wonder you're broke."

It's his laughter that breaks you at first, followed by, "You got a smart mouth, darlin'. Tell me, what else can it do?"

His lips hover mere inches above yours, there's a moment of hesitation hanging in the air - an out, if you don't want this. But, temptation is a dangerous siren and you're already ensnared by her song.

Fuck it.

Logan's dog tags hang pretty between the slopes of your breasts, his mouth moving against yours in a rough, demanding fashion. It's sloppy. It's wet. And it's goddamn heavenly when his fingers thread through your hair, the gap between you now completely erased. You cling to him as if he's an anchor, nails digging into his shoulders while he pins you to the cool metal of the cage.

He wants to touch you. To feel the warmth radiating straight off your body. The straps of your overalls fall from his force, he takes the opportunity to slide one hand through the side, kneading your waist with a kind of tenderness that surprises him too. When you take a second to breathe, Logan peppers kisses along your jawline, then some beneath your ear before grazing his lips on your neck.

The pulsing vein he finds nearly has him growling in pleasure, "Fuck, darlin'... feel so good already... can't wait to taste you when I'm done..."

He stills when you gasp, glancing up through his lashes and then quietly chuckling at your flustered expression. Yet, he can't revel in his victory for any longer than a blink, your palm tilts his head back before you fiercely capture his mouth once more.

His name rolls out your lips, drawn out and glazed with an obvious need. Taking a deep inhale, Logan feels the bulge in his jeans growing with each passing moment. You're only getting restless as his hands roam over your body, becoming nothing more than a whimpering mess all from his doing.

"Lemme hear you for real, baby... don't be shy." His fingers latch onto the cage, using it to thrust forward and deepen the kiss. Your clothes end up pooling at your feet, the barriers between you peeling away with every layer gone. Now, skin to skin, sweat glistening on your brow, you're left bare and vulnerable to his touch.

Logan reaches down, spreading your thighs wide enough till he can push your panties aside, stroking the outside of your entrance. Clenching his jaw when he's met with a distinct wetness, "Hidin' all this for me?" He almost laughs at how you curl forward and then whine his name, craving for any part of him to be inside you, "Hm... what'd you say to me before? Three fingers?

With no warning, he slides exactly three inside your cunt, pumping in and out as best as he can, "So fuckin' tight, darlin'... c'mon... show me you're ready for the real thing." He knows he's doing something right when you squirm at his actions, jumping at the invitation to delicately flick your clit before sinking his fingers back into you.

"Logan-"

Pain consumes you as he continues, tears springing to your eyes. You've never felt pleasure like this, so intense and so profound, words lost amongst the moans trembling out your lips. Your knees begin to shake under the pressure, and his free hand immediately cups your thigh, securing your body to his. As you call out for him, urging him to fuck you senseless, he tugs his fingers away.

The belt flies, jeans tossed behind in an instant and he grunts, freeing his hard length from his boxers. The tip of his cock teases your folds, the precum slicking down from the head. His nose presses against your cheek when your hand runs up and down - getting him all nice and ready. Breath hitching at the sensation, Logan involuntarily bucks his hips, your eagerness carrying him over the edge.

He's careless about lining himself up, giving it no more than a fleeting thought before thrusting into you. Whatever floods your brain at that moment is much more potent than anything you've ever experienced. It's vigorous, almost animalistic in nature, how hard he fucks you. The veins on his arms become more apparent as he hoists you up, pushing you against the cage. He can hear the little fibers of your skin tearing because of the friction, yet he does little to ease that pain, knowing you're enjoying the hurricane of emotions whisking you away.

Logan pants into your tits, nipping at the soft flesh, "Wanted to ruin that pussy since I saw you this mornin'... all dirty and pissed off at me - god. Thought 'bout somethin' else on your face too."

"Logan - don't... fucking stop. Feels amazing... wanna feel all of you." The words escape you - laboured and breathless - your eyes soften in delight, watching this sort of enraptured expression wash across his face, "So good for me, Logan."

So good.

For me.

And boy, if that doesn't spur him on.

Picking up speed, his movements turn greedy, grinding into you with a degree of passion he's never felt before. As you tug his hair, fingers raking through the dark tresses in a frenzy, Logan taps into the primal energy swelling within. His hands squeeze you further, your thighs constricting his waist as he drives up into you, "That's it baby... fuckin' perfect. Takin' all of me like a good girl... mhmm."

The way your body helplessly arches has him grinning, but that quickly gets swept away when his cock twitches inside you, aching to burst at any given moment. He tries his hardest to control himself, longing for your cries of pleasure as you finish. Thrusts weakening to a leisurely pace, Logan grunts into your neck, mumbling a string of curses while he rides out this wave. Thankfully, you're on the precipice as well, your body reaching its peak with a shiver.

His cum trickles out of you, thighs getting sticky as it seeps lower and lower. Lost in a daze, Logan thinks he can see the damn sun in your eyes. With a gentle swipe of your cunt, he sheepishly licks his own fingertips, a smile brightening his face.

The mattress, once a source of great discomfort, now feels like paradise as you cuddle into the crook of his neck, the soft rhythm of your breath soothing him to a state of peace. He'd carried you to his truck earlier, threatening you with a barrage of kisses when you dangled his keys in front of him. There was a rather short game of tag before you relented and collapsed into his embrace, tiredly blinking up at him. He'd tucked the loose strands of your hair back then tenderly caressed your cheek. It took all but one affectionate grin to convince you to spend the night in his camper.

Not a single inch of your body is free from his touch. He pulls you even closer, tracing patterns around the tiny scratches spreading across your shoulders. If you'd asked him yesterday, he would tell you he has no plans of sticking around this town, grown used to a life of impermanence. Yet, as he rests, tangled in your arms, Logan finds a reason to stay.

1K notes · View notes

skzdarlings · 1 year ago

Text

the ride ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by @rosequartsz : chan with the prompt ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ like the reader is the same age as jeongin so chan kinda feels bad but at the same time he wants to corrupt the reader so bad cushsisjsis

original ask: requested by anonymous : Chan and ❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜ ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: friends to lovers, chan is a little older than reader, reader is not actually that innocent but pretends to be and they both get off on it lol. some not very safe driving lol keep ur eyes on the road. car sex, dirty talk, teasing, corruption play, puuuuure smut. word count: 2400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

“That’s not fair,” Jeongin says. “I called dibs.”

“Too bad.” You stick your tongue out at him. “Learn to run faster, loser.”

Jeongin scowls, once more relegated to the backseat of Chan’s car. You are sitting pretty in the passenger seat for the fourth day in a row and Jeongin is playfully annoyed about it.

You and your twin brother have been racing into Chan’s car since high school. You are both at university now, but Chan still offers the occasional lift. With storm season making public transit a bigger hassle than it’s worth, Chan has been offering more rides.

Just because of the weather. Not any other reason. Of course.

You smirk, casting a side-glance into the driver’s seat. Chan is smiling at Jeongin through the rearview mirror, looking less like Channie, the boy of your teenage fantasies, and more like Bang Chan, the man of your adult dreams. He is wearing a baseball cap and leather jacket, his whole demeanour oozing an effortless masculinity, the bearing of a competent man who knows he can do anything.

And still, despite his well-earned cockiness, he has an undoubtedly shy side. When he looks at you, the tips of his ears flame an embarrassed, fiery red, and his dimpled smile is almost boyish in its sweetness.

“Right then,” he says. Then, like the endearingly cheesy goofball he is, he adds, “All aboard, ready for takeoff!”

“Jeongin,” you say, blinking innocently at your twin through the mirror. “You have your presentation notes, right? You don’t want to forget them.”

Jeongin double-checks his bag but you already know he won’t find them. You deliberately took them out and placed them on the kitchen counter.

“Damn,” he says, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt. “I thought I put them in here. Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

Jeongin practically flies out of the car and up the driveway, leaving you and Chan. It happens quickly, before Chan can even compute it. You can see the gears turning in his head, but you are faster, sighing melodramatically while gathering the hem of your skirt.

“Silly boy,” you say. “What should we do while he’s gone?” You draw your skirt up your thighs just enough to tease the skin of your upper thighs.

Chan is staring there with his mouth open, his words evaporating on his tongue. He clears his throat after a second, ripping his gaze away. He looks across the dashboard and laughs, a shy, awkward laugh.

“Your brother will be back in a second,” Chan says. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”

He is white-knuckling the steering wheel, like all his restraint is being poured into that physical grip. Even so, it is not hard to pry his hand off the wheel. You know a stronger, more belligerent shove could not bend a determined Bang Chan, but the softest touch from your gentle hands will have him breaking in seconds.

You are slow, casual despite your racing heart, guiding his hand onto your knee. He makes a little noise that turns your whole body to pure, liquid heat. You make a similar sound, a faint whimper in the back of your throat, as you slide his hand up your thigh.

“Channie,” you say, your too-sweet, too-innocent voice part of your acting, but your breathlessness undoubtedly real.

“Don’t—” His voice breaks and he clears his throat. “Don’t say my name like that. You know—”

“What do I know, Channie?” you ask, blinking at him with wide eyes while you curl his fingers around your thigh. You bring your legs together, holding his hand between them.

He visibly swallows, throat bobbing. The redness has spread from his ears down his neck.

“We’ve talked about this, baby girl,” he says, his tone stricter, taking on that darker edge that makes your heart – and everything else – gush. “We’ve been good so far, okay?” If stolen kisses, open zippers, and groping touches count as good. “You’re my – you’re my friend. You should be like a little sister or something to me… yeah? Yeah… Yeah!” He shakes his head, pulling himself out of the distraction caused by you unzipping your jacket. He squeezes your thigh, a firm, warning grip. “Don’t make this so hard,” he says.

“What’s hard for you, Channie?” you ask, reaching into his lap and touching his thigh, then higher, finding the evidence of his words. A shiver moves across his shoulders, his breath catching as you cup your palm around the bulge in his jeans. “Is it something I can help you with?” You lick your bottom lip then smile.

“Oh,” he says. His eyes crinkle with amusement but there is a score of different emotions on his face, all of them smoldering. “You really wanna play that game, huh?”

There is no chance for an answer because Jeongin returns, hopping into the car with his notes. You and Chan separate, looking out the dashboard window. You pat your hot skin and try to slow your racing heart.

Sensing the oddly silent tension, Jeongin narrows his eyes and looks between you. Eventually, his expression sours like he smells something bad.

“Oh my god,” he says, then punches Chan in the shoulder. “Are you fucking my sister!”

“What!” Chan says, getting redder by the second. “Jeongin, how could— I wouldn’t— I don’t—”

“What, you don’t fuck?” Jeongin asks, then laughs until he is wheezing. “You can do better, man.”

“Jeongin, shut up!” You reach back to smack at him, rubbing your hand all over his stupid face and messing up his hair while he wails in protest.

“All right, all right!” Chan says, breaking you up. “Let’s just… let’s just go, okay? Okay.”

“Yes, daddy,” you say, mostly out of spite.

Chan squeaks.

Jeongin pretends to gag then slumps against his window.

“I’m gonna need to start taking the bus,” he says, morose.

Fortunately, thanks to the impromptu revelation of your shenanigans, it does not take much convincing for Jeongin to find another ride home. When Chan pulls into the campus parking lot to pick you up, you approach his vehicle with a grin and a wink.

You slide into the passenger seat, smoothing down your skirt while he sighs. It sounds more amused than frustrated.

“Where’s your brother?” he asks.

You shrug with theatrical exaggeration.

“Right,” Chan says, starting the car. “Got it.”

He puts a hand on your headrest to leverage himself, looking out the rear window as he reverses the car. That proximity alone gets you hot, the temptation to grab him already strong. You play a patient game, as always, stealing glances and suggestive smiles while he drives.

Halfway home, you put a hand on his knee. At first your touch is innocent, tracing slow circles on the denim, then you get a little more brazen, fingertips brushing up his thigh.

“Baby,” he says in that warning voice, eyes on the road. Holding the wheel with one hand, he uses the other to stop your wandering ascent.

“Yes?” you ask with all that faux-innocence. Rather than fight his touch, you guide his hand to your lap, placing it on your knee.

Unlike this morning, he does not play nice. You make a startled, high-pitched sound when he immediately dives under your skirt, his rough palm pressing down where you are already aching. Your thighs slam shut out of instinct but his hand is where it wants to be, his fingers curled around your pussy in a proprietary touch.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice playfully mean. He grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit. He never takes his eyes off the road. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, though you cannot help but rock yourself against his hand.

“Mmm,” he says, patting your pussy then stroking your thigh, guiding your legs open again. “We’ll see about that.”

You keep your eyes ahead too, pretending not to notice when he glances at you. Then you gasp because he reaches out and tugs the zipper on your hoodie. You instinctively clutch it, wearing nothing but a bra underneath, having taken off your other layers to surprise him. He is the one surprising you, a secret sexy menace under all that shy sweetness. He unzips the hoodie halfway then reaches past the material to squeeze a handful. Your body practically sings under his touch.

“Channie,” you say, breathless again.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. “Channie’s gonna take care of you, yeah? Always.”

“Take care of me how?” Your question toys with that false innocence, the little game that gets you both hot, but there is genuine curiosity there too. This game has been escalating slowly over time. You want more and you are starting to get desperate.

Chan looks at you. His gaze moves over your mouth then your body, your skirt rucked up and breasts practically spilling out of your hoodie. He swears, looking back at the road with that red blush on his ears again.

“Fuck,” he says. “I want to fuck you so badly. You have no idea.”

His words have a raw, honest edge. He swallows, hard. You feel like one tightly coiled ball of tension, ready to snap apart.

“Please,” you say in that breathy voice. “Make me feel good. No one else can like you.”

You do not make it all the way home. There is a nearby lookout point at the park, a shrouded parking area that has undoubtedly seen its fair share of hook-ups. Chan parks there and you dive at each other like randy teenagers. You climb into his lap, bumping everything on the console on your way, the honking the horn with your backside for good measure. It makes you both giggle.

Then your laughter is swallowed by hot, desperate, open-mouthed kisses.

“Mmm,” you hum against his lips. You push his hat off his head and sink your fingers in his curly hair. “Channie, please,” you say.

He cups the back of your neck, holding your head where he wants it so he can kiss you thoroughly. His ravishing touch leaves you shaking with need, rocking against him to no relief.

“Poor baby,” he says with a little laugh, squeezing your neck then drawing his hand down the curve of your chest. He unzips the rest of your hoodie. His mouth follows the same path as his hands, down your chest and back up again.

He is working you up, deftly and swiftly, using just a few well-placed throat kisses, a few flicks of his fingertips across the sensitive peaks of your breasts. He seems so composed under you, other than the flush to his complexion, the heat to his skin that has him shedding his leather jacket. You feel completely undone, half-naked and writhing in his lap. Your hands tangle together, fumbling around his belt.

“Let me,” he says. He gets his belt open and his fly undone, then his hands are on you. He doesn’t just tug your panties to the side but rips them apart, snapping the seams like they’re nothing. Then those strong fingers are inside you, finding just how wet and ready you are for him. He makes a low, guttural sound, thumping his head against the headrest. “Fuck, baby girl,” he says. “You know what you do to me?” he asks.

“I dunno, Channie.” You pout and bat your eyelashes. “You better show me.”

He laughs. He holds your hips and moves you, positions you where he wants you. You are pressed so close together, chest-to-chest, so you cannot see when he finally enters you. But you feel it, hot and hard and filling you, stretching you, almost painful but burning so good. You slap a hand to the roof of the car, eyes closing as you moan.

“S-so much,” you say, because it feels like you have been sinking forever and he is still not all the way inside.

“Yeah, I know, baby,” he says. His thumb is expertly circling your clit while your whole body seems to soften, changing to fit him, like you were made for this moment. “That’s it,” he says. “Have a little trust in yourself. I know you can take it.”

His thrusts are small, his hands guiding your hips over him, grinding him deep inside you. Then you are clutching his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you slowly and steadily. It is everything you needed and not enough, only spurring more desire. You know you will need him again, the way he needs you. Just the way he says your name as he holds you, as he fucks you, as he takes you apart and puts you together again. It feels like that when you come, when he fucks you through it, saying your name and praising you.

“Good girl,” he says, barely above a breath. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

When he gets close, he pushes the seat back. You get on your knees between his legs and take him in your mouth. He comes with a low groan and another breathless slur of your name. Then you are back in his lap and his hands are everywhere, clutching you possessively to his chest. You are both breathing hard, riding the slow come-down of your frantic desperation.

“Fuck,” he eventually says. He seems shy again, giggling as he looks at you with a blush on his face. “We, uh, we just did that, in the car, uh wow, yeah, I, uh—”

“Channie,” you say with a laugh of your own, grabbing his face and kissing him. He smiles into the kiss, returning it with the same tender softness.

You kiss for a long time, ignoring the world around you. Eventually you have to crawl back into your seat and mostly redress yourselves, still smiling and giggling at each other the whole time. Your phone was buzzing in your bag so you finally check it, rolling your eyes at the message there.

You show it to Chan who laughs, blushing again, but nods.

“Right,” he says, “We should probably go get him.”

You laugh too, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to Jeongin’s message that reads: My ride fell through. When you are done not-fucking each other, can you come back and get me? Thanks. Sluts.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x reader #chan x you #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz x you #valentinesdaystories

4K notes · View notes

jaeger-tech · 1 year ago

Text

Pacific Rim Dashboard Simulator

🙇‍♀️ alphamycherno Follow

i don't know about this "let's build a wall" thing like. where's the sexiness? the vibes? what's the point of war if we don't even have hot people in big fuckass robots anymore

🎴 coyote-t Follow

there are so many legitimate, important reasons to protest the wall of life, but whatever it takes i guess. sure. it's not fuckable enough

5,345 notes

🐉 exxxtraterrestrial Follow

happy kaiju blue monday!!

#happy kaiju blue monday

137,294 notes

🦅 ppdc-confessions

Anonymous asked:

I'm a janitor at the HK shatterdome and certain two german scientists should either fuck or finally kill each other at this point, I don't care. They're always in the lab no matter the time of day so I can't avoid them and so they try to get me (the janitor) to choose sides in their domestics!! I refuse to step in that lab again and involve myself in whatever the fuck they've got going on. They'll just have to clean that shit themselves

#this is the third confession about these scientists this week are you guys okay

306 notes

🍱 scissure

are we forgetting that PPDC is literally military like you people are not immune to propaganda

☠ buena-guy Follow

You are right. The kaiju are here to bring us to justice, there's no sense in fighting them. If you also feel like this, you can find out more on my blog ❤

🍱 scissure

SILENCE, CULTIST

870 notes

💃 shatterdo-me Follow

what if we kissed in the drift 🥺👉👈 and we were both girls 😳

#ok but for real what do you mean i have to go get into the MILITARY to become a JAEGER PILOT if i want to find my SOULMATE this is so fucked up #release the tech #for the gays

38,563 notes

#pacific rim #found this in the drafts lol please feel free to add on #toad.txt #dashboard simulator #edit: sorry for calling the ppdc a military i will atone for my sins #i know gdl didn't want it to be a military. and i wouldn't want to conflate it with like us armed forces or something #but it is a militarized force is it not... and they are in a war just not with humans #and whateverthefuck pru and the black did to it #anyway this is just a silly post

6K notes · View notes

bunnyhugs77 · 7 months ago

Text

Driven 2 U

Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: am i back from the dead??

Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.

Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.

The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.

The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.

Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.

"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \

Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."

"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."

"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."

That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.

Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.

You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.

You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.

"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.

"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.

"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.

Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.

Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.

"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.

Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.

Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.

"Y/n speaking."

It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.

"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.

"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.

You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.

Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"

"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.

"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.

"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.

Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.

Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.

"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.

"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.

His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.

"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.

"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.

You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.

He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.

Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.

His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."

Oh.

"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.

Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."

Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."

"Deal."

The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."

"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.

"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."

A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.

This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.

You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.

Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.

You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.

The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.

You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.

You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.

You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.

The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.

Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.

"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.

"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.

He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.

You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.

He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.

Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.

"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."

Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"

"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."

You stood there, jaw dropped.

"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.

Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."

You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.

"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.

You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.

His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.

"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."

It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.

You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.

It's been a month.

He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.

You were spiralling, just a tad.

Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...

You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.

You shake your head.

No.

That's crazy.

You grab the keys anyway.

After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.

Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.

"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."

You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.

Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--

"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"

The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."

Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.

A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.

You sighed.

You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.

The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.

After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.

"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.

It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.

Oh boy.

'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.

'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'

She gives you a thumbs up.

Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.

But maybe this was for the best.

Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.

Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"

"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.

How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-

Oh shit.

You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.

Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.

In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.

You were headed right towards him.

You looked angry- no, upset, no-

"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.

You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"

"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.

He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.

You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.

"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.

"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.

"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."

He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.

"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."

He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."

With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.

He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.

He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.

"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.

His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.

Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.

You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.

Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.

To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.

You came with his name falling off your lips.

Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"

"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.

"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.

#bts #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #btssmuts #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic recs #dom jungkook #jeon jungkook #btsscenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader

2K notes · View notes

luvwestwood · 1 year ago

Text

❝ DON'T WORRY 'BOUT IT DARLING! ❞ - Toji Fushiguro

— (18+) YOUR CAR BREAKS DOWN DURING A SOLO TRIP, AND A KIND MR. FUSHIGURO OFFERS TO HELP.

₊˚༊*· warnings. nsfw (18+), slow burn, rough sex, hair pulling, p in v, rough sex, slight age gap (r is 22, t is 37), pet names, raw sex, backshots, pulling out/cumming on face/mouth, pussy eating, fingering, light faceslapping, toji lives in a cabin..

₊˚༊*· notes. I missed writing sm... also, this was one of those stories where i just got carried away writing.. also if your car breaks down in the middle of no where, please don't follow a random man back to his cabin. toji is not real.

7,035 words (25m read)

header art used - credits to @/yunonoai on twt!

A holiday. The perfect thing you needed to ease your mind— work had been fucking you up lately, so you specifically had requested a few days off.

Realising you never spend time with yourself, and yourself only, had brought you to the idea of going on a solo trip. Although with budget cut short, you could only opt for a solo-road-trip; still well away from the city, and everyone.

So far, you thought it was perfect. Just you and your trusty volks beetle, cruising off for a few days to be surrounded by the county’s evergreen trees, and going down a spiral of constantly smelling wet bark here and there.

Crashing at the nearest motel just a few miles south, and digging into a typical, pancake breakfast at the closest diner the next morning. Quite basic, but you thought that it was unironically the calmest idea for a 'holiday' yet.

Pressing on the playback button, the car radio immediately sounded out the currently inserted tape that was halfway played through, your eyes rolling at the song choice.

“..I wake up in the morning I got murder on my min-“

The sound of the tape bypassing the opening filled with the car, along with silence and the engine running. “Oh for fucks sake, Yuji definitely put that in there.”

Balancing between keeping your eyes on the road, and your surroundings, you toss the DVD away to the passengers side; rummaging around the glove compartment for another disk.

But you found the peace as of now quite calming, resulting in you rolling your windows down by the slightest— taking in the natural noise of the environment.

Your cheeks turned cold to the touch as the breeze wafted throughout your entire car, your back pressing against the fabric seats, eyes only closing for a millisecond to take everything in.

Dressed in a tank top and shorts, my, it seemed like you were ready for.. who knows what. Hopefully no one takes you, accidentally, for a side-street hooker.

Bit silent, you suppose— seeing that there was no other car on this specific road too. It was eerie, but enjoyable at the same time. I mean, the road was in the middle of the woods so I doubt people would be passing in and out of here often.

Hand reaching back into the glove compartment, you grab a hold of a random disk, analyzing it as soon as you withdrew your hand back into your lap.

..The Cranberries, not too bad. Something to lighten up the mood a bit. Biting down on your bottom lip, you divert your attention away from the road for a millisecond— pushing the disk into the radio player with a swift movement.

The familiar intro of Linger began to play. Your two hands clutched onto the wheel tighter, letting out a squeal as a result of hearing one of your favorite songs.

What seemed like forever, you wondered if the road was going to look different anytime soon. It felt as if you haven't seen some sort of sign telling you there would be a bed and breakfast ten minutes up, but you simply brushed it off.

"..And I'm in so deeep, you know I'm such a fool for youuu.." Taking advantage of the empty roads, you notched the volume a bit higher, belting out your shower-learnt vocals with all your heart.

Concerning LEDs flashing on your dashboard suddenly caught your eye, your singing stopping right in the middle of the chorus.

Frantically looking down at the light, and at the road in front of you, the sensible decision to pull over came across your mind— your car quickly swerving to the side of the road, Linger still, playing as everything started to go downhill.

"W-what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Your hands fall onto your lap, brows furrowed at one warning appearing after the other, a whimper slipping past your lips as worry grew.

Looking out the rear window, then to the front, you've realised you're all alone. No help nearby, not for another while. Groaning, you darted your eyes back to your dashboard, seeing about three more warnings show up.

"Fuck- not now, oh come on!" ...Can't even get peace on my day off, can I?

Pulling on the latch underneath, you popped the hood open. Killing the ignition, you grab your zip-up from the backseat, throwing it on before stepping out of the car; sizzling, and smoke coming from under the hood.

"I swear.. if this is a trap for a murder film, just take me already. My survival instincts are through the roof.."

Sighing, you lift the hood up, a big cloud of grey smoke slapping you in the face, like you could suffocate any moment now.

"The hell?!" Coughing, you fanned your face, taking a few, cautious steps back from the vehicle. As soon as the smoke had went away, you leaned back in; analysing each part of your engine.

A scoff escapes your mouth, silently laughing at yourself. "Literally what the fuck am I meant to be looking at." Knuckles resting atop your hips, you stood up straight, chipping away at your fingernails with your teeth.

"..Okay, maybe I'll try and start it... and if all goes wrong- call the insurance company."

Blowing out a relieving breath, you sit back into the driver's seat, twisting the key, trying to get your car to start.

Nothing but the sweet sound of failure. Two more tries, and still the same outcome.

"..Insurance company.. right."

Unable to locate your phone, you let out a confused noise- looking sideways and upside down your car for it. "..Where could it.. be..?"

Though.. something seemed, off. Your head slowly rose up from below the passengers seat, peeping just above the car door.

A man, walking- closer, and closer.. It seems. Your heart began to thump against your chest- begging to jump out. Breathing labored, your eyes widen, body freezing at the most inconvenient of times. Wait, is he holding an axe?

"M-my.. my phone?!" With haste in your movements, you rummage through everything like a mad man, making a total mess of your car- the same mysterious guy getting closer and closer, tauntingly walking out from the deep woods.

Sitting back against your seat, your mouth gapes open; eyes glued straight ahead. This is it, I manifested it. Now why on earth did I say that?! It's over for me, I'm cooked.

You let out a mewl, attempting to sob, solely squeezing your eyes shut. Too scared to look one last time to your side, you took a few deep breaths, chanting mini prayers to save the last bit of you.

A tap on the window came from your side, your one eye opening itself. Hesitant, you slowly turn your head; seeing a muscular torso at the window tapping the glass with the handle of his axe, before the man leans down to show his face.

Dressed in jeans and a flannel, with jagged, raven colored hair— and a face to perfectly compliment his jacked up body. I see. But now's not the time to play a dating game.

"..Ma'am?" His voice deep, and rusty, your face grew more concerned, mouth still gawking like a freak in fear.

"..God, p-please don't kill me.." A quiet peep comes from you, the man resting a hand on your roof, still bent down, and chuckling.

"Lady, I could see your car smokin' all the way from my cabin. I couldn't help but see what's the matter. You want me to check it out for you, or not?" His voice happened to be quite faint from behind the glass, though you could make out what he seemed to be saying.

"..Oh... I don't mind, I just have no clue what to do, I.." Words coming out in a blabber, you stumbled over what you wanted to say, confusion written all over the mans face.

"Slow down, will ya? Can't even comprehend half the words you're saying."

Shaking your head, you brushed it off. "You know what.. forget it.. just.. check what's happening under that hood, please?"

He nods, disappearing from your window to walk around to the front of the car. Deciding to step out too, you came to the conclusion that he seemed like an okay man to trust with your car. But you just had to make sure he wasn't gonna fit some sort of tracker underneath your engine..

Crossing your arms, you walked closer to the man, who seemed to know what he was doing. Observing from a few steps away, you watched him twist and turn at a few things, no fear in getting his hands dirty. He seemed bigger at this angle, a bit bigger than you, so if he were to murder you right now... it's over.

"..Do you always carry around that axe?" Referring to the same tool that was now on the ground, you noticed his lips curl into a smile, taking note of the fading scar on the side of his mouth also.

Letting out an amused chuckle, his eyes remained focused on the problem in front of him, but his voice was able to answer something else at the same time. "Living in the middle of the woods, I think you'd do the same."

You nod, accepting the answer with no further questions. Although a few more silly ones came out of you..

"Have you ever been chased by a bear.. while living out here?" Swaying back and forth on your tippy toes, your arms stay crossed, teeth chewing at your bottom lip as you anticipated a genuine answer.

He stops, torso still bent down but head looking up at you, facial expressions unimpressed. "Do pretty girls like you always ask all these stupid questions..?"

Blinking, you freeze, at the blunt compliment and sharp stab of his words. "..I was just curious. Also, I don't even know your name. You know, if you try to kidnap me, and I happen to escape, and-"

"Toji." Short and direct, he answers that question. "Now that you've told me your game plan, I could've easily lied about my name.

Your throat running dry, you clear it out with a grunt, Toji standing back up with an unhopeful look on his face. "..Yeah, your car is busted." He picks his axe back up, turning his body to you.

"..What? But- there's no reception here and.. I have no where to go..." Great. You've told him that you're helpless, and a young, vulnerable girl who's all alone on a solo trip.

"Wait- so you're telling me you're all alone, in the middle of these woods. Lady, do you not know that there's literally nothing here but dirt and trees?" His face scrunched up in disbelief, he genuinely wondered what a girl like you would be doing here.

"..I just wanted a holiday... on my own and.. I thought.. I could crash at some motel like in the movies and.. and.. pancakes.. oh the pancakes.." A sob chokes out of you, warm tears beginning to stain your cheeks at the thought of your vacation going downhill.

Toji, on the other hand looks more confused at this rate, his voice stammering, unsure of how to console you. A random girl, crying in front of him.. Great.

"Uh, don't cry- I didn't mean to.." Scratching at his nape, he waits until you stop crying your guts out, and successfully, you do. "Look, how about I'll fix your car for you, but first we get you a place to stay."

Sniffling, you look up at him, an ounce of hope springing back into you. "..R-really?"

Relieved, Toji was able to relax by the slightest after finally getting you to stop sobbing in front of him. Comforting wasn't his forte. "Yeah, don't worry 'bout it darling. But my cabin is the only thing I could offer right now. I told you, there's nothing in this place. No.. 'motel'..."

Looking back at your busted car, then returning to Toji, he shrugs his shoulders; mouthing, 'the choice is yours.' He wasn't pressuring you at all, but it was true that there was no other option. Outside the city wasn't all that, and you learnt the hard way.

"...Fine, just don't.. don't murder me.. I don't wanna die." Toying with the zip of your hoodie, you divert your gaze away from Toji, deciding to look at the ground instead.

He grunts, grabbing his head in frustration. "Would you quit with that murder bull-crap?! How many times do I have to say it. Should be me who's scared of a Michael Myers venturing 'round these woods." Toji shakes his head in disapproval. "Just grab your things and get movin' will you? Sun's about to set soon."

Unamused yourself, you shoot him a glare, walking over to the backseat door to grab your backpack full of everything. Slamming the door shut, you sensibly grab your keys, properly locking everything before Toji shuts the hood, resting his axe on his shoulder.

The man gestures you to follow him, hopefully not towards your death. Trailing behind his large figure, Toji occasionally glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were still there and didn't happen to run off; more than certain that you were shitting your pants right now.

Readjusting the heavy backpack on your shoulder, you struggled, mentally complaining, but too afraid to ask if you were there yet. Guess you'll take the blame for this one. Should've packed light I suppose..

"We're here, incase you were wondering." Toji stops in his tracks, turning his body back around to face you before making his way to the onto the porch.

Surprisingly, it was nice and big, and seemed homely. "Not gonna lie, I thought you lived in a run down shack in the middle of no where. With like, bugs and stuff?"

"Who do you take me for?" He scoffs, "Come in when you're ready. Also mind your step." Toji points out the mini stairs just below the porch, before disappearing off inside. He really made sure that you didn't feel pressured to do anything whatsoever. So he let you enter at your own will.

Taking note of your surroundings outside one last time, you let out a deep breath before stepping inside.

Warm air engulfed you, heat coming from a well built fire place. It actually was nice inside, and everything everywhere made sense. The architecture of the cabin really had Toji written all over it.

Nothing was run down. It felt like a home, just with a rustic style to it. The sofa actually had a throw draped over it, a flat screen tv mounted just above the fireplace. There was also a nice view of a body of water outside some large windows.

Toji paced around the sofas just after resting his axe safely in a corner, stretching his arms out; toned muscles flexing from the warm, yellowish light in the cabin.

"Make yourself at home, you take my room tonight. I'll crash on the sofa." He makes his way to the other side of the cabin, supposedly the entrance to his bedroom. Toji leaning against the door frame, he watched as you stood still in one spot, still observing your surroundings.

"Also has its own bathroom, so no need to worry about me walking in on you. There's locks too from the inside. And I don't care about you going through anything. I've got nothing to hide." Toji continues, he sure knows the questions you're about to ask. This man is always thinking ahead.

"..Thanks, Toji. That's really nice of you." Walking closer to the entrance of his room, you slide the backpack off your shoulder, holding onto the heavy load with two hands at this point. The backpack swings between your legs as you walk past him, Toji grunting before leaving you be.

He fucks off somewhere into the kitchen, meanwhile you lock the doors behind you immediately. You already smelled of bark and leaves, and not to mention, the stinky smoke from your car earlier.

Tossing your backpack onto an armchair nearby, eye glancing over a few frames with Toji in them. Some of him alone, with a fish in his hand, the other.. Possibly some old friends.

Curious, you looked around the dresser for some more things that could tell you a bit more about himself.

In the corner was a birthday card, which didn't evidently tell you his age, but you found out as soon as you opened it up to see what was written.

"Happy Birthday big guy, can't beleeve your old ass is 37! - Your pal, Gojo🖕"

Who the hell is Gojo? And, that's not old.. right? You scoffed more so at the fact that the word 'believe' was spelt wrong other than the badly drawn middle finger. Just a little habit of yours you can't control. Considering you were 22, Toji was kind of old enough to be your guardian, somehow.. but let's not get into that.

Attempting to place the card exactly where it had belonged, you were happy enough with your first try; still curious to find any hidden gems, but you were unsuccessful.

Letting out a hum, you took another look around your surroundings, nodding gently in approval at the view that he also had just outside of his bedroom. Seems like he knew how to build this place the way he wanted to.

Halfway pacing around his room, you realised that he probably thinks you've been silent for too long. Deciding to step into his bathroom, notice a shaver and some cream on the sink. Allowing the shower to run, you hoped the noise would calm his nerves to let him know you're still here, and alive.

Oh, being a curious cat you open his mirror cabinet just to take a tiny peek before your shower. Says he's got nothing to hide, so..

After-shave, lotion, pain-killers and a box.. An unopened box of extra large condoms.

You gulp before blinking rapidly, closing the mirror cabinet without a second to waste. You weren't sure if you should be mortified or impressed and relieved that they were unopened. Wait, as if it matters?

Locking the bathroom door just to be cautious, you quickly did so before stripping your clothes completely to the ground, kicking off your converse and socks before hopping into the warm shower.

The droplets trickled down your body, feeling more calm now that you've had a shower. Allowing the water to run over your hair, you scrubbed your scalp with your fingertips, completely soaking your body. You looked over to the shower caddy hanging on the wall before grabbing a familiar brand of shampoo.

Massaging that into your hair, you hurried on with your shower, making sure that you didn't hog all the hot water. You assumed that he had to start up a big ass generator minutes away just to get a drop of it, forgetting the fact that it was '24, and there was some such thing as a boiler.

The shower ended up being just fine, and Toji didn't bother you at all. He didn't force the door open, don't worry; and everything was just the way it was left in the room.

You didn't have anything else left to wear than the matching tank and shorts set you bought at TJ-Maxx solely for this solo trip. You didn't have to worry about your feet being cold, as the hardwood floors were surprisingly heated.

Quickly drying your hair with one of his towels, you figured that he didn't have a hairdryer, so you had no choice but to leave it to air dry.

Finally unlocking the bedroom door, you opened it to see Toji busy behind the kitchen island. Assuming he was cooking, you made your way closer, sitting on a bar stool nearby.

Toji had a tea towel draped over his shoulder, and the smell of cooked meat entered your nostrils.

"If you're a vegan, it's your unlucky day." He says, clearly knowing you were seated behind him.

You laugh, resting your elbows on the counter, watching him like a hawk . "I eat everything, don't worry."

"Good." He says before turning back towards you with a plate of steak, potatoes and asparagus. Unlike earlier, this time a pleasant cloud of steam hit you in the face, the smell making your tummy grumble.

Toji has a plate of his own, leaning against the counter behind him as he watches your every move, waiting for you to take a bite. He pokes at a potato, tossing it into his mouth before saying something.

"Wake up early tomorrow, I'll teach you what to do in case something like this happens again. I don't expect you to follow a man again back to his cabin in the middle of no where.." Prodding at a few more pieces of steak, he notices you were busy digging into your own plate.

You just let out a hum of approval, Toji slowly sliding a glass of water towards you before you could choke anytime soon.

Setting your cutlery down, you look up at Toji standing, busy eating his own dinner. Here comes the wave of questions.. "Hmm, do you ever get lonely out here?"

Unphased by the question, Toji continues eating, but answers your curiosity. "Nah, I like being alone. I'm used to it anyways. Friends do come visit, but not always." He shrugs, unable to make eye contact with you.

"..I see.." Nodding, your mind jumps back to the unopened box of condoms back in Toji's bathroom, your inner voice mentally cursing at yourself for being too curious.

Letting famish get the best of you, you devoured everything on the plate in record breaking time, politely pairing the cutlery together on the dish. "Uhm, Toji? I can clean up. It's the least I could do."

The man just finishing his own plate, he sets it on the counter beside him, looking at you, impressed. "Seriously? 'right then."

Hopping off the stool, you make your way past him, feeling Toji's gaze burn into the back of your head, before you reached around him for his plate, and your own on the island. Bringing the two to the sink, you began to wash them with the sponge, occasionally looking out the kitchen window.

It had gone dark quickly. Who knows if Toji never had come across you.

"You got a boyfriend or what?" A first time question from the man, and it was one you didn't expect. He remained leaning against the counter, watching your every move from behind you.

Suppressing a panicked turn of your head, you kept your vision down at the dishes, gliding your hand over the dishes and under the water, you gulped before answering.

"No, not anymore. I broke up with him cause I found out he was cheating on me with some girl on the majorette team in college." Your insides burned at the memory of you walking in on them at a party bathroom, but you didn't let it get to you, not now.

Toji didn't let out a hum of approval, and instead stayed quiet. All he did was place your empty glass beside the sink that you seemed to have forgotten all about. Taking that too, you scrubbed it with the sponge before rinsing it off and placing it on the drying rack.

"All done," you dried your hands on the fabric of your shorts behind you, turning back around to Toji who was in the same position, but this time, his hands held onto the counter's edge on either side of him.

Peering at the drying rack around you, he pouted in approval, "Done a fairly good job I suppose,"

You scoff, "It was just washing dishes. Nothing hard."

"I'll be right back. No tomfoolery, and don't open that door." Toji glances to the front door, before disappearing off into his bedroom, the door closing. You thought nothing of it, walking over to the L-shaped sofa to see what was on TV. Some stupid deer documentary was on, typical, but you changed it to something more entertaining like a soap.

You assumed that he had no Netflix on it, and you were right. You can't really imagine Toji watching an episode of The Office.

Propping the side of your head onto your knuckles, your eyes bored at the screen, barely paying attention to what was on the TV. Glancing over to the clock on the wall, you read the time to be almost 9 o'clock, which shocked you.

Letting out your fifth sigh of the day, you flickered back and forth through the channels before hearing a door open behind you, Toji stepping out of his room, and this time, dressed in grey sweats and a t-shirt. His hair was slightly damp, as you noticed him sitting just after your feet, ensuring a distance between you two.

"What's this crap you're watching?" Toji rests his elbows on his knees before relaxing back onto the sofa, legs spreading as he made himself comfortable.

Tossing the remote over to his side, you roll your eyes. "Knew you would say that."

The man attempted to focus on the shit show in front of him, brows furrowing, but eventually he seemed interested.

Sitting up, you cross your legs, groaning. "There's nothing good on TV. I'm going to bed."

Toji looked to his side, watching as you stood up and left, and he had to admit— he did get a look at your behind. But no one could beat that out of him. "Alright, suit yourself. Sweet dreams. Remember, up early tomorrow."

You glanced behind your shoulder before stepping into his room, not shutting the door fully but leaving a slight gap between the frame and the door itself.

After scavenging through the side pocket of your backpack, you returned back into Toji's bathroom with your toothbrush this time. Stealing a pea of his own toothpaste, you stared at yourself in his mirror as you brushed away.

You could still hear his TV coming from outside, and it sounded like the channel didn't change. He was probably fixated on the show by now. After spitting out, you rinsed off your toothbrush, before heading back out to place it back into your backpack.

Before hopping into bed, you neatly folded your things away, ensuring you cleaned up after yourself as you hated leaving a mess behind, especially if you weren't in a space of your own.

Letting out a sigh, you crawled into his bed, surprisingly filled with two fluffy pillows, and not just one flat ass cushion. Toji's bed strongly smelled like aftershave, supposedly the one in his bathroom mirror. It was comforting though, and wasn't an unpleasant scent.

Covering your upper half with the duvet, you laid flat on your back, eyes staring up at the ceiling before your lids slowly grew heavy and soon enough, closing shut.

You managed to sleep halfway through the night, until, it had began to thunder, and rain heavily. The drops pattered against the glass window, waking you from your slumber inconveniently.

Sitting up in bed, you look around, noticing everything was still the same. The door remained slightly open, and you could see that the TV has still been on until now, but sounded different.

Looking out the window, you couldn't see much from the heavy rain blinding the environment. It was lashing outside, and unfortunately, you were unable to fall back into sleep.

Pursing your lips together, you climbed out of bed, making your way to the door before opening it by a bit.

You treaded lightly, seeing Toji's head behind the sofa. Unable to tell if he was asleep or not, noticing that the TV was on, you approached him closer. Your head peeked over the sofa slightly, voice calling out his name.

"..Toji? ....Toji." You let out a loud whisper, the man grunting and turning his head around. It seems that he was fast asleep, but... sitting up. How scary.

"I can't sleep.. the weather, it's really awful outside." Nipping at the fabric of your shorts, you sucked in a labored breath of air through your nostrils before initiating a question. "..Can you- sleep beside me?"

Toji seemed less asleep, and now, he was wide awake. He looked over to the clock before reaching for the remote to switch off the TV. It was halfway through one in the morning. "What are you, nine?" He laughs before getting up from the sofa, trailing behind the sofa to follow you back into the room.

He questioned no more, and agreed. He'd do anything to be back in his room anyways, in the comfort of his bed, but of course knowing Toji— he'd never admit that.

The two of you hurried back into the bedroom, Toji automatically walking over to his side, while you, crawl back into bed. Making yourself comfortable again, you drape the cover over yourself, feeling the weight of the bed shift beside you, Toji making himself comfortable also.

You turn to your side, back facing Toji, unable to have him stare at your face all night. The room grew silent, and only the sound of the rain tapping against the window could be heard. Though you could still feel his gaze burning into your back, which happened to go away soon enough.

"No stupid stuff." He suddenly blurts out, which you were unable to decipher. Was he talking about what you thought he meant?

You decided not to respond, and instead, shifted around. You could feel Toji's natural body warmth all over your back, and with one more shift, you realised that he was close to you, actually, way too close to you.

But it was too late to move back, as you were too scared of irritating him by shuffling around so much that he'd kick you out.

A large hand snakes onto the side of your waist, gently gripping at your stomach. "Quit movin' around so much, will you?" It was Toji's hand, and he firmly kept you in place. Preventing any further movement. The continuous friction of your shorts against him had aroused him of some sort, and it was uncontrollable.

Another hard bump rested on the behind of your shorts, your eyes flying wide open, unable to shut now. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know.. I'll stop."

"Sure, you didn't know what you were doing?" You couldn't see the expression on his face, and could only judge by the tone of his voice. Too bad you were facing away from him right now.

Giving in, your body aggressively shifts to face him, the natural moonlight peering through the windows leaving a bright enough glow on his face.

You gulp, Toji hesitantly using his finger to move away the fly-aways covering your face to get a better look at you. "..Don't know why that jerk cheated on you."

"..You don't know me, so.." You let out, Toji's brows furrowing as he studied your features harder.

Alternating between your eyes and lips, he let out a mixture of a grunt and a laugh. "Should go for a real man."

Your breath hitches at his remark, your mind trailing off to other translations of his sentence. He talking about the fucking, or dating aspect?

Silence grew between you, his thumb carefully swiping over your soft bottom lip. The air grew thicker and thicker, a sort of tension lingering throughout the room. You couldn't tell what initiated it, but the air felt suffocating, like it had its own hold of you.

Leaning in closer to his face, your warm breath fanned against his lips before he cupped your cheek with his hand, holding you close as your mouths latched onto each other. The tension between you two diminishing as your tongues intertwined.

Toji laid flat on his back as you straddled him under the sheets, the kiss turning sloppier, with a blend of spit coating your chins, the two of you moaning into each other.

You whimper, pulling away as you felt his teeth tug onto your bottom lip, a long, string of saliva creating a bridge between the two of you, both panting, chests heaving heavily.

Swiftly stripping your tank above your head, the sudden air had bit your skin, nipples growing hard to the touch, all perky and erect. Unable to see in the midst of the fabric covering your sights, you could feel both of Toji's large hands cupping your breasts, massaging them— thumbs toying teasingly at your nipples.

Palms pressing onto the flat of your back, Toji guides your hips with no rush in his movements, back and forth, groaning at the grinding sensation over his sweats, head heavily leaning against the pillow. Your top slides down onto the bedroom floor, breath irregular as you felt the thick tent in his pants dig into you.

You both swap positions, Toji flipping the two of you around with ease and no struggle in his demeanor, the man anchoring himself between your thighs.

Toji's lips latch onto your breasts, warm mouth wrapped around one, sucking away hungrily as he fondled with the other. A pop leaves his mouth as he lets go, using a finger to flicker your nipple gently, your warm, spit-covered nipples growing hard once again as soon as it meets the cold air.

You watch as Toji goes down on you, breath shaking as he peppered kisses down your stomach, disappearing underneath the sheets; leaving a few pecks dangerously close, and somewhere on your inner thigh.

Feeling his pointer and middle finger tug at the waistband of your shorts, you could tell that he was waiting; and so you raised your hips up slightly, allowing him to drag them down your legs.

His hands clasp around your two thighs, bringing you closer to his face, though you just couldn't see; Toji's tongue leaving behind a wet stripe against your clothed pussy, your body shuddering at the feeling.

Your mouth could only gape open, your eyes peering up at the same ceiling as you let out breathless moans here and there.

Toji's middle finger tugged your panties to the side, allowing your bare pussy to be on show to him completely, finally landing yet another stripe with his warm tongue. He eagerly sucks, sticking his same middle finger in, fucking your hole gently as he alternates between licking and fingering.

Letting out quiet moans, you fondle with your breasts, legs squirming as he inserted another digit, Toji using both hands to rip your underwear completely as he sucked on your clit

Your hand reaches for the pillow behind you, fingers clawing at the fabric.

Toji raised his own hips, practically on his knees to be able to palm at his own cock as played with you for your own pleasure, getting off to your moans as he continued to have you undone with his touch.

You could hear him grunt lowly, from time to time, but grunting in disapproval whenever you'd stamp your thighs on either side of his head, trapping him between your legs.

Your head leaning back, you gasped, eyes rolling as Toji curled his fingers up into you, eventually allowing his movements to come to a complete halt, your throat mewling in dissatisfaction.

"Not so fast, wanna feel you cum 'round something else," Toji appears in front of you, arising from under the sheets; stripping his own shirt off his body before tossing it somewhere across the room.

His body shifted around, and you assumed it was to get the condoms, where you already knew was located. Though you quickly took a hold of the strings on his waistband, pulling him back.

"No- I wanna feel you raw, Toji," Looking up at him as you said so, still laid on your back; the man could've sworn that his cock twitched at what you had just said.

Surprisingly, he nods, moving about to get his pants fully off him, struggling a bit, but managing in the end.

Toji uses a hand to jerk his thick length repeatedly, the other free playing with the flesh on your waist. "You sure about this?"

"I am." You replied, busy wondering how he was gonna fit inside of you. The condoms weren't lying.

Slightly and slowly pushing his tip into you, followed by the rest, the two of you groaned at the feeling, Toji grabbing onto both sides of your waist eventually; grip growing tighter as he stuffed you full. Your fingers clawed at his wrists, a moan escaping your mouth as you felt his girth stretching you out, Toji using his thumbs to caress your sides gently.

"All good?" He made sure, and you nod, letting him know that he could move, and you were perfectly fine.

Toji's hips began to rock back and forth, occasional groans coming from him, mentally thanking you for the fact that you let him do it raw.

"..F-faster," you let out, Toji now placing both of his hands on either side of your head, his hips bucking into you faster and deeper; the bed slightly creaking from his movements.

He continues to groan endlessly, head jerking back as he felt your gummy walls take him completely, cursing over and over again. Toji smashes his lips onto yours again, you moaning as a result, the man taking your head into his hands as he held you close; forehead leaning on yours as his cock bullied your insides relentlessly.

Pulling away, Toji grabs both of your legs, resting your ankle on each of his shoulders— allowing him to fuck into you deeper, and be impossibly closer, the man fucking you into a nasty mating press as the creaking intensifies; the headboard beginning to hit against the walls, the legs of the bed scratching all over the floorboards.

"S-shit, To-oji," Voice breaking up your words, you dig your fingertips deep into the muscle on his shoulder, Toji moaning closely against the shell of your ear.

He growls, resting his forehead on yours once again, maintaining eye contact with you, so intimately; "That's it doll, moan my name, come on," he coos, watching as your eyes squeeze shut; the man reaching his hand up to gently slap it against your cheek— telling you to keep your eyes on him.

You do so, and endlessly chant his name like a prayer; Toji grinning and leaving a peck on your lips before letting your legs go, allowing them to flop on either sides of his waist, effortlessly flipping you back around.

Pulling out rapidly, the flat of his palm presses against your spine. Hands kneading at your ass cheeks as he spreads them apart, leaving a long wet lick from your pussy past your asshole, he slides his cock back into your dripping hole— maintaining his previous pace as he holds onto the headboard, drilling into you with no mercy.

Beads of sweat glistened his body like that pane of glass, strands of his recently washed hair now sticking to his forehead.

"Atta girl," he moans, slapping your ass and leaving a red hand-print. "Fuck, take this cock," Your ass rippling against his pelvis, Toji grabs a handful of the soft of your cheeks, fucking you back onto his cock; a symphony of ass slapping, and balls hitting against your clit sounding throughout the room.

Your forehead falls heavy onto the pillow, voice muffled as you moaned helplessly into it; Toji fucking you in all the right spots, he meant it when he said you should find yourself a real man. He was showing you, what a real man was.

"C'mon baby, I wanna feel you cum all over me, p-please?" Toji pleads, his thrusts slowing in pace, but still rutting in deep as he fucks you passionately, guiding you by your waist back and forth on his cock to get those last few strokes.

Toji leans forward, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, feeling down your back as he left a few more, shivers going down your spine as he roamed his hands all over you,

A creamy ring forms at his shaft, thickening over time as he continued to fuck in and out of you; playfully pulling his thick cock out to heavily rest it against your ass, gliding it between your cheeks before sliding it back in. His tip red, and glossy, your eyes rolled as he slipped himself inside.

Toji picks up the pace once more, urging you to your orgasm; your fingers clawing behind you, trying to stop him from moving any more, your two legs shaking as they attempted to stay up, and support you in your arch.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back towards him; fucking your mind as he finishes you off from behind. "I'm gonna c-cum, oh fuck," you squeal, eventually making a mess all over his cock, squirting— Toji still fucking into you as your orgasm had washed over your body.

A dark puddle forms on the bedsheets underneath you, and your slick soaks on the flat of his thighs, a squelching noise emitting from underneath as you lazily rubbed circles on your clit; eyes rolling from the several sensations hitting you all at once— Toji’s cock continuing to piston into you.

Toji grunts, feeling you clench and unclench round his cock; a firm slap stinging against your left cheek as he instantly pulls out. "Turn around," he commands, breathing heavily and you obey; a firm grip still in your hair— the man guiding his cock with his index and thumb towards your lips.

Slapping his heavy girth against your mouth, warm ropes of white decorate your face; Toji grunting as he watches your face be painted with white, smearing his artwork all over your face, pushing his tip gently into your mouth as you sucked, sticking your tongue out for visual confirmation of the white orb of cum resting on it.

"Fuck.." he whispers, "Swallow it baby," Toji smacks his tip against your cheek, soon enough letting go of your scalp as he jerked his cock with a last few strokes.

Upon letting go, he immediately cupped your face into his palms once again, rewarding you with a tender kiss on the lips, sneaking a quick fondle at your breast.

Toji glances out the window, returning his gaze back to you glowing under the moon's light. The loud storm had stopped long ago. "..Don't you think those backshots were louder than that thunder clapping out there?"

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

2K notes · View notes

andvys · 2 months ago

Text

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter six

⭐︎ The killing time. Unwillingly mine.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, post apocalypse, gore, mentions of death, killing zombies, mentions of blood

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Another kind of tension starts building between you and Steve the longer you spend time on the road.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: Things are getting interesting y'all. This is only gonna get better from now on hehe. And a quick reminder, @hellfire--cult helped me with this chapter as always (this is our baby) (Also, I think it's so easy to tell who writes what parts. Roe always writes in past tense, while I write in present tense and most of the time I'm too lazy to fix it oops)

⭐︎ series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter ⭐︎ next chapter

☀︎

Eddie bops his head to some 70s song as he drives on the lone and abandoned highway, tapping the steering wheel, he hums along. Nancy is in the passenger seat next to him with her feet on the dashboard and a book in her hands.

Steve sits on the bench across from you, his hands are on the table, fingers playing with his switchblade as he looks out the window. It’s raining today. Your eyes follow the raindrops that roll down the windows.

There is a comfortable silence between all of you, only the sound of the music and the rain fills the big RV. It’s almost odd how normal this feels like you are just a group of friends going on a road trip and not one trying to survive while making it to the other side of the country after the world ended.

It’s easy to pretend at certain moments. When you are driving through parts of the country that had been untouched by the upside down. Where nature is still blooming and alive, where the roads aren’t blocked by abandoned cars. In those moments it’s easy to pretend that you are just a group of friends doing this for fun. But those moments of pretend only last for a few seconds, until you take a look at your clothes that you can’t stand anymore or when you eat another bowl of something canned but worst of all; when you have to look over your shoulder after every step that you take, fearing something or someone creeping up on you and your friends.

“Guys,” Eddie’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “There’s an exit in about two miles, should we try our luck or keep driving?”

Nancy stops reading her book, narrowing her eyes as she looks outside.

Your eyes meet Steve’s. He raises his eyebrows at you, knowing that you have been desperately looking for new clothes.

“Yeah, we could try.” Nancy shrugs before she goes back to reading her book.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror.

“What do you say, sweets?”

You don’t notice the way Steve huffs or the way he rolls his eyes as he sinks back into his seat.

You nod, smiling at the metalhead.

“Let’s try! We all need warmer clothes!”

“Alright, the exit it is,” Eddie grins.

Steve watches the way your smile widens as you still look at Eddie, the way something glints in your eyes as you sigh in contentment keeping your gaze still locked on him for a few more seconds before you look outside again.

Something in his chest stirs, something unpleasant. He suddenly doesn’t taste the mint flavor of his gum anymore as something sour settles on his tongue. His stomach twists in a way it always did when he was a teenager, when he watched others get what he wanted.

You are not something he wants. He has no interest in you. You are a friend, that’s all. But annoyance bubbles up inside of him whenever he watches your interactions with Eddie. Whenever he sees how sweet he is with you and how his flirtations make you blush.

He wonders if you like him.

He isn’t sure if he would like it if you did.

It troubles him more than he would like to admit and it brings up scenarios in his head that he finds unpleasant to even think about.

Your squeal startles him and pulls him out of his thoughts. You jump up, wasting no time to grab your gear before you make your way out of the RV.

Even though it’s Eddie and Nancy who call out to you, it’s Steve who runs after you first. With his rifle slung over his shoulder and his trusted bat in his hand. He gives Eddie and Nancy a stern look, “stay here, I’ll go with her. Keep the motor running.”

Eddie frowns, shaking his head, “I was the one who saw the sign, dude–”

“You stay here, Munson.” He glares at him before he looks down at Nancy. “Both of you.”

He doesn’t give them the chance to even utter a single word before he takes off after you, looking over his shoulder to give another pointed look at Eddie who rolls his eyes at him.

Steve grumbles your name in annoyance as he watches you struggle with the crowbar.

“You can’t just run out like this, just because the area looks safe doesn’t mean that it is safe!” He mumbles. Frustration built up in him.

“Shush, Steve!” You say cheerfully. “I have hope that I will find clothes here!”

He scrunches his face up and squints his eyes as he looks at the sign above the store, it hangs loosely from the wall, broken and shattered and covered in dirt. The windows are still intact and the door seems to be locked. The mannequins are still clothed as well so yeah, maybe you do have a chance.

“You don’t know what could be in there just because this door is locked doesn’t mean that there aren’t other ways to get in–”

A loud click echoes through the empty streets, followed by a cheerful squeal from you. You look over your shoulder, grinning at him proudly.

“Only one way to find out,” you shrug. Putting the crowbar back into your backpack, you reach for your machete again. You press your palm against the dusty door but he stops you with his hand on your shoulder.

“I’m going in first,” he sighs, pushing you behind him slowly.

You give him an innocent smile, blinking up at him in satisfaction.

“I won’t argue with that.”

Steve snorts, rolling his eyes yet again.

“What a surprise,” he murmurs under his breath. He takes another look around, ignoring your eyes that are set on him.

He gets that feeling. Every time something bad is about to happen, he gets that certain feeling that unsettles him. For the longest time, he couldn’t place it and he didn’t understand it until that bad thing had already happened and he realized too late that something was warning him.

It changed after Robin’s death.

But right now, he feels calmness inside of him, nothing unsettling. Yet, he is still careful when he takes the first step inside the abandoned store. His grip is tight on his bat, his eyes scanning the place as he tries to pick up on any sign that something is in here. He is quiet on his feet and he is on full alert.

Just like you are.

You are right behind him, ready to sling your machete at anything that may come running out of the shadows, ready to make you both its feast.

But the store is clean aside from the dust that covers every surface.

You make your way through every aisle. You check behind the cash register just to be sure. You look for any open windows or other ways inside this building. Steve insists on checking the break room by himself but you don’t let him. You follow him, covering his back just in case.

“Alright, it’s clear in here,” Steve whispers.

You watch the tension fall from his shoulders and from his face and you see the way his features soften after he takes a deep breath.

Despite living in a world like this, so unlike from the one you grew up in. You don’t share this tension and this fear with him but you also didn’t lose your best friend and watch her get ripped apart before you. You understand him. Even if you don’t feel the same, you understand him.

He doesn’t want to see that happening again – to anyone.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped out of the RV the way I did.”

Steve swallows, nodding in agreement. His hazel eyes glare a little into yours.

“Yeah you’re right, you shouldn’t have,” he mumbles, sighing. He wants to roll his eyes again when you look down with a guilty look on your face. He hates it when you do that. “It’s fine, let’s get those clothes, sunshine.” He nudges your shoulder with his finger, giving you the smallest smile when you look up at him again.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Please look for a new jacket, a warmer one!”

He chuckles softly. His eyes follow you when you walk away.

“You too.”

Excitement rushes through you so strongly that you don’t even know what section to check first. It’s been so long since you had last stepped foot into a store that still looked so normal, like it has been untouched by this world. This store froze in time, just like the clothes in it, the fashion that was in trend while the world was ending.

Bright colors you normally would have picked, you skip. They don’t fit into this world.

You start by looking for a pair of new jeans before you move onto sweaters, picking some out for Nancy as well. You want to pick the pastel colors out for her so badly, thinking they will suit her but it’s always best to go for clothes that blend in better outside, ones that don’t attract unwanted attention.

The items start piling up on your arm and you end up getting a cart, something that makes Steve chuckle when you finally bump into each other in the shoe section.

“We need to gear up on winter clothes, how are you gonna survive with that?” You ask, frowning at the clothes in his basket. You see some knitted sweaters, t-shirts and wool socks but no sign of what you told him to look for. “You better get that jacket or I’ll get it for you, Steve.”

You glare at him and it only makes him want to chuckle even more – not because he is laughing at you. But because he thinks that the frown on your face is adorable. You threatening him is adorable.

“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands up in surrender.

Your eyes keep scanning the basket and they light up when you notice the socks he threw in there. The Garfield socks.

A smug smile stretches across your face and you look up at him a little evilly.

“You wear Garfield socks?”

Steve looks down into his basket and his cheeks light up suddenly, blushing red. Though he shakes his head when he raises his head to look at you.

“They’re not for me,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. “They’re for Eddie. He’s like obsessed with Garfield. He had Garfield pajamas at home, I’m pretty sure he packed his Garfield mug into his box somewhere.”

A giggle falls from your lips. You tilt your head to the side, pouting softly.

“Aw! Eddie is so cute! I adore him!” You say before you turn around and continue your little shopping spree.

Oh, so you adore him now?

The unpleasant feeling in his chest spreads even more as he stares at the back of your head. His eyebrows are scrunched together so strongly that there is almost no space left between them.

A huff falls from his lips as he forces his eyes away from you. He gets up, glaring down at the socks in his basket.

“Cute,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes again.

“Get yourself a jacket, Steve!” You call through the store, reminding him yet again.

“Yeah, yeah…” He mumbles as he finally listens to you and goes on a hunt for a warmer jacket. His thoughts are troubled though and he doesn’t even know why. He doesn’t like the thought of you liking Eddie. It’s not that he wants you to like him instead. It’s just that he thinks it would make things complicated in your group when you are all growing closer.

He has been through that before and it only made things awkward. When he was so desperate to feel something again and he set his eyes on his ex-girlfriend again, almost ruining the friendship that just started blooming between them. He confessed his undying love for her when all he wanted was to feel something real. She was the only real relationship he had. Every other relationship was short lived, superficial and meaningless. No one ever bothered to actually get to know him and not the guy everyone liked; King Steve.

He thought she was the exception, that she wasn’t like the others – and she wasn’t. But she never planned on sticking around either and he crashed hard when he realized that he was never something real to her like she was to him.

When those old feelings came back, he didn’t realize that it wasn’t because he wanted her back. It would have been stupid to want someone back who hurt him like that. He was just desperate to feel something again after every failed date and every failed almost-relationship. He wanted to feel even if it was hurt.

Now he knows how stupid it was to almost ruin the new connection that was growing between them – a genuine friendship. It took him a while to see that they were always better off as friends but when he finally did, it started to make sense why they didn’t work.

If he could tell his 17 year old self that he would move on from Nancy Wheeler and lose all the feelings he ever had and become friends with her instead, that teenage boy would probably stare at him in horror.

Steve stumbles around the store, lost in his thoughts as he throws more clothes into his basket. When he is done, he starts looking for you, going through one empty aisle after the other before he finally finds you. It takes him a moment to realize the section he walked into and when he does he freezes a little. A blush creeps onto his cheeks when he looks around the items. The soft colors, the lace, the frill. The mannequins dressed in lingerie.

He scratches the back of his neck and takes a deep breath but it gets stuck in his throat when he finds you standing in the corner, holding up two different types of panties. A pink pair, laced. And the black one is a… thong. Steve blinks as he stares at you, unable to look away even though he knows he should. He knows he should give you privacy. Step away and pretend like he has seen nothing but he can’t.

His blushing cheeks turn red, glowing like they haven’t since god knows when. His body heats up as his mind takes him to places it hasn’t been since years but when he watches you stuff both panties into your backpack, the boyish part in him just can’t help it.

Steve never wondered what you wore under your clothes before, now he knows and it does little to mend the heat in his body. It awakens something in him that died a long time ago.

God. He needs fresh air, he needs it now.

He takes a few steps back, trying to be quiet and discreet but when he turns around, he walks face first into the poorly dressed mannequin, pushing it over and causing it to crash into the other one. It all goes so quickly, he can’t even reach out to catch them before they stumble to the ground loudly.

“Fuck,” he curses through gritted teeth. He shuts his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath before he slowly turns around to face you again despite the blush on his cheeks.

Your eyes are wide and by the expression on your face, he knows that you have flinched.

You look between him and the two mannequins on the ground. Your heart is pounding in your chest from the sudden noise that startled you but you start calming down quickly when you realize that it wasn’t anything to freak out over but something to laugh at.

You have never seen him like this – eyes wide, cheeks red, awkwardness written all over his face. He looks embarrassed and his hands are still frozen in the air after trying to catch the mannequins.

He looks like a teenager caught staring at boobs in a magazine for the first time.

You have to admit, it’s quite a sight, amusing to say the least. You just know that he is beating himself up over this and you can’t help but start giggling, wanting nothing more than to tease the poor guy.

“Do you need me to leave you guys alone?” You ask, giggling as you point between him and the figures lying on the floor.

“I-I’m what…?!” He shakes his head, not getting your joke.

You snort and reach for your cart, you start pushing it towards him, smiling smugly as you stop beside him.

“I thought you were some sort of playboy back in the day?” You smirk, blinking up at him. You want to giggle again when you realize just how red his cheeks actually are. “What kind of playboy starts blushing because of a few naked mannequins?”

Steve knows you’re enjoying this, he can see it in your eyes, they’re flashing with mischief and the smirk on your lips might be a rare sight but it’s so strong right now.

You don’t give him a chance to reply to your teasing comment. Your giggle echoes when you continue your way out of this section, beginning to hum in satisfaction while he still stands there.

“I’ll be outside!” You say with a sing-song voice.

Steve closes his eyes and he finally breathes again.

If only you knew why he is blushing the way that he is.

By the time he comes out of the store and makes his way back into the RV, Nancy and Eddie are kneeling on the floor, looking through the stuff you got for them and for yourself. He avoids your eyes when he walks in. His cheeks are still burning, he can feel that.

“You know me so well, sweetheart.” Eddie grins at you as he holds up a Metallica shirt. “I don’t even have to go in there myself.”

You smile at him proudly.

“Maybe to grab a jacket,” Nancy shrugs as she tries on the olive colored one you got for her. You reach over to her, fixing the brown color.

“Thanks,” she smiles at you.

Steve clears his throat and takes out a black jacket from the basket he carried the whole time, not giving the metalhead on the floor time to react before the jacket hits him in the face.

A grunts leaves Eddie’s face as he catches it before it falls on the floor.

“Give a guy some time to react,” Eddie mumbles as he unfolds the jacket, holding it up to take a look at it. “Fancy.” He squints his eyes as he looks at the price tag. “See, this is what I love about the apocalypse, we can just grab whatever the hell we want. This thing would’ve cost me a liver back then, now? I can just take that shit and go.” He chuckles to himself as he puts it on. “Fits perfectly, thanks man!” He finally looks up at Steve and his grins widens instantly when he notices the red cheeks. He raises his eyebrows at him, tilting his head to the side in question.

Steve huffs at him which only makes Eddie more curious.

“I got you a bunch of panties and socks as well!” You say to Nancy, taking the items out of your backpack and throwing them onto Nancy’s lap.

Her blue eyes widen and she quickly puts the packs of panties away, hiding them from the male eyes’.

Eddie furrows his brows. Amused he looks down at your lap to find the flimsy material, lace and ruffles. He doesn’t think anything of it, though his eyes instantly move back to Steve’s and realization rushes through him quickly.

A smirk tugs at his lips when Steve starts glaring at him, threatening him with his eyes to keep his mouth shut.

Steve knows that Eddie won’t let him live this down. Blushing over a few panties? Ridiculous.

“And for you,” you say, throwing packs of socks towards Eddie and Steve. “For the cold nights, I know the most important part is to keep your feet hot. So we can just wrap them up in many socks. Oh! And–” You pause, shuffling through your bag with a determined look on your face. You fish out something else, something that makes Steve’s embarrassed face even worse. Boxers.

He was so distracted by your underwear, he didn’t even think of getting some for himself and for Eddie.

The metalhead grabs them, nodding. “Cool.”

Steve scratches the back of his neck as he finally sets the basket down on the floor. Taking a seat on the bench, he grabs them from your hands and gives you an awkward smile, not keeping eye contact for long as he looks down at the size. You even got the right one.

And as if Eddie can read his mind – “how’d you know the size?”

“My lazy brother would ask me to get some for him whenever I went shopping, you’re about his size. Steve’s a bit bigger,” you shrug, replying so nonchalantly before you get back to your clothes as you begin to fold them.

Nancy and Eddie share a look, holding back their laughter when Steve’s flustered face gets even worse.

“I bet he is,” Eddie cackles, earning a punch to his shoulder. “Ow! Dude! Take that as a compliment–”

“Munson, I swear to god,” Steve glares at him.

Nancy shakes her head at them, snorting quietly. To her surprise, you pay them no mind.

Eddie rubs his shoulder, still laughing. His eyes widen when he looks down into the basket, a surprised gasp falling from his lips, “are these Garfield socks!? Oh, I love you so much, Harrington!” He says dramatically which makes you giggle loudly.

Steve’s cheeks burn even hotter and he gets so incredibly flustered when you look up at him with lightened up eyes and a grin stretched widely. He tries not to stare but he can’t help it, not when your eyes shine like this and you look up at him so… happily.

He can’t help but hate that feeling that rises up inside of him. He refuses to admit that it is there.

Maybe he would feel better if someone told him that you would be in the same exact state only a few days later.

Weeks have gone by since you left Hawkins and by now you have gotten into a routine. From the start, you quickly realized that Eddie and Nancy are somewhat inseparable and usually stick together – whether it’s perimeter checks, night watch or scavenging for food. It’s always Eddie and Nancy.

You switch up sometimes and either you or Steve replaces one of them but usually it’s those two together. They’re simply inseparable. That’s how you imagine Steve used to be with Robin.

At first you suspected that there was more between Eddie and Nancy. That they were in a secret relationship or that they were just friends with benefits but you quickly came to realize that those two could never see each other that way. They are best friends, it’s clear as day. Their banter is sibling-like, just like Nancy’s and Steve’s. – You never bothered to ask how those two met or how their friendship blossomed. You know that they have known each other far longer than they have known Eddie but you never tried to find out what made them become friends.

They don’t seem to have much in common and Steve behaves more like a big brother around her than a friend. A grumpy older brother.

You look over your shoulder, glancing at the RV. The golden light in the living room shines through the tiny window. You wonder if Steve is still napping. It’s yours and his turn to do night watch.

You look back into the fire you have started, tugging your jacket tighter around you, you rub your palms together, trying to catch more warmth.

The wood crackles before you, the wind blows softly against you. It’s still warm for fall. You have lost track of time but if you had to guess, you would say it’s october. The leaves are red and orange and the air still smells of fall.

You squint your eyes when you notice the two figures in the distance. You don’t reach for your machete or your gun, recognizing your friends instantly. They both carry gallons of water from the stream down the hill.

You push yourself up from the camping chair and make your way towards the RV to wake up Steve. You walk up the stairs and open the door, making your way inside and closing it softly behind you, not wanting to startle him.

You furrow your eyebrows when you don’t hear him snoring or moving around the RV.

“Steve–”

A loud click echoes through the silent space and before you can even blink or move, the door to the bathroom opens and Steve walks out. Almost naked. Your eyes meet his and you see how wide they get when he sees you. His towel isn’t even around his waist, he barely manages to cover himself, quickly placing it in front of his crotch.

You freeze.

You should move. You should apologize. You should hold your hand up before your eyes and turn around again, leave the RV and pretend like nothing happened but you can’t. You are frozen in place, unable to move, unable to look away. In fact, you can’t stop looking. You can’t stop staring at him or at his wet skin. At the water dripping down his face and his hairy chest. At the flush in his cheeks from either the hot water or from running into you dressed in… nothing. His hair looks even longer when wet, darker too. His eyes are looking into yours intensely.

You swallow harshly.

Unable to keep your eyes from taking him in fully, from letting them run up and down his body. His arms are strong, his muscles aren’t huge but defined. There’s thick veins coursing through his skin, through his strong hands.

Something in you stirs. Something in your belly heats up and starts to burn.

He is handsome.

You knew that much already but you haven’t looked at him in this light yet. He has a pretty face and pretty eyes. His smile is contagious. His hair is gorgeous. He is tall and his shoulders are broad. He is a handsome man, obviously.

But he is also hot.

Steve Harrington is hot.

Maybe even the most attractive man you have ever set your eyes on, the longer you look at him now. Your body certainly never reacted this way before. You have never gotten weak in the knees and you have never stopped breathing over a man. Your belly never burned and your mouth never watered either.

This is not good.

This is so not good.

You can feel your cheeks burning and your heart pounding and you can’t seem to snap yourself out of it.

You don’t even notice how he is looking at you.

It was embarrassment that flashed in his features first before he noticed your reaction.

You are flustered. You are blushing. You are checking him out. He can see the way your wide eyes take him in. He can see how your throat bobs when you swallow.

Something in his chest stirs and his lips curl into a smirk. He can’t help but feel flattered but also smug. He forgot what it’s like to be looked at like this.

He fastens the towel around his waist, raising his chin up a bit as he gazes down at you. He clears his throat, pulling you out of your stupor.

“Like what you see, sunshine?”

You blink a few times before your eyes meet his face again and you notice the smugness in his features as he caught you eyeing him like you’re some animal, hungry over something you never tried before.

You want the ground to swallow you whole. You can tell that he is amused.

Your cheeks feel like they have been touched by fire. Shame fills you and panic rises up inside of you. Your eyes widen and you quickly take a few steps back.

“I didn’t know you were taking a shower!” Your high pitched voice bounces off the walls in the RV. “I’m sorry!” You quickly turn around, not realizing how close you were to the door until you walk face first into it, your forehead hitting it harshly.

As though you weren’t embarrassed already.

“Oh my fucking god! Are you okay!?” Steve asks behind you, already taking a step forward.

You scrunch your eyes shut, ignoring the sting in your head. You quickly open the door and make your way outside.

“Yep! Yeah, I’m great!” You say loudly before you rush out and shut the door behind you loudly. Startling both Nancy and Eddie who just put the gallons of water down by the steps.

Worry flashes in her features when she notices you rubbing your forehead while Eddie raises his eyebrows at you, squinting his eyes as he takes in the look on your face.

“You okay, sweets?”

“Mhmm,” you nod your head quickly, avoiding their eyes. “I’m okay, yeah. I’m fine.” You mumble as you make your way back over to your camping chair. Picking up your water bottle, you open it and raise it up to your lips.

Nancy matches the confused look on Eddie’s face. She turns her head to look at him, raising her eyebrows at him when he looks between you and the door to the RV.

Realization crosses Eddie’s face when Steve comes out a minute later. His hair wet, a flush to his cheeks, plaid shirt unbuttoned at the top, sweatpants and the smell of body wash fills the air.

Oh.

You have seen something you weren’t supposed to see.

It isn’t hard to figure that out when he takes another look at you before he detects the smugness in Steve’s eyes.

And even if he didn’t notice then, he certainly would have noticed all the days after.

Not only do you avoid Steve’s eyes whenever you can, you are also clumsier. Way clumsier. Whenever you turn to look at Steve, you falter in your step and Eddie notices. Noticing you are in a very weird state around Steve, which Eddie kind of figures why by now, he takes the opportunity to patrol with Nancy while you and Steve do chores in the RV. Washing clothes, preparing foods, getting lumber, getting water, trying to spare you from spending time with Steve alone in the dark while walking.

Gladly, as the days pass, Eddie can see you becoming calmer, and it seems that your initial shock is gone, but you are still clumsy.

You are startled when Eddie comes up from behind you as you are cleaning your boots behind the RV. He clears his throat as he leans against it, facing you, shoulder against the cold metal and his hands in his pockets. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he suddenly approached you.

“What is it?”

“Sweetheart… Did you see Steve’s dick?” You feel the earth swallow you whole as you stumble backwards and the boots drop from your hands. Your entire body heats up, sweat appearing on your fingertips as you quickly shake your head, almost breaking your neck.

“N-No! Why– Why would you think that!?” Eddie chuckles at you, shaking his head.

“You are fucking obvious. You are literally tripping over everything, princess. You can’t look the man in the eye. You saw something you shouldn’t have seen.” And your heart is beating out of your chest as you swallow harshly, looking down at the floor as your cheeks remain heated up.

“I– I didn’t mean to… He was only covered in a towel and I– I thought he was sleeping! I was only going to wake him up and–” You cover your face with your hands in shame. “I’m so fucking stupid! I should have, I don’t know, made some noise, or knocked or–”

“Okay, calm down. So you didn’t see his dick.”

“No–”

“Then what’s the problem?” You uncovered your face, and rationally, there shouldn’t be any problems. There really shouldn’t. He was just a man… a very… handsome, hot, and attractive man.

“I– I stared a little too much because of the shock and… I feel like I invaded his privacy way too much…” You kind of lied. You are embarrassed to your core because you were caught red handed, staring without any restraint, checking him out completely and he even made fun of you for that.

Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Princess, I bet it’s not the first male body you’ve seen. If anything, Steve probably felt flattered, and he doesn’t seem bothered by it. You’re worrying too much.”

You take a sharp breath at Eddie’s words but somehow manage to calm yourself down a little bit more… way more. Eddie knows Steve, more than you do, and if Eddie tells you this, it’s because it’s truly what Steve is feeling. You give Eddie a small nod and he smiles at you, his fingers pinching your cheek, making you wince as you pull away.

“What was that for!?”

“For being an idiot. It’s four people in one single RV. We will run into each other either naked, jerking off, or changing clothes. We don’t have individual bedrooms or separated bathrooms.” And that makes a lot of sense, making you nod again, a small smile appearing on your cheeks.

“Yeah… you’re right.” He then smirks, looking out at the horizon where some buildings are spotted.

“Yep. So prepare yourself, cause it’s yours and Stevie’s turn to go scavenging.”

You found a neighbourhood that looked quite untouched compared to ones you have been in, in the past few weeks. You broke into old homes, trying to find canned food and some snacks, even if stale. But you had no luck, all you found were empty shelves and dusty storage rooms.

This one looks quite promising.

The windows are intact, no shattered glass is visible. The doors are closed as well. No monsters, people or infected are around. At first sight at least.

Eddie looks back at you from his spot in the passenger seat, winking at you as he is chewing on some peanuts.

“Good luck.”

You hold onto the strap on your backpack, digging your nail into the material. You pick up your machete and take a deep breath.

Steve looks down at you. With his backpack on, a rifle slung over his shoulder and a crowbar in his hand, he is holding onto the doorknob, waiting on you.

“Ready?” His kind eyes meet yours.

You nod, humming softly.

“Don’t come back with expired chicken noodle soup, please.” Nancy says, earning a glare from the metalhead beside her.

“We’ll try,” Steve chuckles as he gives her one last nod before he opens the door. “Let’s do this.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, following him out.

He closes the door again once you are out. You look around you, keeping a tight grip on your machete just in case.

It is quiet between you both, you don’t make much conversation as you make your way through the abandoned neighborhood. You are both too busy looking out for any sign of life or death.

You don’t notice the way Steve looks at you, the way he glances at you every once in a while. He isn’t blind or stupid, he noticed that shift in your behaviour after the incident in the RV. He couldn’t help but think that it’s cute how you suddenly turned into a klutz – all because of some naked skin.

“Let’s check this one out,” you point out to the blue house with the huge front porch.

“Lead the way,” Steve nods, flipping the crowbar in his hand.

You and Steve continue to walk and work in silence. As you go into the first house, you cover each others’ backs as you clear the building first before you begin to scavenge. You split up once you deem it safe. Though you aren’t so lucky there, nor in the second or the third. All you find are some canned peaches and two cans of corn. One bottle of painkillers and an old first aid kit.

You make your way through the neighborhood, going through one house after the other. But it isn’t until you make it to the last one, to the huge house right by the forest, that you get somewhat lucky.

Just like in the ones before, you clear the building first. Covering Steve’s back as he walks ahead of you with the rifle in his hands, aimed at anything that could come running out of any room.

Your steps are quiet on the floorboards, barely audible. You learned how to be resilient and quiet in this world, tiptoeing through it to save your life, to prevent unwanted attention.

There is something eerie about this place. You can’t figure out what it is but there is something. The silence is nearly deafening. The energy is off. You can feel something in your chest but you can not tell what it is.

When you get to the last room and Steve opens the door with his rifle, he takes a look around before he finally allows himself to breathe again. He turns around to face you, nodding as he swallows.

“It’s clear.” He mumbles, slinging the strap of his rifle over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna check out the kitchen.” You whisper, looking down.

He nods at you, trying to make eye contact, something you haven’t been so fond of lately. “Alright, yeah. I’m gonna check out the bathroom, see if there’s any medicine around.”

You take one last look at him before you part ways. You make your way downstairs, quickly. Determined to find some food and get out of here before it gets dark – you need to set up camp before that. You step into the kitchen and take a deep breath.

You try to ignore that heavy feeling that is cursing through you the longer you are in here.

You open the cabinets and find a pleasant surprise. Peanut Butter. Canned vegetables and fruit. Cans of meat and tuna. You want to squeal but you restrain yourself.

Dropping your backpack onto the counter, you start throwing the cans in, putting in as many as possible. You go through each and every cabinet, filling up your bag in the process until there’s no more space left.

You will be eating well tonight.

A smile appears on your face when you open the door to the storage. Your eyes widen at the amount of snacks on the shelves. You grab one of the empty boxes on the ground and start filling it.

Through all your excitement, you don’t hear the creaking of the floorboard in the hallway or the faint grunting sound coming from the basement.

“We found a gold mine, Steve!” He hears you calling as he makes his way down the stairs. A smile appearing on his face. He opens his mouth to reply, though the words get stuck in his throat and his blood runs cold when his feet hit the ground floor again, just as the door to the basement opens and an infected comes stumbling out, sniffing the air and grunting as though in hunger.

He realizes too late that he didn’t check the basement before.

Steve’s heart is pounding in his chest. He doesn’t move, not yet. His face hardens as anger flashes in his eyes. It wasn’t an infected that killed Robin but he holds just as much hatred for them as he does for the monsters.

He reaches for his crowbar, slowly, not wanting to startle it. The quieter and slower he moves, the less it will pay him attention. They don’t see but they smell and they hear. Just like Steve can smell the decay. He scrunches his nose up and tries to halt his breath. The skin is grey, almost blue. Bloody tear stains on its cheeks. The clothes are ripped and reeking, he can smell it from here.

He takes a step forward, slowly bringing the crowbar up, aiming at the infected’s head, ready to take a swing and let it be over with.

“Eddie is gonna flip out, I found Honeycombs!”

The infected suddenly flips his head into the direction of the kitchen, startled and lured in by the sound of your voice. Steve’s heart falls to his stomach when he hears several footsteps running up the stairs of the basement. More infected. More sick ones ready to feast on you.

Fear grips at him so strongly that his heart nearly beats out of his chest as he makes a run for the kitchen, knowing that the attention is on him now too. He doesn’t care. All he cares about is grabbing you and getting the hell out of here.

But there is no time and he knows it.

You are standing with your back to him, one foot inside the storage room and you turn around startled when you hear his fast and loud footsteps. Your eyebrows furrow and you open your mouth again to question him but he doesn’t allow you to. Steve takes the final step towards you and cups the back of your head, pressing his other hand to your mouth as he signals with his eyes to keep quiet.

Only then do you register the other footsteps and your eyes widen.

He jumps into action once more, pushing you further into the way too small storage and stepping inside with you, not wasting a single second to shut the door and lock you both inside, just in time before all the infected come tumbling into the room in search for the two of you, in search for fresh meat.

He maneuvers you around until your back is pressed against his chest, until your whole body is pressed against his front. His hand is still over your mouth, his arm now fully wrapped around you as he holds you against him. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, you can feel his hand shaking against your skin.

Your own heart is racing, your knees threaten to buckle and if it wasn’t for him holding you, you are sure that they would.

Fear rushed through you when you listened to the grunts and the screeches out in the kitchen. You didn’t hear them before, you didn’t hear them creeping up on you.

A cold shudder ran down your spine when you realized what could have happened if it wasn’t for him.

A shaky breath falls from your lips as you raise your arm up and you wrap your hand around his wrist, needing to hold onto something. In turn, he holds you tighter against him, pressing himself further into you, allowing you to feel his body heat, the warmth he always radiates.

“Shh,” he whispers into your ear as though to reassure you, thinking that you are scared.

You aren’t scared. You never are.

You feel startled.

You close your eyes for a moment and he removes his hand after a few seconds, allowing you to take proper breaths. He still keeps his arm around you and he tries to move back but there isn't much space in this tiny room.

You listen to the infected outside, surprised they haven’t found their way to this door yet. You are in deep shit and you know that it will take a while until you will get the chance to sneak out, unless you decide to fight your way out but you know that there are too many. It’s too risky. Too dangerous.

And you hope, you really hope that Nancy and Eddie won’t come looking for you and stumble right into this mess you two have gotten yourselves into.

You take another deep breath and you lean your head back into his chest as you keep your hand around his wrist, your fingers touching his skin. Through the adrenaline and the anxiety creeping up on you, you don’t even feel his breath on your neck or register the palm that has settled on your stomach.

You are too focused on the sounds outside this room. On the footsteps. On the groans. On the hungry monsters. You don’t notice how there is barely any air left between your bodies. How your body is pressed against his fully. How his chest is on your back. How his chin is resting on the top of your head. His arms fully wrapped around you. Him. His crotch against your butt. His bulge.

If only you snapped out of it and looked back.

Steve’s jaw is clenched. His heart is pounding for different reasons now. His breathing is heavy and his skin is burning, worse and worse the further you press yourself against him, the more he feels you on him.

It feels good. It feels nice. And he can’t help but curse at himself for feeling this in such a moment.

He blames it on the lack of affection he felt in the past few years. It isn’t because of you.

No, absolutely not.

Your scent is sweet, soft, gentle. The touch of your hand is soft. You are curling into him, showing him that you feel comfortable with him, that you feel safe with him. He would be lying if he said that it didn’t stir something within him.

You don’t know how many minutes pass of you standing stuck in this tiny room, listening to the groans and waiting for the right moment to make your escape but when the silence in the kitchen greets you again and their footsteps disappear further into the house. You tilt your head back and look into his eyes. You silently agree to make a run for it, to try your best to sneak out.

You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the fight you know will happen. There is no sneaking out and getting away so easily, ever.

You lean down to pick up the machete you placed against the wall earlier and turn around to look at him once more and Steve gives you an encouraging nod.

You turn back to the door again as his hands slip from your body. You close your eyes for a moment and take another deep breath before you wrap your hand around the cold doorknob. You twist it and push it open slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible.

You step out, tiptoeing out of the room. You ignore the pounding in your chest as you look around the empty kitchen, keeping a tight grip on the red handle of your machete.

Steve steps out right after, covering you instantly as you bend down to pick up your heavy backpack.

He glances at you, brown eyes filled with anxiety when the cans clatter in your bag.

You shrug at him. You won’t leave this here. You tilt your head into the direction of the backdoor in the kitchen, the one that leads out into the garden.

Steve nods at you, motioning for you to go first.

You twist the machete in your hand, taking one last look around before you turn around and creep over to the glass door. You unlock it as quietly as you can, squinting your eyes and cursing inwardly when the door creaks as you open it.

“Come on,” you whisper as you look over your shoulder at him, glancing into the hallway to make sure that nothing heard you yet.

“Go,” Steve whispers as he places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the house, quickly following and shutting the door quietly. Only as he breathes in the fresh air does he notice just how strong his heart is pounding against his ribcage, how shivers run across his whole body.

While he needs a moment to recover, you are already making your way down the porch, securing the area before you look back at him.

“Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, tilting your head at him.

His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, wondering how you are so… calm.

“Yeah,” he murmurs under his breath. He tries to control the shakiness in his hands, holding the cold metal of the crowbar tightly as he makes his way down the stairs. His boots hit the grass and he steps up beside you. He takes another look at the haunted house before he turns his back to it and follows you away from it and closer back to the road where the RV is parked.

You spot Eddie leaning against it with a cigarette between his lips as he swings his axe back and forth while Nancy kneels down beside him, looking up into the sky.

“I left the box in the kitchen,” you frown, sighing loudly. “Eddie’s Honey Combs!”

“I’m sure he’ll live–”

A loud crash echoes through the neighborhood, startling you both. You turn around just in time to see an infected jumping through the now broken window, screeching loudly as it runs straight towards you and Steve.

Steve’s eyes widen and he presses his hand on your chest, pushing you away before he swings his crowbar at the infected. It hits the ground from the impact, grunting loudly, though it doesn’t take long until it jumps back into action, ready to pounce on him.

Your heart skips from the adrenaline that curses through your veins. You throw your backpack on the ground and grab your machete with both hands as more infected come tumbling out of the broken window.

Ready to make you and your friends their dinner.

You don’t have the time to count how many there are but the groans and the screeches fill the space around you quickly. You swing your machete at the infected that once was a woman, stabbing through her head with the sharp blade, the body falling limply to the ground.

Eddie curses behind you as he finishes off the male infected with his axe – ‘motherfucker’ falling from his lips several times.

Nancy’s shotgun goes off a few times and you already worry what kind of attention that sound must have attracted, what kind of things the sound has lured in just now, what kind of monsters are on the way here now.

“Steve!” Eddie yells as he watches one of them jumping at him, taking him down and pinning him on the ground. It’s teeth clatter as it tries to take a bite of him.

Steve grits his teeth and clenches his jaw as he tries to fight it off, though its hands are strong, way too strong. He hears the shots going off around him. He hears Eddie’s voice calling out to him. He feels his heart pounding stronger than ever. Everything stops moving for a moment, time slows down and he looks death into its eyes.

The infected, a male, something that used to be a man, maybe a teenager. It’s struggling, fighting for his flesh, trying to lean down further, trying to take a bite out of him, craving his flesh, his blood.

Though he notices something else. There isn’t only death in his eyes, there is something else – something like fear, something like grief, sadness. It looks at him like it’s hungry but it also looks at him like it's begging. Begging to do something, begging to make it all be over.

And suddenly it is.

A clear cut appears in his neck, black blood oozing out as its head tumbles off and the body stops struggling against him, though still twitching. He wastes no time to throw it off him, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath again. It takes him a moment to recover. He brings his hand up to his neck, his throat hurting from the inside as he continues to breathe in the cold air. He raises his head to look at his savior, expecting Eddie or even Nancy but not you. For some reason he didn’t expect you to save his life, let alone like this.

Blood is dripping from the blade of your machete. Your chest is rising up and down heavily, worry flashes in your eyes as you look down at him.

“Are you okay?” You ask, needing to make sure that he is fine.

Steve nods, blinking in surprise. He furrows his eyebrows as he takes a look around, at the dead bodies on the ground, the twitching bodies.

Nancy and Eddie are frozen in place as they both look at you, stunned. Eddie even more so than Nancy when the head you cut off rolls before his feet and he looks down, wide eyed.

“Steve,” you whisper, eyes softening when you notice his heavy breathing. “Are you okay?” You ask again.

He blinks a few times, clearing his throat as he slowly pushes himself up, nodding, wiping the blood of the infected that had fallen on his cheek with the back of his free hand.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” he mumbles, trying to smile at you. He ignores the weird feeling in his chest when it dawns on him that you have saved him.

You have saved him.

You nod, tearing your eyes away from him. You make your way over to Eddie.

“The brain.” You clear your throat as you swing your machete, giving it a snap so that the excess blood leaves the blade. “You can cut off the limbs but the bastards regenerate. Their arms go all… gooey and reassemble. Like watching ground beef have a life of its own and just… dragging itself to other parts.”

Steve and Eddie stare at you like they can’t believe what they have seen and what they hear.

Nancy’s eyes widen, her lips part as she tilts her head at you.

“...Like the mindflayer in 1985…”

You nod. You remember what they told you. You look down, scrunching your nose in disgust as blood seeps through the grass. You remember the first time you killed an infected. You remember it clearly… a kid… You had tried to talk to it. You had tried to sing to it, maybe a lullaby, but nothing worked. You had stabbed it in the heart and it still lived, cut off the arms and it regenerated and you were sobbing as you looked at it, at how many times you had to kill it.

You realized it was the brain you needed to kill when you desperately, in a panic attack, smashed the skull in. You were crying afterwards, but then it was just hatred. Hatred towards these things, these monsters, and now all of that was directed at a person. A person who caused all of this. Someone, something, that was already dead from what your friends told you… but hatred nonetheless… Because it didn’t spare anyone.

“We can bring them peace like this…” You mumble as you stab through the head, causing the body to stop moving – even if decapitated.

While Eddie huffs in surprise, looking up at you pleasantly surprised. Steve’s eyes are still wide. He is not only stunned by your action, he is also surprised by the way you handled your machete.

You are swinging it the same way he swings his bat.

“We have to move. My gun was loud enough.” Nancy speaks once again and you nod, bending down to wipe the blade on the grass, trying to get most of the blood off. They all knew the blood doesn’t infect or give you any sickness. It’s the venom. The venom in their teeth.

“... Do you guys think we can eat it?” Eddie suddenly asks, making everyone turn their heads completely stunned to look at him. When nobody replies, he looks up to all of you, shrugging with a frown. “What!? It’s an honest question!”

“Are you out of your mind, Eddie?” Steve asks, still trying to wrap his head around everything that happened.

“Look, it’s fresh, and it’s–”

“Human!” You yell as you all start making your way to the RV. Eddie scoffs at you all as he stands next to the door, waiting for everyone to get it.

“Nuh uh! Their bodies are all purple and some have those petal thingies the demogorgons have, pretty sure they’re not human anymore.” Eddie smirks at his train of thought and all he gets its a punch to the gut. A straight ass punch. Light, but still enough to make him bend over slightly. “Wheeler, what the actual flying fuck–”

“Stop saying nonsense.” She says as she finally steps in the truck, you follow, snickering under your breath but you almost fall over when the weight of your backpack throws you back down and onto Steve’s chest. You heard an ‘oof’ leave his lips as his arms grabbed you.

“You okay there?” And memories flushed to you. At the time, you hadn’t noticed it. At the time, your mind was occupied by the sounds of the infected outside. Now you remember it all. His body against yours, his chest against your back, his hands on your mouth, on your stomach, pressing you against him as if his life depended on it. Then, his hips and his–

You felt your entire body flush over again, and even if you didn’t have his chest against your back right now thanks to your backpack, this closeness was new. You moved away from him and gave him a nod, trying to avoid looking straight at him.

“Yeah– Yeah, I’m fine–” Steve hummed and grabbed the straps of your backpack, and you gulped as you helped him take it off. Another grunt came out of his lips as he lifted it up a few times.

“What the hell are you carrying in here, Sunshine? A fucking machine gun?” His words caused you to look at him, a giggle escaping your lips as you shook your head.

“Better. Food! Lots of it!” Eddie’s voice chimed in, tilting his head to the side.

“See, if we tried to have some of that meat, we wouldn’t have to eat canned food–”

“Munson, catch.” And Steve threw the backpack towards Eddie, who was smiling with his dimples showing, his hands grabbing onto it, only for him to be slammed against the side of the RV with a thud. The weight of the backpack threw him back at the impulse, a surprised yelp escaping his lips.

You started laughing with Steve as you both stared at Eddie who grunted when keeping the backpack up in his hands.

“You are both very mean… I was joking! It’s called ‘clearing the tension’.” He says as if matter of factly and he heads back into the van, groaning under his breath as he struggles to carry the backpack in. Steve stands next to the door, a soft smile on his lips as he nods at you and then at the RV.

“Ladies first.”

And that shouldn’t have made your stomach turn the way it did. This was something common for men to do but– This was the first time it happened with Steve. Or at least, that he said that. Making it known he is letting you go first. Maybe he did it before but never spoke out loud of it, so you never noticed it… Now you do.

You cleared your throat and nodded, shooting him another small smile as you walked up inside the RV. His eyes followed you, his image of you having changed completely as he turns to look at the bodies you have killed, the decapitated smashed head that was about to bite him, to eat him, to turn him.

Just when he thought he got to know you, or figure you out completely, you come up with something new. You startle him each time, but nothing stunned him as much as this one thing did. Your months of survival showed, letting him remember how you traveled alone for most of the time, and how you had to save yourself many times.

You were new. Curiosity invaded him, something he should avoid. Questions he wants to ask, but the farthest he can be of knowing about you, every single detail, the better it will be. But the fucking curiosity, the want and the need to ask you so many things and get to know you entirely, to save him from surprises, like the one that happened just now.

Because these surprises impressed him. You are impressing him. And he doesn’t like that. He looks back to step inside the RV, closing the door behind him, and then seeing how excited Nancy and Eddie look as you beam, taking the cans out of your bag, the snacks, the beverages. You looked so proud as they praised you for finding a ‘jackpot’ and Steve couldn’t help but smile.

You are an enigma… and he hates that he wants to figure you out.

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #stranger things angst #grumpy x sunshine

507 notes · View notes